Luna Proxy #4 (Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

by Flynn, Mac

  I stood, and our host's smile widened. "It's quite extraordinary how you're weathering such a curse. Most people would be writhing in agony by this point."

  "Maybe your assessment isn't quite right," I suggested.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's not possible, but I'd like for you to come by later this evening. If not for dinner, than for me to examine you more closely."

  "We'll come back," Vincent agreed.

  Celo smiled. "Excellent. Let's say six o'clock?"

  Vincent nodded. "We'll be there."

  Celo stood and bowed to us. "Then I will you not farewell nor goodbye, but a 'we'll see each other soon.'"

  "Yeah, sure," Vincent returned.

  The servant led us into the grand lobby and opened one of the front doors for us. We stepped outside into the mid-afternoon of the chilly autumn day. I paused at the end of the walk that lay closest to the overlook. Beneath us was the small hamlet, and beyond that was the highway.

  Vincent moved to stand beside me. "Why didn't you want to stay there?"

  "Because he's lying about the store, and he might be lying about helping me," I told him. My eyes swept over the town below us. A cold breeze blew past and made me shiver. "Remember that bad feeling you got about this place?" He nodded. "I think I've got it now, too."

  He pursed his lips. "But we can't leave without the cure."

  "If he has he cure," I pointed out. I raised a hand and flexed my fingers. The fever was still there, but the double-vision was gone.

  "It's worth staying for," he insisted.

  I sighed and wrapped my arms around myself. My soft words were taken by the wind and danced ominously around us. "Not if we don't get out of here alive."

  CHAPTER 5

  We trudged down the paved road and into the depths of the town. The locals milled about as before and cast furtive glances in our direction. I stopped halfway down the first block and swept my eyes over the street.

  Vincent nearly stumbled into me. He followed my gaze. "What's wrong?"

  "We should look for that store," I suggested.

  "But he said it was closed," Vincent reminded me.

  I noticed letters on a building a block down that read 'Grocery.' "I still don't believe him."

  I strode down the block and Vincent hurried behind me. We arrived at the front of the building. The cash register on the other side of the window and the long aisles of food confirmed what I saw. A sign on the clear glass door read 'Closed.'

  "See? Closed," Vincent told me.

  "I can read," I snapped. I stepped up to the door and leaned forward to peek inside. The store lights were shut off and nothing moved. "Damn. . ."

  Vincent grasped my upper arms. "Come on. We need to get you to the hotel before that fever gets worse."

  I shrugged off his hands and spun around to glare at him. I stretched out my arms on either side of me. "Does this look like the edge of death?"

  "No, but-"

  "No 'buts!' I'm not going to be dying today, or anytime soon!" I insisted.

  I marched around him and down the block. I'd gone only two steps when Vincent grabbed my arm and swung me around so I faced him. His lips were pursed and his eyebrows crashed down.

  "There's something I haven't told you about the fever you had in the forest," he admitted.

  I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  His eyes flickered to the area around us. A dozen inhabitants stopped to gawk at us. One of them was a policeman.

  "Not here," he whispered.

  He took my hand and pulled me down the street in the direction of the hotel. I stumbled after his quick walk. My eyes fell on our joined hands. His touch was warm and strong. A faint blush rose in my cheeks. I ground my teeth together and shook my head. Stupid feminine thoughts.

  "Excuse me!" a voice called.

  Vincent stopped, and we both glanced over out shoulders. The officer I'd seen earlier hurried up to us. He was a stout man of six feet with a dark blue uniform and brown hair. His age was around forty-five, and at his side was a pistol.

  "My name's Officer Perpello. I couldn't help but notice that you two were strangers in this town," he commented.

  I pulled myself from Vincent's grasp and raised an eyebrow. "Is that a crime here?"

  He smiled and shook his head. "No, but I need to know if you carry any weapons."

  "Why?" I asked him.

  "This is a gun-free town, so any weapons need to be confiscated and held at the station until you leave," he explained. He looked from me to Vincent. "Do either of you happen to carry?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  His eyes fell on my stomach. "You're sure?"

