Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4)

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Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4) Page 43

by Amos, Richard

“Almost seven in the morning.”

  I saw Becky shiver, giving the whole-body shake when someone walks over your grave. Fuck knows where that saying came from. Mama Rita used to say it sometimes.

  Why was I still so sad about her betrayal? I mean, she was my enemy, for fuck’s sake. I hated her. Proper hate. The opposite of love. Still, I missed our chats and her beef lasagna. Oh, tenshi. Her beef lasagna.

  Fuck her and all her cooking skills!

  “What happens at seven?” I asked.

  Paul looked at Becky, and she looked right back at him, looking like she’d seen a ghost party. Well, if she wasn’t already a ghost or whatever.

  “The Butcher Hound comes,” Paul said.

  “I don’t like that name.”

  “As you shouldn’t,” Becky responded.

  “What the hell is the Butcher Hound?”

  Paul pinched the bridge of his nose. “It comes to take people off the streets for the mayor and mayoress.”

  “The who?”

  “They run this city for the king.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. There’s a fucking king?”

  Paul nodded, Becky taking his hand. “There’s a king.”

  “With a palace? I didn’t see any palace.”

  “A castle. And you wouldn’t. It’s in the forest somewhere. No one can see it.”

  Okay. More to process. “How do you know it’s there if you can’t see it?”

  “We’ve seen it on TV.”

  “Right. Hang on. Let me just… So, there’s a king, and there’s a mayor and mayoress. Where do they live?”

  “On the edge of the forest in a mansion on the border of the western district. Beside a lake.”

  “What do they take people for?”

  “Bad things. If you live close enough to the mansion, you can hear the screams.” He held his girlfriend tight. “I’m glad we live where we do.”

  “Screams?”

  “They torture people. You don’t see people who’re taken again,” Paul replied. “Only if they make it to the games. Then you’ll just watch them get obliterated on TV.”

  “The king holds the Paradise Games once a month at the Paradise Arena,” Becky chimed in. “He picks contestants from those who’re taken and manage to withstand the torture from the mayor and mayoress, then puts them in the arena to fight. The opponents can be witches, warlocks, even werewolves. Depends on how far you get. You have to win ten rounds to win the grand prize. There have been winners, but not many. Most people seem to stumble around rounds three or four.”

  Lightbulb moment. Was this a clue to the trial? “Tell me more.”

  G had stopped moving, slipping into a building and taking a breath.

  Becky nodded. “If you win, you get the chance to live in luxury, in paradise. It’s so lovely over there. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted, a comfortable afterlife, plenty of sunshine.”

  “Unlike this place.”

  “Correct.” It was Janet, back in the room, and holding a pot of fresh coffee. “Not like this place at all. More coffee?” she asked in her smoky French tones.

  “Please.” I held out my mug.

  The cream was sitting on the bedside table. Paul creamed up my coffee for me and poured in a packet of sugar.

  What service.

  “Tell me how this place works,” I said. “I really don’t get it.”

  With G having a pause, I was good for a moment. I had to get as much info in me as I could.

  Janet sat on the bed. I scooted back a bit to give her more space, resting into a pile of pillows. The bar owner had a black mohawk, a red rose tattoo on her neck, and alabaster skin that reminded me of Colin.

  Would Colin be here? I’d taken his wolf power, and he’d run across the snowfields of Mount Tate while baku hunted him down. I had everything crossed I wouldn’t see that piece of shit here. I mean, good if he was here and dead, but I hoped it was in some smelly corner of this strange place.

  Fuck him and his star-killing ways!

  “This place is a shit hole,” Janet began. “And everyone ends up here as the age they were when they died. No matter how good or bad someone was in life, it’s this place they end up.”

  The afterlife, as the living understood it, was a vague thing, left for you to know when you were pushing up those daisies. The gist of it, though, was you’d go to a heavenly place and be with the tenshi (our divine creators) unless you were a proper nasty prick. If you were made of bad stuff, you’d go and hang with the mazoku (shadowy demons and generally pricks themselves).

