Timeless Moon

by C. T. Adams

  “It is. And what are you going to do about that, anyway? Does Rick even know about you and Raven?”

  Another problem that she’d been neatly avoiding. She sighed heavily. “Even Raven doesn’t know about me and Raven. He barely even knows I exist and I’ve tried to keep it that way. I don’t love Raven. I never have. But I also can’t help but love him.”

  It was her sister’s turn to sigh. “It would be wonderful if we were like true wolves and mated for life every time. But those blasted human genes give us a semblance of free choice, which screws everything up. No, I think you’re going to have to tell him when he arrives with the plane. If it is a one-sided mating, you may be safe enough. He could draw from you, but not you from him. But if it’s a mutual mating you’ll pull power from him instinctively and he’ll become involved in the ritual whether he likes it or not. In your altered state, you won’t be able to control it. You haven’t slept with him have you—unless something’s happened that you haven’t told me about?”

  “No. We’ve never even touched.”

  “Good. Every touch, intimate or not, makes any mating bond tighter. It is why we put mates with the gravely injured. The bond helps them, even in a one-sided mating.”

  “I know. I know. I just wish I knew what to do.”

  “I’m so sorry, Josette. It’s going to be hard for you until this is done, but not as bad as it could be. It’s so very difficult when you love another that isn’t your true mate. I would know.”

  Josette gave a sad smile. Her sister would know, better than most. She was mated to Raphael Ramirez, even bore him twins. But when that relationship ended, she found another, even stronger, relationship with Charles Wingate. That love might not have the “magic” of a mating bond, but it was no less strong or real for the lack.

  Josette shook her head. “It may not be a mutual mating. I can’t be sure. And I don’t know if Rick and I—”

  Amber made a rude noise that translated just fine over the wires. “Oh, don’t even try to deny it. I know you’re still in love with Rick, and he with you.” She paused and the tone of her voice made Josette realize just how difficult the next words were to say. “And…I…I have to apologize to you, grande souer. I knew Rick was alive. But I was sworn to secrecy. That’s no excuse, I know, and I wouldn’t have kept the secret if you’d still been married. But—”

  She knew? All these years and she knew Rick was alive? Josette opened her mouth to spit out a curse, to blister the air with pent-up anger, but then stopped. Was she guilty of any less? How many secrets had she withheld that later caused pain?

  It was easier to just let it go. There was already so much hurt and pain in the air; there was no need to add to it needlessly. “I forgive you, Yvette. I know it must have been hard. Now, the phone is beeping at me, so I’m going to hang up. Tell everyone I’ll be there soon.”

  “Merci, Josette. Bon chance.”

  She pressed the End button and leaned back into the seat. There were so many details, so many things to consider. Raven and Rick had already met, but she had no idea how they were going to respond. And what of Rick? If only she could see clearly what was going to happen, know that he wasn’t going to share Ellen’s or Bruce’s sad fate. She didn’t know if she could stand that. It seemed odd to her that she accepted that her mate, Raven, might die. But the thought of Rick dying when she’d just found him again—

  Whether because she was thinking of him, or for other reasons entirely, the scene outside the window dimmed and a vision played out in her mind—one that filled her with the first feeling of joy she’d felt since learning of Ellen’s death.

  Rick bellied up to the bar. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt tucked into a pair of faded jeans. No gun. No cell phone. No notes. He’d had to leave everything when he ran. It sucked, but he could replace them later. His wallet was in his saddlebags with the motorcycle back at the motel. He could go back for it, eventually. He was a registered guest after all, and no one could connect a wild animal attack with him. They’d either figure Rick’s gun was another one of Harold’s, or that he’d stolen it from the room. But right now the scene was crawling with cops.

  It had been damned difficult sneaking back into the hotel without being noticed. But he couldn’t leave the cards behind, and he’d needed clothes and shoes. So he’d broken in, used an aversion spell, and taken what he needed as quickly as he could.

