Black Moon Dragon

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Black Moon Dragon Page 22

by Shelley Munro


  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “One more thing. I’m not sending you away. I want you with me, want to be with you, but the shenanigans of the other tribes make our relationship difficult. They’ll accuse me of trying to possess the relic.” He sighed and squeezed her shoulder. “You’d better go. Call if you need that lawyer or tell Hone.”

  She stared at him for a long time, then dipped her head in acknowledgment. The next minute, she was gone.

  * * * * *

  Jessalyn sat in the rear of the police car, her mind reeling at the discussion she’d overheard between Hone and Manu. Of course! If she’d used her brain, this obstacle would’ve been obvious. Something else to consider before this tribal meeting that was becoming bigger and scarier as the days passed.

  Mates. That hadn’t cropped up in her research either. She required more information.

  The police car parked outside the Papakura Police Station. The two policemen escorted her inside and directed her to an interview room.

  “Wait here,” the Asian cop said.

  Jessalyn claimed a seat while she mulled over what she’d learned. Yes, she was young in years. She’d turn twenty-two in two months. Her mind did a dash to Manu, and she wondered how old he was. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask since he never treated her like a kid. During her research, she’d discovered taniwha generally lived a long life—over one hundred years—if they weren’t killed for eating people.

  The door to the interview room opened. A plain-clothes female detective, dressed in a smart navy trouser suit, entered along with the Asian cop. They took the other side of the table to Jessalyn, making her feel as if she sat in the principal’s office. The detective read Jessalyn her rights and told her they intended to record the interview.

  “Do you understand these rights?” the sharp-eyed detective asked.

  “Yes,” Jessalyn said.

  The detective stated aloud her name and Jessalyn’s. The Asian cop added his name, and the session began.

  “Tell me how you know Danny Ngataki,” the detective started.

  “I met him when I was six. We went to school together and became friends because we enjoyed doing the same things. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  “Yet you had a disagreement at the pub. He made you lose your job. Didn’t that make you angry?”

  “Of course it made me angry. I liked working in the kitchen and the chef was teaching me stuff. I enjoy cooking, and because of Danny, the manager sacked me.” Jessalyn kept her voice even and answered the question truthfully.

  “So when you met later, you lost your temper and struck him on the head with a hunk of wood. You killed him.”

  “No, I didn’t. I haven’t—didn’t see Danny again after I shouted at him at The Viaduct and stormed away. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Who did you pay to kill him for you?”

  Jessalyn gaped at the detective and the silent cop. She snorted. “Don’t be silly. First, I don’t have the money to pay for that. I didn’t pay anyone to kill Danny. He was my friend, even if he had started acting weird.”

  “Weird, how?”

  “He insisted I was his fiancée, and he kissed me.” She shuddered. “It was slobbery and horrible.”

  “Witnesses at the pub say he told them you were engaged.”

  “They are wrong. I don’t—didn’t think of Danny in that way. We were friends. Nothing more.”

  “You withdrew an amount of ten thousand dollars in cash from your bank account. What did you do with it?” the detective asked.

  “What?”

  “Who did you pay the money to? Who did you pay to kill Danny? Tell us, Jessalyn. We can help you.”

  Jessalyn bit back a second snort with difficulty and focused on her clasped hands. These idiots truly believed she’d killed Danny. Heck, she’d been tempted to punch him, but she’d never kill him. Even if his companionship had been erratic, they’d been friends. She glanced up, her gaze connecting with that of the detective’s. The woman’s determination glinted in her eyes, but she didn’t have the right person.

  “I didn’t kill Danny or pay anyone to do it. My father died recently, and I received ten thousand dollars when I sold his vehicle. Since the bank check was made out to me, I paid the money into my bank account. I withdrew it the next day in cash because the fee for a bank check is outrageous. I walked out of the ANZ bank with the cash and into Westpac next door to deposit the money in my father’s business account. Along with my father’s house and vehicle, I inherited a mortgage, which was in arrears. The ten thousand cleared the amount owing and left extra to cover payments for a few months until I could get a job. I never saw Danny after I left him at The Viaduct. I neither killed him nor arranged anyone else to do the deed for me. Honestly, I wanted to flatten his nose for his rotten behavior, but I didn’t even do that. I ignored his shouts and walked away, leaving him standing outside the pub.”