  I frowned at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "Why would we lie?"

  He chuckled. "Well, some people object to the policy. That's why we give the warning. Otherwise we'd be throwing people in jail, and that'd be bad for them."

  "Why is that?" Vincent spoke up.

  Officer Perpello shrugged. "Our jail isn't that well-maintained, and since we have so few 'guests' we'd probably forget to feed the people." His eyes flickered to me and his lips curled up higher. "If you know what I mean."

  My eyes narrowed. "Perfectly."

  "So nothing to declare?" he wondered.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Not a thing."

  "All right. I guess I'll be on my way-oh, and one more thing," he added. "I also need to inform you of our curfew. No one's allowed out after ten in the evening until four in the morning."

  "We'll be sure to obey it," I promised.

  He smiled and gave a nod. "Good. You two have a good stay."

  He bowed his head and strolled off. I glanced up at Vincent. "Still got that bad feeling?'

  "More than ever," he replied.

  "Me, too. Let's get to that hotel and talk about what you wanted to talk about," I suggested.

  We hurried down the road to the largest building on the main street. It was a two-floor white building with wood siding, evenly spaced tall, wide windows, and a pair of large glass doors on the front. Above the doors was painted the name 'Erus' Hotel.' The entrance led into a small, carpeted lobby. On either side of the lobby were two archways that led into two rooms. One was a dining hall, and the other an assembly room. At the back of the lobby were the stairs to the upper floor, and beside those was the front desk. A tall man stood behind the desk and smiled at us. I guessed this was Mr. Erus.

  "Good afternoon," he greeted us as we walked over to the desk.

  I set my arms on the desk and looked around. "We were looking for-"

  "A room? Or two? Mr. Celo wasn't sure, so he booked two rooms for you," the man informed us.

  "Why'd he do that?" I asked the man.

  The man shrugged. "Because Mr. Celo is that generous. Now which would you like? One or two?"

  Vincent cleared his throat. "We'd like-"

  "We'd like one," I interrupted him. Vincent blinked at me. I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around one of his. A deep blush appeared on his cheeks. "Why wouldn't we want one room, darling?"

  "Dar-ouch." I'd ground my heel into his foot.

  I turned to the proprietor. "One room, please, and preferably one at the front. The main street is so quaint."

  "We are proud of it," Erus agreed as pushed an open book towards us. A pen was wedged in the spine. "Sign in here and I can give you your key."

  I wrote down our names, or a modification thereof. We hadn't told Celo our last names, so I wrote 'Mr and Mrs Vincent Mortale.' Eros turned and slipped a key off one of a dozen hooks that hung behind him as I put the pen down. We traded the book for the key, and he bowed his head to us.

  "I hope you have a good, long stay with us," he commented.

  "I'm sure we will," I agreed as I pulled Vincent towards the stairs.

  We climbed up to the second floor. The rooms occupied both the rear and front of the building. Ours lay in the center of the front. I opened the door and we stepped into a small single-ro
om suite. There was a single bed against the left wall and at the rear of the room. To our immediate left was a doorway that led into a bathroom. On the wall opposite us were two of the tall windows.

  I strode over to one of the windows and brushed aside the lacy curtains. The room had a good view in either direction. I dropped the curtain and spun around to face Vincent.

  "You wanted-" That's when I was hit with another attack. The world spun around me. I staggered to one side.

  "Leila!" he yelled.

  Vincent dropped the bag of our supplies and hurried to my side. He held onto me to keep me from falling.

  "The. . .the bed," I mumbled.

  Vincent led me over to the bed where I sat down on the end and clutched my head in my hand. I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth. I tried to will the fever and dizziness away, but the nausea would not be suppressed.

  "Are you feeling okay?" Vincent asked me.

  "Just dandy. . ." I muttered.

  I heard movement. Vincent's shadow left me for a moment and then returned. I opened my eyes and found he stood over me. His hands were clasped at his sides, and in one was a familiar grass plant. The stems were shriveled, but there was no mistaking it.