  Hmmm.

  “I was a werewolf back when I was alive,” Janet added. “Long before your time. I’d be, what, ninety by now if I was still of the living. Died when I was twenty-seven in Versailles.”

  “Wow. Can you still shift and stuff?” I asked.

  “I can. Not that it means anything apart from being able to run away from the Butcher Hound faster. You don’t come across many wolves in the city.”

  “How come?”

  “I don’t know. Werewolves seem to disappear faster than any other creature and end up gone forever or in the games. I’ve been lucky, not being as dominant as other wolves. A woman and man came here once, a married couple who died together and arrived together. Lucky. Most people get separated when they come. I think it’s another cruel aspect of this place. Anyway, they were dominant wolves, really tough. You wouldn’t want to be on their bad side. You know the kind.”

  “I so do.”

  “The hound got them on their first day. That was ten years ago, and the last time I saw a werewolf in the flesh.”

  That sucked. “Glad you’ve slipped under the radar,” I said.

  “I’m sure my time will come. Would you like to hear some irony?”

  “Go on.”

  “The mayor and mayoress are the Butchers. Mrs. and Mrs. Butcher.”

  “For real?”

  She nodded. “Butchers by name, butchers by trade. Harold and Winnie Butcher and their not-so-cute doggy. Oh, and the Crimson Army. Watch out for them—they’re a really brutal police force that aren’t here to serve and protect.”

  I sipped my coffee. “That’s fucked up.”

  “Yep.”

  “So, this is it? This is death? That mansion must have some storage unit to house all the stolen people.” I sat up a bit. “Where do all the people who lose in the games go?”

  “They die,” Janet said.

  I looked to Paul and Becky, who were nodding in agreement.

  “Now that I really don’t get,” I said. “Like, I had to kill some mud things at the river before they killed me. But how can things die in a dead place?”

  Janet stood up. “Now, this is all speculation, as our entire existence in this city is, but you can die here.”

  I waited for more.

  She carried on. “We call it a second death. I’ve been here a long time and seen people die again, vanish from the city. You mentioned the river, and it was at the river I saw a man torn apart by a creature with tentacles. That was the end of him, never to be seen again.”

  Thank fuck I didn’t go in the water!

  She folded her arms. “I don’t understand it. Doesn’t sit right with me, with anyone here. It makes you wonder if you can die a third time after that. How many times do you have to go through death? Just because you’ve reached whatever stage this is, it means nothing. You’re not safe. This city can eat you alive if you’re not careful. Literally in some cases. It doesn’t seem fair. What about the people here who did nothing wrong in life? There are some really good people here. Completely selfless people who’ve ended up in the jaws of the Butcher Hound or killed again by something else.” She sighed. “King Daichi has a lot to answer for. Not that he ever will.”

  A Japanese name.

  “Everyone from all over the world seems to come here when they die,” Paul added.

  Defo a mega, mega big city. Ugh. This still made no sense. What did this have to do with my mission?


  G was moving, back on the streets again. He broke into a run. My babies growled. Oh, fuck. The Butcher Hound. Was he running from it? No. He slowed down, turning…left. Another street sign. I scrunched my eyes, leaning forward.

  “Akira?” Paul asked.

  “Hang on… Willow Street. Is that what that says?”

  “Willow Street?” Becky said. “That’s the closest point to the mansion, in the west of the city.”

  “What’s he doing over there?” I asked myself.

  “Who?” Paul wondered.

  “G…” Ah. I’d just landed myself in it.

  “Gabriel? He’s over on Willow Street?” He frowned. “How would you know that?”

  I went with the watered-down version. “I can sense him.”

  “Oh.”

  No more questions followed.

  G went inside another building, talking to some geezer. Coffee? Was that cake? A café? Whatever it was, I didn’t like him over there alone.