  It was a fucking nightmare. Without the police and emergency services, he’d have set up a gas explosion to get rid of the evidence. As it was, everything was going to be gone over by the human cops. He was tired, angry, and the jeans he was wearing were too damned tight. They made the deck of cards tucked into his back pocket dig painfully into his backside.

  Thinking of the hotel made him wince inwardly. Ellen was dead. Her mom was dead. Hell, even poor ole Ray was dead. That, at least, hadn’t been his fault.

  The jukebox blared to life, Toby Keith bellowing the words “How do you like me now?” The bartender finished wiping a glass dry, setting it in place next to the others as he walked over to greet the customer.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a Sam Adams if you have it, Bud Light, if you don’t.”

  He dug into the front pocket of the jeans to pull out the cash he’d stolen along with the cards. Peeling a five off of the stack, he set it on the bar before stuffing the rest back and taking his seat on the nearest of the battered vinyl bar stools.

  He spun the stool so that he could watch the couple of good ol’ boys shooting eight ball at one of the two bar boxes at the back of the bar. They were arguing good-naturedly, making bets as to who would win the game.

  The bartender set the beer and a glass onto a coaster, setting the change on the bar next to it. Reaching behind him he turned the radio to the local station just in time to hear a news flash about a multiple homicide and animal attack at the Shooting Star.

  “What the hell?” Everyone in the bar hurried to the windows, straining to see what they could of the action down the street. Rick went right along with them, acting just as surprised and worried as the other men—straining to see what was going on. In the distance ambulance sirens wailed. Rick felt a flicker of worry, but set it aside. No, they were all definitely dead. The ambulances would just be a formality.

  “You wanna head down and see what’s goin’ on?” The blond asked his buddy.

  “Yeah, maybe we should.” He turned, resting his cue against the wall. “We’ll be back in a couple of minutes to let you know what’s up, Ben.”

  “Do that,” the barman replied.

  They loped off, leaving him to stick around, listen to the news. Sooner or later Rick knew his ride would show up. They’d go to Daytona where he’d get to explain how the entire mission had gone to hell.

  Josette jerked her attention back to the present. Apparently, sometime during her vision she’d gotten the car back on the road and had blindly driven toward Pony. A sign indicated that the exit from highway 40 for Pony was one half mile ahead.

  The Shooting Star would probably be crawling with officials for hours. The investigation could go on indefinitely. As motel guests she and Rick would eventually have to check in and be questioned, but they couldn’t take the time now. They had urgent business elsewhere. They would alibi each other and be fine, unlike Ellen and her mother.

  She sighed, the tears finally gone. If she had gone somewhere else, stayed at another hotel, would things have turned out differently? There was no way of knowing and no possibility of going back. She would have saved them if she could. But like so many things right now, she hadn’t seen it coming. Was this what it was like for the rest of humanity? To feel so incredibly helpless, without any reprieve or hope?

  She took the exit, and was caught in slow-moving traffic a uniformed police officer was hand-directing. Looking down the road she saw the dimly lit gravel parking lot of a restaurant and bar. The sign outside read “The Roadhouse,” and there were neon lights advertis
ing brands of beer in each of the small rectangular windows.

  The view from those windows would be exactly what she was passing now, and would match what she’d seen in her vision. She’d found her destination.

  RICK ORDERED ANOTHER beer and a hamburger plate. The pool players hadn’t come back. Most of the other patrons had left as well. It was just him and the bartender. They’d listened to the reports for a few minutes, but when it was announced that there were no survivors, the barman had switched off the station. The echoing silence was deeply disturbing to Rick. He found himself wanting noise, a distraction from the morbid turn of his thoughts. He walked over to the jukebox, slid in a few dollar bills, and began making his selections. Johnny Cash’s version of “Hurt” had just started playing when he heard the crunch of gravel in the parking lot. Seconds later the door opened.

