Sweet Moon Dreams

by Rose Marie Wolf

  “Hang on!” Eric yelled. He put the finishing touches on the dead bodies. They had piled the dead body of the woman and Marcus together in the center of the room. Dousing them with gasoline, he stepped back to watch the fire quickly reach the flammable liquid and ignite. The house was now a raging inferno. There wouldn’t be much left by the time the fire was discovered.

  Michael darted out of the house. He coughed from the smoke as he exited. Eric was close behind him. He ducked down to avoid hitting his head against a flaming beam. He returned to the van as Michael took the BMW.

  The next part of the plan wasn’t going to be too easy. They had to lose the BMW and Eric’s initial idea was to burn it with the house, but that idea was quickly scrapped. It would be identified sooner or later, and Eric knew Simon would want it to be much later.

  Instead, the BMW was going to end up in the bottom of a lake, and Eric knew just the right one. It would be only a slight detour. He lead the way out of the driveway and back down the narrow winding road, as smoke rose into the sky. The horizon behind them was as bright as a sunrise. Red spilled across the earth and sky.

  The lake was only a few miles from the house. He had spotted it from the road. They pulled off the road and flipped off the headlights in order to not be detected by any locals. Michael put the BMW in neutral on the edge of the lake, stepped out, and together, he and Eric pushed it into the water.

  It was deep enough to sink the fancy vehicle, and they both stood to watch as the water covered the roof of the car. Soon, the black car once belonging to Marcus was at the bottom of the lake.

  It had been easier than they had thought.

  Without exchanging words, the two men climbed into the van. Michael stared out the window and studied the now serene looking lake. A smile spread over his soot and grim covered face.

  “Too bad we couldn’t have kept that BMW. I could’ve done things with that…” he said, with a shake his head. Eric gave a slight scoff and reached for his cell phone.

  “With what time? Simon never gives us a day off.”

  Michael glanced over and shrugged. “Well, whenever. Shame to see it go.” He fell silent. Eric dialed the number.

  Driving with one hand, the other holding the phone to his ear, Eric careened dangerously down the country roads. There was the necessary few seconds before the phone picked up.

  “Simon. We got rid of everything.” There was a pause. Michael couldn’t hear what was being said, but he inclined his head and attention toward Eric just the same.

  Eric’s eyebrows went up in an obvious look of surprise. “Really…” he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

  “What?” Michael asked, but was silenced with a harsh look from Eric. Eric rarely showed surprise or shock of any kind. This had to be big.

  He waited. Eric’s eyes never left the road, and soon, they were back on the main highway. They headed toward where Simon had told them to meet.

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “We’re on our way now. We’ll be there soon.” He shut off the phone. He sighed as he tossed it into the console compartment. “Damn it.”

  “What is it? What happened?” Michael asked once more. He held an eager look to his young face. Eric regarded him with a very cold gaze.

  “The wolves were there at the same hotel, and no one realized it until it was too late. They got away.”

  Michael blinked a few times, in disbelief. “They were right there…and they got away?” He let out a chuckle. “Simon won’t be able to live this one down.” He grinned.

  “Simon is pissed,” Eric said. Michael’s grin faded. “I’d avoid trying to kid around with him for a very long time.”

  “Yeah. No different than any other day, right? So, why haven’t they gone after them?”

  Eric shook his head. “I don’t know. Simon didn’t say. He just told us to get our asses in gear and meet them there.”

  Michael fell silent briefly. He watched the headlights of passing cars grow brighter as they neared and disappeared behind them. “Why do I have this bad feeling we may have gotten in over our heads?”

  It was Eric’s turn to be silent. He concentrated on the road, but he mulled over the question as well. He had his orders, and he was loyal to Simon. That man had saved him once before and now he was indebted to him. But that was something he never mentioned. The point was he trusted him.

  But he too felt they had gone too far. What was going to happen to them next? Where was this road going to take them? He shook his head and finally answered his companion.

  “Because maybe it’s true… Maybe we have gone too far.”

  “But Simon—” Michael interjected.

  “I don’t question him.”

  Silence once again filled the cab of the van. It was an uncomfortable silence punctuated with that nagging idea in both men’s minds. There was more to this than either of them had initially realized. It was something more than just trying to apprehend suspects, even preternatural ones, and bring them to justice. Eric couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  But soon, he knew he would have to find out what this was really all about.

  Chapter Eleven

  The clock on the wall told the hour to be half past ten. Its annoying ticking had gradually increased in volume all night and it was just the thing to cause Simon to snap. He had been on the verge of it all day.

  Things had gone from bad to worse in a matter of a few hours. Marcus was dead, the wolves were on the run, and Simon was forced to wait.

  But waiting was something he could handle

  However, Simon, for perhaps the first time ever, had to recognize his defeat. Instead of flying off the handle, he kept his cool, thankful he had self-control enough for that. He wasn’t sure just how long it would last though.