  “Interview suspended at 11:03,” the detective said.

  The detective and the Asian cop rose and left the room.

  Ten minutes later, the detective returned. “You may go, Ms. Brown.”

  “Thank you,” Jessalyn said, her voice stiff. She followed the detective out to the visitor room and spied Hone and Cassie waiting for her.

  “Everything okay?” Hone asked.

  “I’m allowed to leave,” Jessalyn said.

  She didn’t speak until they left the police station and sat in Hone’s SUV.

  “They’re idiots. They accused me of putting a hit on Danny. I was more likely to punch his nose than waste what money I had paying someone to kill him.”

  Cassie laughed. “I am woman. Hear me roar.”

  “Pfffft!” Jessalyn said. “Hone, explain what a mate means in the taniwha world.”

  “Damn. Heard that, did you?”

  “My senses have improved,” Jessalyn said.

  “What about your taniwha? Can you shift?” Hone asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Has anyone ever told you how to shift?” Cassie asked, her curiosity obvious.

  “No.”

  “Do you have a kick-arse outfit to wear to the meeting?” Cassie asked, redirecting the conversation.

  “I own jeans, T-shirts plus a denim jacket. I donated my one dress to Hospice.”

  Cassie glanced at her husband and swiveled in her seat to wriggle her eyebrows at Jessalyn. “You’ve come to the right people. This is gonna be fun.”

  18 – Preparing For The Worst

  Jessalyn sat outside with Hone and Cassie, replete after a huge steak dinner and a dessert of apple-and-plum crumble with thick cream. Her mind drifted to the upcoming meeting, which would take place the following evening.

  She hadn’t seen or spoken to Manu since she’d left his house. Now she understood the mate concept, had Manu been playing her? Doubts had crept to the surface and had her second-guessing everything. Her taniwha offered no advice and remained silent as if she’d slipped into the same coma she’d slept in for most of Jessalyn’s life.

  Hone and Cassie had been great, even though Hone hadn’t answered her questions about Manu’s meeting. Cassie had helped her choose an outfit for the leaders’ meeting and decide on a hairstyle and makeup. The latter items weren’t something Jessalyn ever considered, but Cassie—who had confessed her secret identity as a popular country singer—informed her appearances were everything. Jessalyn must walk into the meeting projecting confidence and cool class if she had any hope of defeating these bossy and demanding taniwha.

  If only she could decide what else she should do.

  Her gaze lifted, drawn by the massive orb of the moon. Pale and lustrous. Beautiful. Watching it soothed the angst residing inside her, the uncertainties the following day would bring. But also, a faint edge of sensual awareness sizzled through her limbs, and that worried her.

  The truth—she didn’t want any man except Manu.

  Which was strange, considering the wretched man had separated them. Setti
ng her free, according to Hone.

  “Is that the relic?” Cassie asked.

  “What? Oh, yes.” Jessalyn hadn’t been aware she’d pulled it from beneath her shirt. Her fingers glided along the raised greenstone emblem. She froze and removed the pendant from around her neck for a better look.

  The symbol on the face had transformed into a manaia—a monstrous mythical creature. The bird head represented the sky, the fishtail indicated the sea and the body between depicted the land. Combined, they gave the wearer a guardian status and protected against evil.

  “That’s strange,” she said, studying the new design with awe. The relic was magical.

  “What?” Hone sat alert, but Jessalyn didn’t fear he’d seize the relic.

  “The greenstone design has changed. When I found the pendant, the greenstone was a koru. After a while, it changed to a fishhook and now it is a manaia.”

  Hone cocked his head. “Interesting.”

  “Explain it,” Cassie ordered.

  “From my research, the koru represents new life and growth. It can also mean peace. The fishhook is the symbol for safe travels—usually over water—and prosperity while the manaia is a guardian,” Jessalyn said.