  “I need to go to him,” I said.

  “It will take some time to get over there,” Janet countered.

  “Then I best get moving.” Yeah, easier said than done. Didn’t give a shit about my wobbliness, which was fading anyway, but I needed clothes and—

  Like the careless dick I was, I suddenly realized I didn’t have my katanas.

  Ah, balls!

  I scanned the room. They were propped up in the left corner of the room, sheathed in their white holder.

  Janet watched me staring at them. “Who are you?” she asked. “It’s not every day a newly dead person comes here boasting a pair of fancy swords. Ils sont beaux.”

  “Er, sorry. Not hot on French. But that sounded nice.”

  “They’re beautiful,” she clarified.

  “Cheers.”

  “So, what are you?”

  Paul knew. Not about Bob and Rose, but about my half-wolfy nature.

  “Half-werewolf. Can’t shift. Son of the High Alpha.”

  Janet quirked an eyebrow at me. “Son of the High Alpha?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you can’t shift?”

  “Nope. Kind of driven a wedge between me and Dad. But whatever.”

  “What is your other half?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “You don’t know the other half of you?”

  I shook my head. “Bit shitty, eh?”

  “Your father doesn’t know?”

  “No idea.”

  “Hmmm…”

  “Yeah.” I looked at Paul, who smiled weakly. “They can take away the power of any supernatural creature,” I said. “My katanas.”

  Janet turned to look at them again. “Any power?”

  Fuck it. I went for the full explanation about the old swords and the cursed moon and Mama Rita, how I now had a fresh pair of blades. If they were all gonna betray me, not really as friendly as they were acting, I’d push through the wobbles and gut the lot of them.

  I was done with being fucked over.

  Sometimes I failed at judging peeps—see Mama Rita—but I didn’t get the stab-you-in-the-back vibes from any of these people. Paul had been a dick, but he wasn’t that kind of geezer. And anyway, how long would it be possible to keep up the secrets?

  I didn’t spill the dreaming death bit. Thought it might be best to keep that important card to myself. Along with my babies. I just said me and G had a weird connection since we died, and I could sort of see and feel what he was doing. Janet didn’t look too convinced but didn’t grill me on it, and the other two just looked head-scratchy and said nothing more about it.

  “I remember Mama Rita,” Paul said. “You two were close.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sucks that she betrayed you,” Becky added. “And your friend.”

  G was still in that café, not talking, sitting over by a window. Bob and Rose wound themselves between his legs as they always did. He was okay. Not outside.

  “The Butcher Hound,” I said. “It doesn’t go indoors, right?”

  Janet shook her head. “Not that I’ve ever heard of. I’m not sure if it can. Stalks the streets from seven until midday. It will, however, torment people into fleeing their shelter.”

  “It almost caught me once,” Becky said, shuddering again. “It filled our home with nightmares that weren’t really there to drive me outside. I resisted even if I was terrified out of my mind.”

  “Yikes! Good for you for holding on.”

  “Yep. That is the danger we face every day.”

  Paul and Becky held each other tight.

  “I think we should leave you to rest,” Janet said. “You’ll do well to stay indoors until midday. After that, I can see if I can find you some clothes.”

  “That’d be cool.”

  “We’ll leave you to it,” Paul said.

  “It was nice meeting you,” Becky offered.

  “You too. What’re you guys gonna be doing?”

  “Hanging downstairs at the bar,” Paul said. “We often bug Janet.”

  “They do,” Janet said affectionately. She opened the door, pausing. “Come down if you feel up to it, Akira.”

  “Will do.”

  They all left.

  I had zero intention of resting up.

  G was out there, and that hound was gonna be hunting right about now. I wasn’t leaving him to it.

  No fucking way.

  Chapter Four

  Thieving bastard alert!

  With everyone downstairs, I got to rummaging through Janet’s drawers for anything that’d help. Felt so dirty doing it, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

  I found some knickers—white with yellow flowers. I tried them on because any clothes were better than none. They just about fit, snug down there, but no riding up.