  My eyes widened and I looked up into Vincent's tense face. "What are you doing with that?" I questioned him.

  He knelt in front of me and opened his palm between us. "You need to eat some of this."

  I furrowed my brow. "Why?"

  "For the last few days I've been giving this to you. I thought it might help you," he explained.

  I raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you think that?"

  "Glenna called you a proxy, and this was the Proxy Plant, so I thought there might be a connection between you," he reminded me. He looked down at the fragile plant in his palm and pursed his lips. "And. . .and it was all I could give to you when you were really sick. You wouldn't swallow any of the beans or the roots."

  "But how'd you know this was the Proxy Plant?" I asked him.

  He smiled up at me and shrugged. "You said we needed to be careful, so I watched what she put into her soups in case she slipped something extra in them. The night I had my bad dream was the day when she slipped this plant into the soup."

  I picked up a slim piece of grass and examined the herb. My double-vision made me see two strands. "And do you really think it helped me?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. Your fever broke the same day I gave some to you."

  I winced as another wave of nausea swept over me. "What's there to lose. . .?"

  I bit on the stem and tore the plant in half. My teeth ground the grass for a few moments before I realized I looked as stupid as a cow, and swallowed. The grass slid down and away from my nerve sensors. A bitter taste remained on my tongue.

  Vincent leaned close enough that our noses almost touched and stared at me without blinking. I rolled my eyes.

  "I don't think it's going to work immediately," I told him.

  He sheepishly grinned at me and pulled away. "Sorry."

  "You'd better not be," I warned him as I chewed the other half of the grass stem. "How much of the grass did you give me when I was sick?"

  "About a quarter of the bundle over a couple of hours," he told me.

  I looked down at the grass in his hand and frowned. "That means this stuff won't last long."

  "Maybe we can get more," Vincent suggested. "Did you see where Glenna picked it?"

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No. She went out of the meadow and came back with it."

  I picked out an eight of what remained. "I'll eat this much and take a nap. Maybe that'll help."

  He smiled and stood. "Good idea. I'll keep watch."

  "And don't answer the door without waking me up first," I advised him.

  I chewed on the grass and lay down for a well-deserved rest.

  CHAPTER 6

  The dream came to me again. I stood in the barren valley with the canyon at my back. Vincent stood in front of me. His blood-red coat billowed around him, beckoned by some unseen wind to dance. A frown graced his lips and his emerald eyes glowed in the gray darkness that surrounded us. There was a tinge of blood-red in their depths.

  "You have proceeded nowhere," he scolded me.

  I scowled at him. "That's rich coming from someone who still doesn't remember anything."

  He held up a hand so the fingers curved upward. The fingers were long, and the nails ended in sharp claws. "You consume what he needs."

  I raised an eyebrow. "You mean the Proxy Plant? What's that got to do with anything?"

  "It is a gateway, an agent to the dark recesses of one's soul," he commented.

  I folded my arms across my chest and snorted. "Do you honestly believe I'm going to understand what that means?"

  My eyes widened. One moment he stood twenty feet from me, and the next he towered over me. His hand shot out and grasped my neck. He lifted me a foot off the ground so our faces were even. I grabbed his hand and clawed at his fingers, but they didn't budge.

  He stuck his face in mine. His lips curled back in a snarl that revealed long, sharp teeth. "Don't waste the plant on yourself. Give it to him," he demanded.

  I narrowed my eyes. "No."

  The hand around my throat tightened. "Why not?" he hissed.

  I gasped for breath. "Because I. . I've seen what happens. . .when he. . .takes that plant." I stuck my face closer to his and looked into the depths of those blood-emerald eyes. "And I won't do it."

  The monster curled back its lips in a smirk. "Then you would deny him who he really is?"

  "I would. . .deny him pain," I choked out.

  He chuckled and strode forward to the chasm at my back. My eyes widened as he stretched out his arm and dangled me above the abyss. "Then know pain yourself."

