Alpha Moon (4 page)

“Pray tell me, sir,” said a seductive voice, “what does Colchester have to offer that London does not?”

Ulric, startled, peeked around the edge of the marble statue, catching sight of Daciana. “I am afraid, milady, that I have never been to London, so I cannot rightfully compare the two.”

Daciana frowned. “Such a shame.” She proceeded to take slow, steady strides away from Ulric and the conversation.

Ulric began ardent steps and caught up to her. “I would say, to the best of my knowledge, that London is a larger town, and therefore the amenities offered are more universal there rather than here.” Seeing that she was not convinced, Ulric continued. “Mayhap ye will enjoy the country life more so than the city. We have wonderful people, beautiful land, and, in the summertime, I believe the sun shines brighter here than anywhere else in the world; it favors us.”

Daciana stopped walking and faced Ulric. “Personally, I do not believe Colchester to be so special from any other town on this earth. ’Tis a dried up city, with peasants who can hardly pay taxes and feed their families.”

“I have offended ye,” Ulric said. “That was not my intention. Forgive me.”

Daciana studied him closely. “It takes great effort for a man to admit when he is wrong. I am afraid, however, that I shall not be around much longer to see this wonderful fantasy thou have dreamt.”

“’Tis not a dream, milady. ’Tis as real as us, flesh and blood.” Flustered by her previous comment, Ulric pressed on. “Ye shall not be around until summertime? Why, might I ask?”

Daciana’s chin rose. Ulric could not help but notice the slight flush the bitter air forced onto her cheeks. “’Tis a secret, one which I have kept near and dear to my heart.” She glanced his way. “I am afraid I cannot tell thee, as I do not know whether my secret can be kept well hidden behind thy lips.”

Ulric concealed his grin. “I am trustworthy, milady.”

She gave him a sidelong look. “Thou art? Most men cannot be trusted.”

“Aye, but perhaps I am not most men.” He watched her take this in, watched her rose-tinted lips thin and purse themselves together. He admired her dark hair, as dark as the bark of the trees in the forest ahead. And her eyes? He could not be sure, but they seemed radiate a burnt gold.

A though struck him. No, it could not be! She was too beautiful, too graceful, to even be considered a monster. But he could not mistake the idea—those deep yellow eyes he had seen before, just a week ago. They haunted him through nightmares and unpleasant daydreams. He feared for his safety, and the safety of those he loved most. ’Twould make sense, though, that he had not seen the wolf before . . . until Daciana moved to Colchester.

“Thou art not well.” Daciana stated, sucking Ulric out of his dreadful accusations.

“I fear the wintry air has invaded my senses and left me troubled. Forgive me, milady, but I must retire for the night.” He bowed once, avoiding eye contact, and left in a daze.

Before he could reach the entryway, Daciana called behind him, “I hope to see thee again, and soon!”

Ulric searched for Alaric. He was in a corner surrounded by fellow gents and a few ladies, and, surprisingly, did not seem all that intoxicated. Alaric met Ulric’s eye and wiggled his way free from the small crowd gathered around him.

“What is it, brother? Ye look as if ye have seen a ghost.” Alaric chuckled at his own joke, but Ulric did not join in with his own mirth. Alaric stopped laughing and became serious. “What is it, then?”

“Come with me. I have much to tell.” Ulric ushered Alaric outside, where they shivered under winter’s mantle. “Ye may believe I have gone mad, but I need ye to believe in me, brother. That is all I ask.”

Concerned for Ulric’s mental stability, Alaric politely nodded, yet wondered what could muddle him so. The list of possibilities was endless, and Alaric suppressed the urge to presume. He would be better off listening to what Ulric had to say.

When they arrived at their cottage, Frederic was fast asleep in his room. Alaric stoked the embers in the dying fire and added new logs. Ulric anxiously paced the room, working out a plan to explain to his brother he felt possessed by the eyes of a giant wolf, they consumed his every waking hour, and that he might never forget the horror he witnessed a week ago. Yet no townsfolk had reported, or spoke of, a large wolf attacking any persons or livestock. It seemed the wolf was only after one thing: Ulric.

