Hunger Moon Rising

by Evangeline Anderson

  It looked like they were going to come to blows—right there in my brand new crappy office—the one I’d only been in a week. The one I got at a reduced rent because I promised the landlord I was going to run a quiet, orderly office—so quiet, in fact, that he wouldn’t even know I was there. In just a minute, everybody in the building was going to know I was there—especially if the punches started flying.

  I had to do something, fast.

  Jumping up, I pulled off one of my heels and pounded on my cheap plywood desk with it with a loud, thwak, thwak, thwak!

  “Daniel! Jacob!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Both of you sit down now!”

  That got their attention. Both of them were breathing hard and glaring at each other but finally they sat down in my cheap plastic Wal Mart chairs again.

  “Now listen up,” I said, narrowing my eyes at both of them. “I’ve had about enough of you two. I told you at the beginning of all this that I am not a divorce lawyer. I’m just a humble paralegal who hands out paperwork and helps you fill it out. I do not get paid enough to listen to all your crap. I don’t care why you’re getting a divorce. I don’t care who’s sleeping with who or who gave who herpes! And I most especially don’t care who gets to keep Mr. Goddamn Puppers!”

  “Well!” Daniel sucked in his breath and Jacob looked shocked.

  “That’s right,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can cuss too…but I’d rather not.” I took a deep, calming breath and settled lightly back behind my desk, slipping my shoe back on as I did. “Now why don’t we all try to talk this out rationally? I know you want to end your marriage but there’s no reason to end it badly. Have some dignity—some self respect.”

  “She’s right,” Jacob said stiffly. “I shouldn’t have called you fat.”

  “You didn’t just call me fat. You called me a ‘fat gluten hog,’” Daniel reminded him icily.

  “Daniel…” I put a warning tone in my voice. I’m not a mom but I can do a fair imitation of one when I want to. That’s what being raised by my Aunt Celia with my six rowdy cousins got me.

  “Oh…all right.” Daniel gave his partner a sulky look. “I’m sorry I said anything about the herpes. And your seaweed rolls.”

  “Good, this is good.” I steepled my fingers and regarded both of them. “Now I can tell that both of you really love, uh, Mr. Puppers. So in the interest of getting these papers signed and your divorce underway, why don’t we talk about a visitation schedule?”

  So, we talked…

  It took five hours to iron things out. Five freaking hours, otherwise known as my entire afternoon. Seriously, from noon to five I was busy making sure both my clients got enough quality time with their French Bulldog-labradoodle mix.

  I’m not even a dog person.

  If I had been a lawyer billing by the hour, I would have made so much money in the time it took to straighten things out. However, since I’m just a lowly paralegal, I was only making the fee I charged them to go over the paperwork in the first place.

  I think it worked out to something like less than minimum wage—plus it gave me a pounding headache. When the two of them left, still glaring daggers at each other but with all papers signed and sealed, I collapsed and put my head on my desk, an Ikea special. The scent of plywood and cheap varnish assaulted my nose. I’d almost made enough during my hellish encounter to pay for it.

  Almost.

  I sat up and rubbed my temples. What a freaking mess—and to think I’d been so excited to have my first real clients! They had seemed like such a nice couple over the phone—Danny and Jakie they called themselves. I had been surprised they wanted a divorce at all, they seemed to get along so well.

  So much for that.

  I wished for the hundredth time that I could get some work that didn’t involve divorce. I knew that sometimes dissolving a relationship was necessary—I’d had to dissolve my own to my no-good ex, Phillip, who was real piece of work. But still, I would much rather be putting people together than tearing them apart.

  “Should have been a wedding planner instead,” I muttered to myself. But it would cost way more to get that business off the ground than just striking out on my own as a paralegal. So for now, at least, it looked like I was stuck doing quickie divorces for unhappy couples who wanted to murder each other right in my office.