  Hone tapped his chin, his gaze distant as he pondered. “It’s almost as if the relic has transformed with you, Jessalyn. Your life was changing when you found it. You were growing and learning skills. Safe travels might indicate your journey of discovery to Auckland. The arrival of the manaia indicates you’ve matured into your powers.”

  “I don’t feel different.”

  “But you’ve grown in confidence,” Cassie said. “What would’ve happened if this meeting was forced on you say, two months ago?”

  “I’d have run,” Jessalyn said. “Or burned the meeting place down with my fire.”

  “This week, you’ve done everything you can to prepare,” Cassie said. “You’re ready, and I think you’re going to kick their shapely Maori backsides.”

  Hone’s brows rose. “Whose backside are you checking out, sweetheart?”

  Cassie giggled. “Just yours. Jessalyn, could I look at the relic? Hold it for a few seconds?”

  Jessalyn hesitated.

  “Do it,” her taniwha whispered.

  Surprised by the sudden appearance of her dragon, Jessalyn obeyed the quiet inside order. “It gives off an energy that makes me happy when I wear it. It will be interesting to hear what you experience.”

  A pulsing silence had fallen with even the persistent click of the cicadas diminishing. She placed the pendant in Cassie’s outstretched hand, and her new friend started.

  “It sort of buzzes, and it’s warm to the touch. Oh, it’s beautiful. You can tell it’s old.” Cassie used her forefinger to trace the manaia motif. The pendant darted off Cassie’s fingers and floated back to Jessalyn. The relic hovered until she held out her hand, and the pendant settled against her palm. Strangely, the spurt of anxiety she’d experienced on handing over the pendant faded and a sense of wellbeing flooded her.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Hone said. “Did you know that would happen?”

  “No.” Jessalyn stared at the relic, surprised by the faint purring that echoed through her mind. A quick glance at Hone and Cassie suggested they hadn’t heard the satisfied sound. “I’m learning as I go along.”

  Hone frowned. “I hope it’s enough.”

  “Hone!” Cassie chided.

  “It’s all right,” Jessalyn said. “This meeting will challenge me. For a start, the attendees hold enough male testosterone to ignite the city. If anything, Hone is understating the difficulties I’ll face. All I have is my research, the relic, and my determination not to bow to tribal pressure. I understand the elders will force me to choose a mate.”

  “Oh, Jessalyn.” Cassie reached for her hand and gave it a commiserating squeeze. “What will you do?”

  Jessalyn sighed. “Play it by ear. My one option.” A thought occurred. “Each tribe is bringing an entourage of their most important people. Can I bring a support team?”

  Hone frowned. “Who did you have in mind?”

  Jessalyn turned to Cassie. “I’d like to take Cassie. She has already helped me with my appearance. Feminine advice will help me balance out the testosterone.”

  “No,” Hone said.

  “I accept!” Cassie said at the same time.

  “No, it’s too dangerous. She’s pregnant.”

  “Oh! Congratulations.” Jessalyn’s shoulders slumped.

  “What if I asked Manu if I could use one of his stealth units? Jessalyn needs someone on her team,” Cassie said.

  “No, absolutely not. Tempers will be high. Lots of male posturing.”

  “Look at it this way.” Cassie’s chin lifted in determination. “Our son or daughter should grow up in a world where women are respected. If these tribal leaders get their way, Jessalyn will find a marriage forced on her. This would end her freedom. She’d be little more than a prisoner. If I can help her prove she is the guardian for a reason and deserves her freedom, then I can lift my head in pride.”

  “Do you think I can best them?” Jessalyn asked in a faint voice.

  Cassie’s eyes flashed with yet more determination. “You will kick dragon butt.”

  Hone groaned. “I’ll call Manu, but if he vetoes this plan, you’re staying at home.”

  “Yes, Hone.” Cassie’s smartarse tone hovered near sweet as she turned to Jessalyn. “We’ll work on tactics in the morning.”

  “Cassie, thanks. I appreciate the support.” Jessalyn hoped it was enough and concentrated on standing her ground and embracing positivity. It was difficult when the urge to follow her mother and flee to Australia gnawed at her gut.