  He lit up yet another cigarette and breathed in the acrid smoke. The blue-grey haze circled around him as he refocused his attention on the screen before him. No one had responded to his messages yet. That was upsetting as well, but Simon held it within. He exhaled a deep breath and gave a grim shake of his head. Things had better start turning around.

  There had been too many setbacks and too many rules disobeyed, and he felt much farther from his goal than when they first started. They were taking one step forward and two steps back each time something presented itself.

  But no matter. He knew where they were going, and he would be there soon enough to meet up with them. This was the only thing that really kept him going. He knew they were there, in the room beside them. He recognized the bike, among other things. He didn’t want to kill them, yet. He had other plans in mind.

  A smile moved over his face at the thought of encountering them. It would be perhaps the single most satisfying experience in his life to date, but he was sure many more would follow. Many, many more…

  How long ago had it been? Years, months… Time all blended together, and he was not certain just when he had begun concocting this plan. But he had a plan, and it was flawless. It was going to work. Despite the mess Marcus and Davis had created, Simon was confident in that. He would just have to…work around things.

  A sigh from behind him momentarily brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked behind him. Claire was seated there, her legs crossed over one another in the chair, her back hunched. Her hands held her forehead. She appeared deep in concentration, or frustrated.

  Simon ignored her. She hadn’t done anything except fund his adventure, and the technology provided had been sufficient. Now, she was a constant source of nagging. He didn’t really need her any more but it wasn’t like he could just let her go…

  So, here Claire remained, and Simon kept a vigilant watch on her. She would be the one who would cause the most trouble, he knew. Davis was too stupid to do anything else.

  Having thought of Davis, Simon looked over toward the bed where he had passed out. The man was sprawled out, bottle of pain killers clutched loosely in one hand. Simon gave a slight sneer.

  Mistakes had been
made. They wouldn’t happen again.

  Davis would have to go. He had fucked up enough. Simon would think of the proper way to dispose of him later. All he could do right now was to wait for Michael and Eric to arrive.

  Simon shifted his position where he sat on the bed and stretched out one leg. His arm rested on his knee, cigarette precariously balanced between two fingers. He stared out at the window, waiting for any headlights to pull into the drive. His eyes focused on nothing and he took another drag from his cigarette.

  His thoughts began to drift away once again, to a different time, and a different place…back to when things had been simpler.

  * * *

  The Paranormal Research and Development Institute’s main building was, for the most part, dark the night he went there. A few solitary lights burned in a few of the upstairs rooms, but Simon didn’t concern himself with them. What he wanted was on the ground level.

  Stealthily, Simon made his way across the lawn. The PRDI was behind the times. The place didn’t have a very high-tech security, and he knew getting in would be a cinch. Getting out without being noticed would be the hard part. Clad all in black, a backpack firmly fit across his shoulders, he easily blended into the shadows and moved quickly around the back of the building.

  A ground level window was his entrance point, and lucky for him, the window was unlocked. Perhaps a student had unlocked it earlier in the day, to open it for some fresh air, but had forgotten to lock it back when it was shut, or perhaps the lock was faulty. Simon could think of a hundred scenarios, but it didn’t matter.

  The window’s opening was just large enough for him to slide within. Once he was in the dark room, he cautiously shut the window. He observed his surroundings, making out the shapes of furniture and discerning just what, if anything, was lurking in the shadows. His eyes adjusted quickly.

  Simon used caution to move through this room and found the door he was looking for. The “Restricted” sign on the door caught the light that filtered in through the window and glinted brightly. And just as he had figured, it was locked.

  It was a simple matter of removing the lock picking kit from his pack and fiddling with the lock. After all, Simon knew how to get from one place to another, even when the place seemed virtually impenetrable.

  It was what made him such a good hunter.

  He was here for the files. It was common knowledge that the PRDI kept files on many known werewolves and other supernatural creatures, and kept them fairly up-to-date. The files included a detailed history of the subject, phone numbers, and last known residential addresses. It was exactly what Simon had been looking for.

  He cursed himself for not thinking of this option sooner, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was he was here, and he had a task to do.

  The filing system was rather complex, Simon soon found out. They were not categorized by species or affiliation, as Simon had expected, nor were they classified by alphabetical order. They were classified by dates.

  Simon cursed under his breath at this discovery and held himself back from tearing all the files into confetti. Instead, he took a deep breath and began sifting through the files, starting with the most recent.

  It was a few files later before he finally came to a few that contained werewolves as the subject. That’s just what he wanted. These folders were set aside, ready to be taken back with him once he had finished his search here.

  He knew the PRDI would become suspicious of the missing files, but Simon didn’t care. By the time they found out, he would have all the information he needed. He smirked to himself at the thought.

  He continued his search in a better mood. After his initial findings, he ran into a dead end. There was nothing else there. Fervently, he tore through the files. He removed one, only to have its contents spill upon the floor.

  Holding back another curse, he bent to pick up the spilled papers and photographs and found himself staring at a picture of a stunning figure. He blinked once or twice, transfixed for a moment by the woman whose photograph he was looking at.