  With a sigh, I heaved myself to my feet. It wasn’t a very auspicious beginning for my new paralegal firm—which had exactly one employee—me. But at least today was over. I could go back home to my tiny apartment which I now had all to myself since I’d kicked Phillip out two months ago, take an aspirin and a hot bath, and try to relax.

  I trudged out the door and the long flight of stairs that led from the second floor to the first. I could have taken the elevator but it stuck between floors sometimes—a fact I’d found out the hard way my first day there. It was strictly stairs for me from then on.

  I passed my neighbor in the hallway—a skinny twenty-something guy with fish-belly white skin and dirty blond hair twisted into long, scraggly dreadlocks. He had a Rastafarian air about him and always wore one of those multicolored Jamaican berets which looked like it desperately needed a trip through the washing machine.

  “Hey, pretty lady.” He nodded at me genially. “What it do?”

  “Hi.” I gave him a curt nod back. He was supposed to be a barber but none of the customers I ever saw going into his office—which was two doors past mine at the end of the hall—ever looked any different when they left. Well, their hair didn’t anyway. Also, I often caught a waft of suspicious smelling smoke coming from the crack under his door. While I wasn’t a hundred percent sure my neighbor was a drug dealer, I also wasn’t surprised to see that his clientele usually had bloodshot eyes and dazed looks on their faces when they wandered out of his office.

  There was nothing I could do about my suspicions, so I kept them to myself. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and office space was expensive in Tampa. The small eight by ten cell of an office I was renting was pretty much the cheapest in the city. I knew because I’d shopped around a lot before settling on this place and giving my notice to my old law firm of Lauder, Lauder and Associates to strike out on my own.

  At least I’m out of there, anyway, I thought, heading out into the parking lot where my beat up Honda Civic was parked. L.L. and A. had been an awful place to work, especially after my best work buddy, Zoe, ran off with a secret fiancé none of us knew about.

  I frowned when I remembered the mysterious circumstances of her leaving. She’d vanished right out of the building—right out of the employees’ bathroom, in fact. She hadn’t given notice or anything and for a while, everyone thought she’d been kidnapped or abducted or something. Her two best friends, nice girls named Charlotte and Leah, had even insisted on opening a missing person’s case on her and hiring a private detective to find her.

  It still seemed strange to me that Zoe would leave in such an abrupt way without giving notice at work or telling the people she loved most what was happening to her. But she must have had her reasons. I had met her friend Leah again recently, when she was looking for help with her divorce, and she’d assured me that Zoe was fine. According to Leah, she had simply been whisked away to some south sea island where there was no phone signal by her eager fiancé who kept her there for a romantic, extended honeymoon.

  “Huh,” I muttered to myself as I joggled the Civic’s door to get it to open. It was more than halfway broken and stuck almost every time I got in or out of the door but I couldn’t afford to have it fixed right now. “Wish somebody would whisk me away from all this crap!”

  I had no idea that anyone was watching me at the time and even less idea that my half-formed wish would soon become a reality. If I had, I probably would have clamped my lips shut and gone home to hide under the bed, away from any shiny, reflective surfaces.

  But I didn’t have a clue. I started the car and drove away from my crappy little office for the last time, not h
aving any idea what lay in store for me in the very near future.

  Chapter Two

  Lucian

  “She’s perfect,” Drace growled, staring at the tall, (well, tall for an Earth girl anyway) female with creamy light brown skin and large black eyes on the AMI lightscreen.

  I looked at my unintended bond-mate in some surprise. For once the big oaf was displaying some intelligence and taste. For the first time since the wise woman on our home planet of Denaris had told us we needed to find a Pure One to dissolve the accidental psy-bond between us, I agreed with him about something.

  “She is perfect,” I grudgingly agreed. “Did you see how well she handled the dissolution of the bonding between those two males?”

  Drace snorted. “Fuck yeah, I saw it. She really put them in their places.” He nodded approvingly. “I like a strong female.”

