Page 1 of Lunar Desires
Chapter 1
RILEY
The ticket inspector slipped in the bloodied mud, letting out a string of curses as his arse smacked the floor.
Oof. I felt that.
“Are you okay?” I asked, hurrying to help.
The poor guy had been the first person we’d seen since Jonathan Aurora exploded in the carriage. My evil uncle, the previous Moon before I took over. A man hellbent on killing me, on returning to his sacred position, and totally tainted by shadow magic mixed with the faint trace of celestial magic.
Oh, and a total arsehole who was supposed to be dead. I’d killed him, my insides constantly twinging with guilt. Regardless of the kill-or-be-killed situation, becoming this weapon, this man of violence, would take some getting used to.
Damn. With each passing hour, my karaoke-loving librarian days seemed so far away. I was heir to a great magic, part of a shamed dynasty, and destined to destroy an impending apocalyptic threat.
Talk about wrestling with serious change.
God, what was this great threat going to be? There would be many of them along this journey, but only one true apocalypse would rise above the parapet to make my bladder tighten. And it was the job of me and my brothers to fight it.
What a shame there were only two of us around at the moment. Preston—The Star—was currently missing.
The ticket inspector fumed over the state of the carriage, the mud and blood still wet and gross. “What is that smell?”
I wrinkled my nose, doing my best to ignore the stink of rotten flowers suffocating the train carriage. Even with a window open, the stench wouldn’t piss off.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” I responded, offering him my hand.
Damn Uncle Jonathon. Along with a bazillion other questions, what the hell was he up to? How did he crawl out of his grave on the Aurora Mansion grounds and get inside this train?
Oh, God. Had he cloned himself? He used shadow magic now, so there could be a cloning spell in their grimoires—texts unreadable to us witches of the non-shadow variety.
Ugh.
The ticket inspector looked me up and down as he got onto his knees, ignoring my proffered hand.
Oh, yeah. My jumper hung open at the chest, ruined by…by my dad’s claw attack before this drama.
Dad…
My Dad is a…shade.
By Hecate, my mind strained against the overload of info.
“What have you done?” the inspector seethed.
Drake stepped past me, crouching down to his level. “There was an incident.”
His rich voice shivered through me, a lovely warmth tingling in the tips of my toes. The scrying witch had the power to disarmme with just a few words, or by looking at me with those dark, soul-piercing eyes.
“An incident?” the furious man in his stained green uniform said, getting to his feet.
Wow. That blend of blood and mud would not be coming out of his clothes quickly.
Drake ran a hand through his chocolate brown hair, shoving the other one into the pocket of his jeans. “A magical incident.”
God, the feelings I’d caught for him, and so damn quickly. My heart found itself in a storm of desire, confusion, and a ton of want.
Oh boy, did I want Drake Parish to be mine. I mean, we’d slept together, but we weren’t an item. Yet. But things were complicated.