“Out with it, then,” said Alaric, as he turned the cinders into a crackling blaze of warmth.

Ulric began his version of witnessing the wolf only a week prior at the edge of the forest, how it came directly at him and he feared for his life, and the lives of Alaric and their father. He mentioned that he had not seen the wolf since, and had not heard of any persons reporting an attack. Then, with some hesitation, he told Alaric of Daciana, of her eyes that burned as brightly as the flames in the hearth now, and how they closely resembled the wolf. ’Twas too eerie to dismiss.

Ulric stopped pacing long enough to hear his brother’s words. “What say ye?”

Alaric stared at the floor, lost in his own thoughts, and stroked his chin. “I would say ’tis just a coincidence, brother. Surely ye do not believe Daciana is capable of turning into a wolf. This is clearly a thing of myth and legend, passed on from generation to generation to scare young children from creeping into the woods at nightfall. ’Tis a clear tactic to keep them tucked safely in their beds. That is all and naught more.”

“Ye think I am fictionalizing my tale?” asked Ulric, who grew angrier by the minute. Come what may, he knew Alaric would not believe his account.

“Nay,” Alaric said. “I am merely suggesting that ye were the only person the wolf saw that night, so, naturally, it came after ye. Mayhap the creature is rabid. If true, we should gather a search party and clear the woods.”

Ulric bit out, “’Tis the last time I speak of this wolf. Now, if ye will excuse me, my mind and body are exhausted.” Without another word, or a goodnight to his brother, Ulric retired to his bedroom.

Each time he drifted to sleep, Ulric was haunted by Daciana’s eyes shining brightly in the moonlight, and just when he pushed aside images of her, the eyes reappeared on the wolf. Almost as if they merged perfectly into one.

Chapter Six

A
laric tipped back the last of his ale and stared at the usual patrons at Murdock’s. Most were still recovering from the merriment of last night’s events, and he was one of them. He should have never drunk so much wine; he knew the repercussions of doing so. Besides, syrupy drinks never rested on his stomach.

After the previous evening’s conversation with his brother, Alaric did not sleep well. His dreams consisted of wolves and the beautiful but mysterious Daciana. Why had her family come to Colchester, of all places? He could not quite place what distressed his conscience, but it seemed the Lowell family was hiding something. He aimed to unearth their secrets, and the only way to do that was to become closer to Daciana. He did not know what outcome this would have on his brother, but in a town where everybody knew each other, it seemed like the correct approach.

Or mayhap he was over thinking.

Led astray by his thoughts, Alaric was surprised to see Ulric sit down across from him at the table. He had not noticed his entrance.

“What brings ye here, brother?” Alaric asked.

“I may have been a bit melodramatic last evening, and I wanted to apologize if my actions offended ye.”

Alaric waved him off. “No need. Ye obviously had too many spirits at the ball and they toyed with thy head. Sip ale with me and we shall forget what happened.” Alaric signaled for a barmaid to bring two more tankards.

“I know ye think me mad, but I plan on pursuing Daciana,” said Ulric.

Alaric coughed to prevent laughter. “So, ye have taken my words to heart and do not think her a vile monster?”

Ulric hesitated, thinking how best to pursue the subject. “I think there is more to her than what we see, and I intend to find out what that is.”

“Seems we can agree on something, then,” Alaric said. When Ulric’s features twisted into uncertainty, Alaric added, “I planned on doing the same. Only moments before thy arrival, I thought to myself, ‘Find out what that family is hiding.’”

“Yet ye do not believe they could partake in dark territory, one that may include witchcraft?”

One of the barmaids brought Alaric and Ulric their ale at the most opportune moment. Alaric saw the break in conversation as reason to drink more. He was already feeling lightheaded, but not as greatly as he felt earlier.

Ulric studied his brother without taking a swill. Was this truly his plan, or was he hiding something more? Mayhap he favored Daciana and sought this as an opening to become acquainted with her. Ulric hated to admit his brother was a favorite among the ladies, but Daciana did not seem like the type who was easily won over by flattery and seduction.