  The scent hit him first as he was turning to see who was coming in. It was her. He froze in mid-motion, unable to move or think. She was okay! Even the ill-fitting shorts and T-shirt she wore couldn’t disguise her.

  She stood in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. He knew he should greet her, say something, but his mouth was too dry to form words. He’d been waiting for this moment, practicing the phrases he would use to win her back. But looking at her he was simply tongue-tied with the fear of rejection.

  Their eyes met across the room, and even through his best shields he felt her sympathy for his pain, and her own deep sorrow. But underlying both emotions was something he hadn’t dared allow himself to hope for. Love.

  She crossed the room in a few rapid steps and pulled him into a fierce embrace. The purse hanging from her left wrist dug into his back, but he didn’t care. His arms closed around her and he buried his face in the soft silk of her hair, breathing in the scent that was uniquely Josette. A shudder passed through him as their combined emotions slammed into him, sweeping away his shielding in their intensity. In that moment the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was no failure, no peril, only the two of them together again.

  She raised her lips to his. The kiss was sweet and gentle, a bare brush of skin, but it burned through his body like a sudden wildfire. He had to fight himself not to crush her to him.

  “I missed you.”

  He ran his nose through her curls and then led her to a table to sit near the window. “I missed you, too. When I saw the tracks, and couldn’t find you—”

  It should have been a little embarrassing, looking like a moonstruck teenager while he stared at her. But the embarrassment faded after a moment. Who the hell cared what the bartender, or anyone else, thought?

  “I heard what happened. I know about Ellen.”

  He flinched as though she’d slapped him. He’d almost rather she had. The pain of his failure at the hotel stung him far worse than any blow.

  She touched his cheek gently. “It wasn’t your fault, Rick. There’s nothing you could have done.”

  He shook his head. He leaned back so that he could look down into her eyes. “You’re wrong.”

  Shaking her head, she sighed. “Sacrificing yourself wouldn’t have saved them. The Movement wouldn’t have left them alive, even if you’d stopped Harold tonight. They were witnesses.”

  His body stiffened. The warm moment of reunion was ruined. She’d meant well, but she didn’t understand. Not really. How could she? His stupidity hadn’t just cost them a witness that could shed light on a threat to their entire race. No, a young Sazi would never turn; would never have children or fly under the moon.

  She stared at him with tears brimming in her eyes and a wounded look on her face, as though she could sense his thoughts. In that moment, he realized she did understand. He could feel it like a fluid wave that lapped against his pores. Her sorrow and pain, for the hundredth, or the thousandth time over the last century. This one tiny death was just one to her. She’d endured many such senseless deaths, while he’d hidden himself away from everything, including the burden she bore without complaint.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Josette said hollowly and he knew it was a lie. But then, seemingly on impulse, she changed her mind. Turning away from the window she shifted in her seat so that she could face him. “Actually, I’m not.” She took a long moment to organize her thoughts. “I’m trying to hold it together, to keep everything under control, but I can’t, Rick. Too much is happening. People keep doing things. The future is changing so fast and I can’t see any of it. People I love are in danger. I need to help them. But how can I when I don’t even know what the hell is going on?”

  “Welcome to what the rest of us live with every day.” Rick’s voice combined dry amusement with honest sympathy. “You’re not Wonder Woman, Bun. You’re doing everything in your power. That’s all you can do. It’s all any of us can do.”

  Now her lip started to tremble. “But…what if it’s not enough?”

  Rick touched her hand, then pulled her arm a little closer. “We’re not gods, Josette. We’re people. We live. We die. We make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes have dire consequences. That’s life. The best we can do is try to honor her death by preventing more of them.”

  “You’re not being very reassuring.”

  “Would you prefer it if I lied to you?”

  Josette gave a wry smile. “Yes, I think maybe I would.”

  They laughed together, and while it didn’t solve anything Rick had to admit he was feeling a little better afterward. It wasn’t his fault Ellen had died. It was Harold’s.

