Page 53 of Luna Ascending

He sinks lower in his hospital bed, picking at the cover dejectedly.

“I hoped, maybe... I could help find a way for us to get our animals back” the rough looking shifter seems like he's about to break.

He doesn't deserve me pressing him like this. I know fine well it was fucking Aaron's idea. Except I have one of my own, and it relies on this guy. I cut to the chase.

“I know, Carl. And I need you to do it again – with me this time, not Morganna”

He looks up quickly, a mixture of fear and excitement written across his face.

“Of course Luna! Anything... emm” he hesitates “Alpha Aaron does know, doesn't he?”

I could lie, but he deserves better. He needs to know what he's agreeing to.

“No. And he doesn't need to. I'm no fractured witch like Morganna – I'm not dangerous to you or anyone. The danger here is that it might not work, and I don't want to get anyone's hopes up.”

Truthfully, I'm terrified it doesn't work and the council loose the little faith in me they have. I square my shoulders and force my voice to sound firm “What do you say Carl? I'm asking you, not commanding you. You can say no.” I won't take the choice away from him.

He blinks at me as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind, before saying slowly “No, Luna, I'm honoured you asked me.”

I sneak Carl away in an infirmary wheelchair. Once we're out of sight, between Liz and I, we manage to get him up and walking. We must look like an odd triad, a tiny redhead acting as a crutch, a slender blonde peering around every corner looking guilty as sin, and a giant swarthy man covered in tattoos trying his hardest not to squash his 'crutch'. I giggle to myself and Carl looks at me bemused.

I lead us to a beautiful quiet spot I found in the woods on the estate. It's right next to a little waterfall and full of calm and tranquillity. Liz stalks the perimeter of the clearing, while Carl settles as comfortably as he can on the ground and I sit down next to him.

He's trying hard to look unconcerned but I can feel waves of uneasiness rolling off him. It's understandable – he's been beaten up pretty badly only a few hours ago and here I am asking him to do the same all over again. Except, I'm not Morganna. I can control this.

I gently reassure this hulk of a man, and take his temples in my hands, making him take the sides of my head in return, then we rest our foreheads together. I start meditating, then slowly probe his mind. It's easier than I expected.

I feel a wind pick up around us, but I daren't open my eyes. I'm inside his mind, I somehow am him.

I see a dank concrete floor, covered in dirt and excrement, and smell the fear that's all around. Suddenly a door opens in the corner of the room and a fucking scummy human stomps towards our cell. I pull away briefly, confused by the hatred I feel, before I realise I'm feeling what Carl's feeling – he hates humans with a passion.

The guard unlocks the door and I scramble backwards away from the entrance, crowding with the others towards the back of the cell. Dread forms in the pit of my stomach as the guard picks me out and manhandles me out the cell – it's my turn.

I don't know what's beyond the door in the corner of the room... but I know once you go through you either don't come back or you come back... unnatural, with no animal.

My vision fades, before streaming back very bright, sharp, and painful. This time I'm in a stark clinic room that looks like an operating theatre, with a very bright light pointed at me.

I must in another of Carl's memories, this time it feels far more real – like I'm here instead of Carl. I can't sense him any more. My arms and legs are strapped down and my back is cold against the metal table. I panic a little feeling my head held tightly in place too.

I sense witches, but I can't turn to look. I can hear only snippets of a conversation, my hearing's muffled like I'm underwater.

“Bring the severance stone and prepare the vessel for reception of the shifter's wraith.”

A feeling of nausea washes over me. It's all so clinical. I hear enough to realise what they're about to do to me, to Carl. I have to remind myself over and over that this is a memory. That I'm not in danger. I have to pay attention – even the slightest detail might help.

“Ready the Separator” comes a voice. I strain to see what's happening. Some members of the Coven seem to be on a tour of the facilities, and I'm the fucking freak on show. They're here to see first hand my wolf cut from me.

I can't do this, I can't stay here and watch this, I can't feel this. I try to pull away, to end the memory, but I'm trapped. Fuck, now it feels very very real.

I've missed some of what they're saying in my panic. The 'tour-guide' is answering questions about the Separator. The Separator is a powerful witch, whom they've bound to their cause. Without a Separator the cast won't remain permanent – only the Separator can break and replace the bond between shifter and animal.

They start talking about many 'Separators' in the employ of covens across the country, and it hits me - we're screwed. There must be hundreds of shifters without animals already. Hundreds of shifters bound to the Coven, doing their bidding in the hope of getting their animals back.

A familiar voice interrupts my thoughts – Marc. It's fucking Marciel, what the hell is he doing here?! I flail around, trying to turn my head to see him, but I'm held firm.

“Esteemed guests, please, don't be alarmed by the rumours, the procedure is quite safe, I assure you. It gives us complete control over the shifter – after they are separated they do not get access to their animal unless we grant it. Once they have done the task required, we take their animal back with a few simple words. The procedure in front of you only needs to happen once per shifter”

His smooth voice seems to quell any doubts in the onlookers, reassuring them everything is running smoothly with very few hiccups.

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