“I shall take thy silent tongue as affirmation of thy intent,” Ulric said. “And I will raise my cup to ye. Cheers, brother.”

Cautiously, Alaric raised his, as well. “Cheers.”

When their tankards bumped in a clatter, the two silently swore they would triumph over the heart of the mystifying Daciana.

Chapter Seven

S
till in the competitive spirit, Ulric left Alaric at Murdock’s while he stepped outside, fully intending to allow the harsh wind to rouse his mind. His feet no more landed in the slushy muck than he collided with Daciana. She let out a high-pitched screech, and Ulric caught her before she fell.

“Apologies, milady. I am afraid my head is not quite where it should be at the moment,” Ulric said.

“’Tis all right,” she responded. “But in the future, I suggest keeping thy eyes open and attentive.”

Unsure of what came over him, Ulric pushed Daciana backward. She landed in a puddle of freezing mud, squealing all the while. Ulric could do naught but laugh.

“I am so glad this amuses thee,” she said.

Mayhap ’twas because she pretended to be a much higher class of human than the rest of the community, or mayhap Ulric was feeling alive from the ale, but either way, he could not contain his noisy laughter.

Catching his breath, he leaned forward and singsonged, “Get used to it, milady, for we are naught but peasants who can hardly pay taxes and feed our families. What else would ye expect from farmers who swim in sludge all day? I daresay we must be an entirely different breed of people altogether, only pigeonholed as commoners by the likes of rich aristocrats from, say, London. Is this not what ye expected?”

Daciana spat at him. “How dare thou ruin my reputation and embarrass me in front of half the town! Thou did this on purpose!” Her cheeks flushed a deep pink—the same shade as her lips—and, for a moment, all Ulric could think about was kissing them. Daciana’s eyes grew wider the longer Ulric stared, and his blatantly obvious attempt to hide his discretion was spoiled by the crowd now gathered around them. His personage as a gentleman would, perhaps, take a thrashing.

Dutifully, he shook off his childish demeanor and extended a hand to Daciana. Though reluctant at first, she eventually had no choice but to accept. He jerked her so hard she slammed against his chest, releasing a barely-audible squeak of surprise. Holding her in that position for a moment longer, Ulric finally thought it best to release her, before they could cause an even bigger scene than the one which just played out before prying eyes.

“I shall walk ye home,” Ulric said, even though Daciana was fighting her way out of his grip. He reined her in, practically dragging her down the street for all those watching to observe.

“I detest thee,” she said through gritted teeth once they were out of sight of the locals. “How can thou be so cruel?” Fresh tears sprang from her eyes and fell down her cheeks.

Momentarily, Ulric felt bad for the pain he caused her, but that instant was short-lived as he had begun to consider what a bloody brat she was. “And I feel no remorse, my dear. Somebody needed to put ye in thy rightful place. ’Twas thy luck I am in good spirits today.”

“Ugh! Thou art the most hopeless, loathsome, and dishonorable man I have ever laid eyes upon. I hope there is a certain level of Hell for thee.” She meant to kick off in a sprint, but instead, she tripped on the hem of her dress and fell face-first onto the mucky lane. Embarrassed yet again, Daciana did not move. She screamed and kicked and beat the ground with her fists, while hot tears poured from her eyes.

Ulric did pity her this time. “Come, let me help ye up.”

“Do not touch me, vile creature! I never want to see thee again.” She carefully lifted herself and brushed off her skirt.

Ulric bit his lip in frustration. He had only meant to show how selfish she sounded, not wound her pride. So he stepped forward, which, in turn, forced Daciana to take a step backward.

“I mean no harm to ye,” he said. “I promised to take ye home, and I shall hold true to my word.”

The hurt in Daciana’s eyes was contagious; Ulric felt the stab of pain through his heart and stomach, just as he imagined she did. Explaining this feeling would be pointless, for she already knew. Explaining why he treated her so would also be a lost cause, for his reason would fall on deaf ears. Daciana would hate him now; that much was certain.