  Josette stood up and walked off without another word, heading down the small back hall that led to the bathrooms. He didn’t bother watching. Instead, when the bartender raised his hand to catch Rick’s attention he went up to the bar to get his food.

  The food smelled good enough to make his mouth water. He hadn’t really been all that hungry when he’d ordered, just figured he needed fuel. But now that it was actually in front of him he realized just how long it had been since he’d had a decent meal.

  Taking his seat again, he started in on the big burger, enjoying the amazing combination of tastes as his teeth crunched into rare meat, lettuce, onion, and the sharp tang of mustard.

  When Josette returned, he gave her a stern glare. “You need to eat to keep your strength up.” He pointed a finger meaningfully at the top entry of the menu still lying on the bartop. “Protein. Lots of protein.”

  Josette rolled her eyes but put a small Gucci bag onto the counter. When she opened the purse Rick saw a brand-new wallet and cell phone. “Yes, sir.” He could smell that she was pleased he was taking an interest, so he just gave a small grunt that always used to make her laugh.

  It did this time, too.

  The bartender came up, wiping down the counter in front of her. “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have the double cheeseburger plate and a tequila sunrise.” She opened the wallet to display an impressive amount of cash. Rick’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  Josette caught the look and laughed. “Catherine called while Raphael was getting everything ready for me. She agreed with him that they should give me everything I needed including enough cash for any contingency.” She grinned and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m fairly sure Raphael was planning to do all that anyway. But he seemed grateful that she agreed.”

  It was a pleasant interlude, and while they knew it couldn’t last, they were determined to enjoy the moment. Rick was almost sorry when it was time to go.

  They stepped out of the bar into a fierce wind that nearly blew the door from Rick’s grasp. The scent of rain was on the air.

  Putting up his shields like a knight donning armor, he began preparing himself for the trouble ahead. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll have to come back to the hotel later.” His voice was suddenly harsh, cold, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

  He followed her across the lot to a newer model white Volvo. She hit the button for the lock. When the beep sounded, he opened the passe
nger door and climbed inside. “We’ve got business to take care of.”

  Josette stood behind the open driver’s door and looked up at the sky, her brow creasing with worry and…something else. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was something between guilt and fear. The wind tore at her hair like claws as she leaned her arms against the roof of the car. “Do you think he’ll be able to fly in this? It’s getting pretty bad. The only way I could make it rain was to make the storm worse.”

  “But I thought you could—” Rick cringed at a particularly loud crack of lightning overhead. “You know…fix it.”

  She snorted. “Make nice weather come and go? No, I can’t control the weather. I just sort of steer it. And I have to be very, very careful. One wrong move could make things worse, cause wind shears, or a tornado in a different place. People could die just because I wanted a sunny day.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I can see your point. But it sure would be nice.”

  “No, it wouldn’t be nice. I don’t want to bring down any more bad luck on this adventure that I already have. I can’t see the future right now. I just can’t risk it. We’re just going to have to wing it.”

  He gave a small, sad smile. “And hope for the best. Can’t forget about the hope.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  THEY’D SWITCHED POSITIONS in the car so that Rick was driving. Josette kept getting flashes like there was going to be a vision, but then it would fade. Still to be safe, she turned over the wheel position and was staring out into the storm, trying to relax her mind and grab onto any vision that happened by. When it came, it sucked her inside completely.

  Amber buried her head on the crook of her elbow where it rested on the white tile surface of the kitchen table. Warm late-afternoon sunshine streamed through the sheer white curtains on the windows, but her mood was bleak as midwinter.

  Nana was dead. She’d done everything she could, poured every ounce of her strength into the old woman. It hadn’t been enough. The old woman’s body simply hadn’t been strong enough. Her magic had shredded itself against the walls that had been erected around it, and when the power grew too great and her body tried to change…Amber’s body shuddered. She was a physician and a healer. She had never thought she would see anything so terrible.