Moon Riders

Chapter 1

The witch stood over the whimpering creature, laughing as her subordinates dressed in black robes looked on. “Do you think this was wise, Madam Rubidoux?” one of the robed women asked in a voice trembling with both fear and shame. “This spell has been banned by the Council for centuries now and for a good reason.” She glanced down at the dark-skinned man with his long black hair wet with sweat.

Her superior kicked the naked man. “Look at him, Georgette,” she said in a commanding tone, “he’s Choctaw and little more than a beast anyhow.” She closed the large, leatherbound grimoire and returned it to the painted wooden box. “My contact in the Statehouse has paid me well to turn these dirty beasts into Loup-Garou and send them across the border into this new Republic of Texas to wreak havoc upon the new citizens there … and send them back here where they belong.”

Georgette stared at her High Priestess with contempt. “We have never used our power to meddle in the politics of those around us, Madam. That too has been banned by the Council.”

Lillianna Rubidoux, High Priestess of the Rubidoux Coven, stared down at the shorter woman who stood as her second in the circle. Then she drew back her arm and delivered a slap that sent the smaller woman flying across the grassy circle lit by candles and lanterns for the ceremony. “How dare you speak to your High Priestess in that tone, Georgette.” She motioned to two of the robed men. “Take Georgette—along with this hairy piece of filth—to the holding cell in the cellar.” She grinned down at Georgette. “Strip her naked and leave her with the beast for three days.” She began to laugh at the horror on the other woman’s face. “And nights. Then shackle them and take them across the river into Texas and release them into the wilds there.”

Georgette got to her knees and grabbed Lilianna’s hand. “I’m sorry, Priestess. I meant no disrespect.”

Lillianna shoved her away. “You meant every word of disrespect, Georgette.” She glanced at the sweating man in the grass. “I would be interested to know if your offspring with this beast claw themselves from your womb as fully formed mewling pups or human-like to suckle at your breasts, Georgette.” The tall, stately witch walked away laughing as two men dragged the sobbing woman and incoherent savage into the island’s massive chateaux.

“I’m sorry, Miss Georgette,” one of them said in a lowered voice, “but the Madam’s word is law here, and we cannot disobey.”

“Quiet, Maurice,” the other hissed, “or someone will hear you, and the Madam will change us along with these other beasts.” He tugged at the incoherent prisoner.

“But Miss Georgette was only saying what all the rest of us have been thinking,” Maurice said with a furrowed brow. “If the Council hears what we’ve been doing here, they will wipe out the Rubidoux and probably sink our island back into Black Bayou, Francois.”

Francois stopped and put a hand to his temple. “I think this will surely happen, Maurice, but not in our lifetime and perhaps not even in the lifetime of our children.”

They resumed their way down the steep, narrow stairs leading down into the cellars. They came to a large door with bars in it and Maurice took a key down from an iron hook. He turned to Georgette. “Will you remove your clothing, Mistress, or must I do it for you?”

With trembling hands, Georgette unbuttoned her blouse and then her skirt. She removed them and folded the garments before handing them to the man beside her who’d averted his eyes. Georgette then removed her camisole and heavy petticoat, leaving her naked before the men. She shivered more from shame and anger than modesty or the dampness of the cellar. Her dark hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders to cover her heaving bosoms.

Maurice opened the cell door, and the faces of two other Choctaw men lifted from their straw pallets on the floor. Someone had secured their legs in shackles attached to the stone wall, and they didn’t bother to move other than to sit up and stare at the beautiful naked woman as she was brought into the cell and shackled between them. They spoke to the Choctaw man when they brought her in, and he talked to them in their language, motioning to Georgette from time to time.

“I told them that they gave you to us for breeding,” he told Georgette in broken English after the guards had gone. He spoke to them again in their language, and the men licked their lips as they glared at her. “It will go badly for you, witch, as one of the ones that did this to us.” He grinned and reached out to twist her breast. “But maybe you witches like it that way.”

Georgette’s terrified screams resonated up the stairwell into the chateau for the rest of the night.