  19 - Male Testosterone

  Unexpectedly, the meeting was scheduled during the early afternoon, and it took place at a marae—the sacred meeting grounds—on the banks of the Waikato River.

  “This marae is designated as neutral ground,” Hone explained as the limousine they’d sent to collect Jessalyn pulled up outside. “Are you clear on the protocol?”

  “Yes, I’ve got this.” While her life had been outside the marae and the local community, she’d seen a powhiri—the Maori welcome—several times.

  “All right. I’ll let them know you’ve arrived. Cassie, sweetheart. If everything turns to shit, you get out of the marae. I’ll come for you.”

  “Jessalyn will protect me,” Cassie said.

  The utter conviction in Cassie’s voice had Jessalyn’s stomach twisting. She inhaled and eased the breath out in slow increments.

  “Jessalyn can’t shift,” Hone said.

  “Go,” Cassie ordered. “I promise to keep our baby and myself safe. I will not be that girl who acts with reckless abandon.”

  Jessalyn waited for Hone to leave before she exited the limousine. “Will this plan work?”

  Cassie’s invisible fingers squeezed Jessalyn’s arm. “At the very least, it will keep them off balance.”

  “True that,” Jessalyn murmured. “If this turns to shit, please follow Hone’s orders. I’ll do my best to protect you. I’ve been practicing my fire-breathing.”

  “Yep, I’ve watched. Most impressive. How come you don’t burn your throat and face?”

  A nervous giggle burst from Jessalyn. “A mystery. I wish my taniwha was awake. She’s been silent.”

  “I am here!”

  A gasp came from Cassie.

  “Inside voice.” Jessalyn straightened her shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

  With her pulse racing, Jessalyn stalked to the carved gateway at the entrance of the marae and waited for the men to notice her.

  Manu and the myriad strangers no longer wore the garbs of civilization. Each man was bare-chested and barefooted. They wore the traditional piupiu—a skirt made of dried flax—and the strands swished and parted, giving peek-a-boo sightings of hard male thighs. Dragon tattoos covered chests and backs and tribal bands curled around biceps. Some of the men had mok
o or facial tattoos. Others wore cloaks to display their mana or carried a taiaha, which Jessalyn knew had been used as a weapon in the past. These days, the long wooden spears were for ceremonial purposes.

  “Oh, my,” Cassie whispered at her side. “What a pretty sight. Be still my heart.”

  “Beauty is skin deep,” Jessalyn murmured, taking in the different faces amongst the crowd of taniwha warriors. She spotted Nelson Waaka and anger expanded, writhing through her body like a fast-growing vine. Although she didn’t have proof, Danny had died because of this man. Nelson’s greed had led to this meeting. Her gaze crawled over the other men. They were equally to blame for this situation.

  Manu.

  Her heartbeat blipped when she sighted his bare chest. She continued her scan of faces, committing them to memory. Some men, she recognized from the pictures she and Cassie had discovered online.

  “The sexy black beast,” her taniwha whispered.

  “He is not our friend today,” Jessalyn murmured.

  Manu parted from the mass of men, starting with the traditional powhiri or greeting issued when visitors came to the marae. Hone had told her to expect this, although this would be a male-only greeting. Manu pranced toward her, twirling his taiaha.

  He stole her breath with his strong voice, his melodic words in the Maori language, and his traditional facial expressions of wide eyes and poking tongue. He approached and dropped a piece of greenery at her feet.

  This was Jessalyn’s signal to accept the token to show she came in peace. She gritted her teeth, knowing as all of them did, this situation held the potential to explode. Peace, indeed!

  When Jessalyn stepped forward to scoop up the greenery as protocol demanded, an invisible Cassie began to sing a song in the Maori language. Jessalyn waited until Manu gestured her to advance, and he retreated deeper into the marae as she followed.

  Jessalyn remained impassive although she took pleasure from the uneasy looks exchanged amongst the men. What kind of trickery is this? She could practically hear their thoughts as she strode onto the marae. As she entered the large meeting house, Cassie’s waiata or song trailed off.

  “That is our seat over there,” her taniwha said in disdain.

 

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