  His hand opened. My eyes widened as I dropped into nothingness. My feeble attempt to hold onto his hand failed as my fingers slipped. Air rushed past me as I twisted around and looked at my doom. The river of water was now a rush of flames and lava. The heat from the inferno burned my face. I threw up my arms and shut my eyes.

  And fell off the bed.

  My nose hit the hard floor beside a pair of feet. I tried to put my hands on the floor and raise myself on my arms, but my body was wrapped tightly in the bed covers and a familiar red coat. Vincent, to whom the feet belonged, knelt beside me. There was a stupid grin on his face.

  "Hold still. You slept a little rough," he commented. He pulled at the blankets, and I was tossed and turned.

  "I'm not a hot dog heating on a rack!" I snapped at him.

  He paused and blinked at me. "A hot dog-oh! Right, sorry." I glared at him, and he sheepishly grinned. "It slipped out."

  I rolled my eyes. "Just get me-" There came a knock on the door. I twisted my head in that direction and lowered my voice. "Who's that?"

  Vincent put on his coat and worked away at the sheets. "I don't know. You told me to wake you up when someone knocked."

  My face fell. "I didn't mean try to kill me."

  "Try to kill you?" he wondered as his efforts freed me.

  I sat up and rubbed my nose. "Yeah, with shoving me off the bed."

  Vincent shook his head. "But I didn't wake you up. You flew off the bed at the same time someone knocked. I thought that woke you up."

  I paused and raised an eyebrow. My memories recalled the strange and terrifying dream. If someone hadn't knocked, then would I have woken up before I hit the lava?

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Stupid thought."

  "Pardon?" Vincent asked me.

  "It's nothing." I'd fallen off the right side of the bed, so I peeked over the top and looked at the door. The dim light from the window at my back told me it was late afternoon. "Come in!"

  I expected Erus to enter. Instead the figure who slipped noiselessly into the room was much shorter, but no less familiar.

  "Abraham?" Vincent wondered.

  It was indeed the young boy we'd seen earlier with his irascible mother. The boy cl
osed the door behind him without a sound and turned to scowl at Vincent.

  "The name's Bram," he corrected him.

  I climbed to my feet and kicked the bed sheets away from me. "I don't care what your name is. What are you doing here?"

  He put a finger to his lips and glanced over his shoulder at the door. His eyes widened and he rushed around the bed. The boy pushed me away from the bed and ducked under the frame.

  I frowned. "What are you-" Another knock came from the door.

  "Mrs. Mortale? Mr. Mortale? Is everything all right?" Erus' voice called through the entrance.

  I glanced down at the bed frame. Bram stuck his head out and nodded. His eyes were wide and pleading. I sighed.

  "We're all right," I replied.

  "That's good to hear. I was about to retire for dinner. Did you need anything else?" Erus offered.

  Bram grabbed a blanket and shook it at me. I rolled my eyes. "Maybe a few more blankets for the bed," I told the proprietor.

  "Sure thing. I'll be right back," he agreed. The soft tread of his shoes on the carpeted hallway disappeared into the distance.

  I glanced down at our uninvited 'guest.' "What the hell are you doing here?"

  He slipped out from under the bed, but kept his back against the frame for easy instant access. "You guys are planning on leaving, aren't you?"

  "Leaving Celatum?" Vincent guessed.

  Bram glared at him. "No, leaving Earth. Of course leaving Celatum!"

  "Listen, kid, we're not a babysitting service," I told him. "We don't take in strays, especially when they have a home and a mom."

  His lips curled back in a sneer. "She's not my mom. She took me in just so she could make me do her chores for her."

  "Then she's your adopted mom, and you're stuck with her until Child Protection Services says otherwise," I retorted.

  He scoffed. "Like they come here. The only authority here is what Celo says, even if it means people disappearing."

  Vincent and I glanced at each other. Here was some foundation to the bad vibe we got around this place.

  "What does Celo say?" I asked the boy.

  He shrugged. "Anything he wants, and what he most wants is to keep us all here. He says it's to keep us safe, but even if we wanted to leave he won't let us."