  “As do I,” I admitted, surprised to find myself in agreement with him yet again. Through the psy-bond we unwillingly shared, I felt his surprise as well.

  “Do you?” he asked bluntly. “I thought Fangers liked their females subservient.”

  “That’s quite a large word,” I said dryly. “I’m impressed. Though I’d be more impressed if you could refrain from using such derogatory terms for my people.”

  Drace scowled. “Just because I didn’t go to the Queil University and spend four thousand credits an hour on my education doesn’t make me stupid. I’m just not as high and mighty as you, you arrogant bastard. And what would you prefer I called you?”

  “Just because I wasn’t raised in the swamps of Yerbix and actually had a proper education doesn’t make me arrogant,” I countered, my irritation rising. “And when you refer to me and my people, call us the Fang-Clan—just as I have the common decency to call your people the Claw-Clan. Although ‘furry savages’ might be more accurate.”

  “We’re not savages. And I’d rather have fur over scales any damn day.” Drace glared at me and I felt his anger—always abundant and near the surface—bubbling up like molten metal in a pot. Gods, how had I gotten myself linked to such a crude savage? And one of the Claw-Clan, no less, who were the sworn enemies of my own people.

  “Gentlemen, if you please.” The high piping voice that cut into our argument—one of the many we’d had since our accidental bonding—belonged to Char-noth. The diminutive blue being who looked rather like a three-foot long terga worm to me, swiveled his eye-stalks to look at both myself and Drace at the same time.

  “Yes?” I asked coolly, holding my own temper in check with some difficulty. My bond-mate rubbed me the wrong way which was the exact opposite of the way psy-bonded males were supposed to react to each other. But then, what could you expect? Aside from coming from rival clans, we were both Alphas which went against the natural order of bonding in every way.

  “I was simply coming to inquire if you and your, ah…life-mate, have chosen a female from our Index yet,” Char’noth squeaked.

  “He’s not my fuckin’ life-mate,” Drace growled. “We’re just temporarily psy-bonded, that’s all.”

  “My friend here is correct,” I said, frowning. “And as to a female, I believe we have settled on that one.”

  I pointed to the Earth female who was struggling to get into what appeared to be a very primitive vehicle. She really was surpassingly lovely—not that it was her appearance we were interested in. Drace and I had both seen the way she was able to separate the two males who came seeking her help. She sent them off in different directions with the clear implication that they were free of each other. Through her intervention, the link between them had been severed—which was exactly what my unintended bond-mate and I wanted.

  “Ah—you have good taste—very good taste indeed, gentlemen,” Charo’noth piped. “But also expensive tastes I am afraid. This female is the most costly subject we have in our current database.” He named a price that made Drace suck in his breath.

  “That much?” he demanded. “Why is that? Why should she cost more than any other Earth female? Well, aside from the fact that she’s Goddess-damned gorgeous, that is.”

  He eyed our chosen female appreciatively and I couldn’t say that I blamed him. Denari females generally have pale, pearly gray skin which is considered quite beautiful. But I had never seen such an exotic skin tone as this female’s creamy light brown tint. Her large eyes were a liquid black fringed thickly with dark lashes and her hair was a profusion of black curls that framed her lovely face most attractively. As for her figure, it was exactly what I liked—full breasts with an ample ass and curving hips to match. She was, indeed, Goddess-damned gorgeous, as Drace had said.

  Well, at least we have the same taste in women, I thought dryly. It was one of the qualities psy-bonded mates were supposed to have since they both had to be passionately in love with the female they chose to join in their partnership, completing the Triumvirate Bond.

  Not that we wanted such a bond—the sooner I got free of my unintended bond-mate the better.

  “This female is a La-ti-zal,” Char’noth explained, breaking into my train of thought. “She is one of those blessed with special gifts from the Ancient Ones who sowed the seeds of life throughout the galaxy at the behest of the Goddess.”

  “How can you tell that?” Drace asked at the same time I said,

  “How can you make such a claim?”