  Next were some moccasin slippers with rubber soles. I didn’t have gigantic feet, and these just about fit. They were red with roses on the ends. In fact, they were a bit loose, so I pulled on some flowery socks for a better fit.

  I tried a shirt. Too small across the shoulders. Jeans weren’t big enough to go around the waist.

  Shite!

  I’d have to stick to the dressing gown and knickers, then. And slippers.

  Hmmm…

  Dressing gown might be more of a ball ache than it was worth. Probably be easier to run around the streets naked until I found somewhere to grab some clothes from.

  The knickers were starting to ride up, sliding into my arse crack. Damn things were turning into a cotton thong. They’d have to go. But the slippers were okay. I paced the room in them. Yeah. Suitable for running like hell from an evil hound.

  A knock on the door.

  Shit! “Er, yeah?”

  “It’s me.”

  Paul! Ding went an idea. “Come in.”

  I sized him up as he entered the room. Yeah, he was a bit taller than me, but his clothes could work. What about his feet? They looked bigger. Wouldn’t work. I could try his trainers but nope. Already knew it wasn’t gonna happen.

  These slippers were seriously fine.

  “Akira?”

  “Yes, bruv?”

  He was sizing me up too. “What’s that on your feet?”

  “Listen, Paul. I need to take your clothes.” I pulled the knickers off and threw them on the bed. “That’s better.”

  “What in the tenshi’s name were you doing with those?” Paul pointed at them. “Are they Janet’s?”

  “Yeah. I need something to wear.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m getting out of here.”

  His eyes widened. “No. You can’t. Not now. It’s too dangerous out there like we told you. We’ll get you some clothes when it’s safe.”

  “I have to get to G.”

  “But—”

  “What if it was Becky?”

  “Huh?”

  “If that was Becky out there.”

  “That’s not… Shit.”

  “I have to find him. I ain’t sitting here whil
e he’s out there. End of. Can you help me? I just need your jeans and top. Footwear is working.”

  He looked down at my ruby slippers. “They’re really ugly.”

  “Hey, don’t judge.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Are you and Gabriel together? I always wondered.”

  “Huh?”

  “I just thought… Well, I got a feeling you were… I don’t know.”

  I didn’t know how to answer that one. “Take your clothes off.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Quit the blushing. You know what I mean. Not your undies, though. I’ll go commando after the chafing I just had to suffer.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You didn’t say what, eh?”

  “That I’d—”

  “Please. I’ll beg you if that’s what you want.”

  “Why would I want that?”

  Once upon a time, you’d have loved me to beg for your help. I couldn’t go down that road. Not now. We were cool, and I was done. This was the end for me and Paul—the true end. The regular Akira move of fucking things up wasn’t gonna be pulled out of the hat this time. I wanted to get out of here, leave Paul with a positive memory of me in this shit hole of a place. That sounded arrogant. Becky was his mega positive. Still, I didn’t wanna leave him on any bad terms.

  I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m really worried about G. I know he can handle himself ‘cos he’s the beta, but this ain’t the real world, is it? This is all new, and there’s some crazy hound out there hunting, and some mayor and mayoress wankers as well as a king. And he’s a werewolf. They don’t last long here, according to Janet.” Another sigh. “What if he doesn’t know about this stuff? He might not be as lucky as me to find you guys and get the lowdown.” There was someone else in that café place with him. “I have to get over there and find him. And I need your help, Paul. Please.”

  He regarded me for about half a minute. “If it was Becky, I’d be doing the same. I can see how much you care about him—even if you’re a thing or not. I want to help. But Janet’s right. It will take you a while to get there. About three hours on foot.”

  “Shit. Seriously?”

  “Afraid so. There’s an underground rail network, terminates at Willow Street. But the trains won’t be running while the hunt is on.” He shivered. “Those people who live in the tunnels…”

 

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