  Immediately, he glanced through her papers. He had to know who she was. There was something about her. Written on the very first page of her file was the topic he had been searching for all night.

  Werewolf.

  He slowly replaced the information back into the folder and stared at the smiling woman in the photograph. Already a plan formulated in his mind, and a grin spread across his face.

  Forget the usual hunt. This was going to be something more. Something he could toy with for a while, something to test his skills with. It would be the hunt of a lifetime. It was just what he was looking for.

  And Simon knew for sure he would deeply enjoy it.

  The folders he had found so far were placed in his pack, and he was ready to go. Forget these other werewolves. There would be time enough later to find them. This was a once in a lifetime event.

  And he wasn’t going to pass it up.

  He retraced his steps expertly, closed and relocked the door, and exited through the same window. He left nothing to show he had been there. And once he was away from the Paranormal Research and Development Institute, he let out a small chuckle.

  “Well, Rose Sullivan…” He spoke softly to himself. “I don’t know where or who you are, but I am going to find you. You can count on that.”

  * * *

  The file sat next to him on the bed, and Simon realized he was looking through it with a sense of nostalgia. Quickly, he closed the file and moved to turn back to the computer. Claire sat upright and watched him.

  Her face was more pale than usual. Her lips were nearly white. Simon refrained from smiling cruelly. Claire had no idea what was truly going on. No one really did.

  She was ready to open her mouth and speak, but she must’ve thought better of it because she turned her head away and glanced toward the window. Simon followed her gaze and noted a pair of headlights gleaming in the parking lot.

  “That had better be Eric,” he growled and stood up from his seat on the bed. He made his way to the window and peered out of the blinds. The familiar white van pulled into a parking place beside their car.

  “Is it them?” Claire spoke up finally. She lifted herself a few inches off her seat and strained to get a view.

  “Yeah, it’s them.” Simon threw a contemptuous glance over at Davis and rolled his eyes.

  “Can you believe this dumbass?” he asked as he looked over to Claire. He walked the few steps toward the other side of the room, leaned close to Davis’ face and yelled. “Wake up, asshole!”

  With a sudden jerk, Davis sat upright. His hands immediately went for his head. He grasped it between his palms and moaned loudly.

  “Fuck! Simon, what the fuck?” He tightened his eyes shut and grimaced in pain.

  “Get your ass up. Eric and Michael are here,” Simon instructed. He reached and took the pill bottle that had dropped onto the bed. “And take it easy with these. I want you at least coherent enough to understand me.” He pelted the bottle at Davis, and it bounced off the swollen lump at the back of his head.

  “Ow!” Davis exclaimed. He doubled over on the bed and grabbed his precious medication. “Don’t be such a dick.”

  “Fuck you.” Simon cast one last glare at Davis as he walked toward the door. He threw it open. Eric and Michael both stood by the van. Smoke curled from the cigarette in Eric’s hand.

  “Hey, Simon.” Michael was the first to greet their leader. Simon gave him a harsh look, and he fell silent.

  “Don’t ‘hey’ me. Get your sorry ass in there and help them with the stuff. I want to be out of here in ten minutes.”

  Eric raised one dark eyebrow at Simon as Michael quickly hurried off to help, only too eager to comply to avoid the wrath of Simon. Claire stood in the doorway and watched with her arms crossed.

  “Bad night?” Eric said with just a hint of mirth evident in his voice.

  “Oh don’t you fucking start acting cute, too. I have enough o
f that shit from Davis.” Simon roughly opened the sliding door of the van and climbed inside. An array of technical junk lined the vans walls and the seats. Annoyed, Simon tossed stuff aside.

  “Where is that sniveling scumbag?” Eric asked, drawing on his cigarette.

  “Inside, high on pain meds. Where else do you think he would be?”

  Eric gave a short laugh. “Right…”

  Michael’s voice interrupted the conversation. “Simon! Simon!”

  Simon growled under his breath. “What is it now?” he muttered to himself as he climbed out of the van. He walked around to the front, to see Michael standing in the door to the room.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got a message,” Michael reported. He lugged one of the heavy suitcases out to the van. “You better check it out.”

  “About damn time,” Simon answered in a low voice. He made his way back inside the hotel room. Eric followed not too far behind and crushed his cigarette on the sidewalk with the toe of his boot. He paused in the doorway.

  Simon was already at the computer. He sat and peered down at the flashing screen. Davis was still on the bed, sitting instead of lying down. He rubbed the back of his head. His hateful gaze went unnoticed by Simon.

  Claire chose to ignore the proceedings and took her time replacing things in the other suitcase. The folders from the PRDI went into a special compartment and she planned on getting a closer look at them later. Maybe she could anticipate Simon’s next move. She highly doubted it, but she wasn’t without hope.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Michael asked Davis. The injured man’s hateful stare left Simon and focused now on Michael. His expression was sour, lips curled into a frown.

  “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  “He had a run in with a werewolf,” Eric said from his place in the doorway. One beefy hand rested on the frame, and his massive body blocked all exit to the outside.