  We both frowned at each other and I felt a surge of irritation going both ways through our link. It was aggravating in the extreme when we spoke the same thought at the same time and it happened more than I liked to admit.

  “Do you see her aura?” Char’noth gestured with two of his many clawed hands at the warm amber glow around our chosen female. “That radiance denotes one with special gifts. This female glows more brightly than any other in the Alien Mate Index.”

  “She does appear to have a strong aura,” I agreed grudgingly. “But what is her gift?” Those rare females who are blessed to be La-ti-zals often have one specific gift given by the Goddess of Mercy.

  “Right,” Drace put in. “Is she a Healer? An Opener? A Knower? What?”

  Char’noth’s long, wormy body made a rippling gesture which I recognized as a shrug.

  “That we do not know. We are working on a new device which will allow us to ascertain exactly what a particular La-ti-zal’s talent is but it is not yet perfected.”

  “So we’re supposed to pay through the nose just because she glows?” Drace grumbled. He looked down at Char’noth. “Look, we only need her for a minute. We just need a Pure One to touch both of us and dissolve our bond.”

  “My, ah, partner is correct,” I said, looking at Char’noth. “After this Earth female performs the same un-bonding service for us which we witnessed her enacting on the other two males she was dealing with, we will let her go. You can return her to her planet with no ill effects. Then you can…” I cleared my throat. “Can sell her contract again to another male.”

  My own words made me uncomfortable for some reason I couldn’t define. Maybe it was the idea of the little female being sold to some other Alien male. But then, that was the function of the AMI and it was the service Drace and I were buying from Char’noth and his fellow Commercians. Why should it bother me?

  Apparently it bothered Drace too. I felt his unease through our link.

  “I don’t like it,” he said abruptly. “I don’t want her getting sold after we leave to just any male who might use her and abuse her.”

  “We don’t even know her,” I pointed out, through I secretly agreed with him.

  “We know enough to know we’re both attracted to her,” he said. “Don’t lie, Lucian—she makes your cock hard. I can feel it through our bond.”

  “Is that a good enough reason to pay full price?” I asked coldly.

  “What—like you can’t afford it?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Thought you were some hot-shot litigator in your region.”

  “It’s not a matter of credit,” I said, frowning.

  �
�Well then what is it?” he demanded. “Look, I might not be as rich as you, but I’ve got credit. I’ll pay her entire price if I have to but I don’t want her being sold to another male once we let her go.”

  Deep down, I agreed with him—which was probably why I was resisting. Still, I couldn’t let him pay the female’s entire price.

  “We agreed to split the cost of this venture evenly,” I said. “You don’t need to take the whole expense on yourself.”

  “So you agree—we pay the whole amount and buy out her contract?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Getting unbonded from you is turning out to be as expensive as a Triumverate Ceremony to a female from the Feather Clan. But fine—we’ll do it.”

  “Good.” Drace turned back to Char’noth. “You heard him. We’ll pay the full price but we want her sent back to Earth unharmed when we’re finished.”

  “And no other male is to buy, bother, or in any way molest her,” I put in. “Agreed?”

  The Commercian nodded.

  “Agreed. Though we do not usually allow humans to have knowledge of us, we have found that a single human who tries to report our existence is not believed by the rest. Therefore, I will affix it to the terms of your contract when we transport her up to the station.”

  “When will that be?” I was itching to get myself un-bonded from Drace and I could feel that he felt the same.

  “Soon, Gentlemen. Let us wait and watch a little longer. I prefer to pick the right moment to bring the female through.”

  I didn’t know what the “right moment” might be but now that the final dissolution of the accidental bond between myself and Drace was near, I found I could wait a little longer.

  “Very well,” I said. “As long as the process isn’t interminable.”

  “As long as you don’t take all night,” Drace said, echoing my thought.

  “Not much longer,” Char’noth promised. She must be alone and in a private place. If too many Earthlings see her taken they will suspect our involvement in their lives and seek us out.”