Faery Moon

by P. R. Frost

  I hoped that Gollum loved me enough to break through his vow of nonviolence for that one last mercy.

  Chapter 39

  In 1935 the Valley of Fire became Nevada’s first state park.

  WE ARE THE GUARDIANS of this sacred place. We cannot allow you murdeous ways to desecrate valley.

  “Self-defense is not murder.” This could get dicey. I have to choose my words carefully or lose everything.

  If I die, Tess dies. I cannot allow that to happen to my babe. She’s mine and deserves the best imp possible.

  That’s me. One way or another, I’m going to get back to her.

  “I killed those who attacked me. That is allowed.”

  They had a lawful warrant for your execution.

  “They didn’t tell me that. They just jumped me. I fought back the only way I could, as would you, or any self-respecting imp.”

  You did not stop there.

  A cigar would really help me think right now. When did I ever let that stop me?

  “Good imps have to give in to the bloodlust. That’s how we continue to fight demons when all looks lost.”

  Bloodlust must be controlled.

  “But that goes against the definition of bloodlust. We lose control and keep swinging until there is no one left to swing at ”

  Even the innocent?

  There’s that “I” word. Gods, I hate it when people throw that at me.

  “When I am the Celestial Blade, Tess controls me. I can only kill those she decides must die.”

  You had not yet bonded with your Warrior when you murdered five innocent imps, three of them your siblings.

  “Yeah, well, they were standing around watching, and cheering on my vicious siblings with their compounded bloodlust. One brother with a grudge fed his hate to another and another. They let that anger compound, bouncing back and forth until it became a living entity that would not rest until they killed someone. The watchers fed that bloodlust as well. They weren’t totally innocent.”

  Silence.

  This is it. This is the moment when these Guardians decide my fate.

  “Tess, no, you can’t climb that rock.” Gollum lifted me down from where I clung to the sandstone precariously. The soft surface crumbled when I put my weight on it.

  “I’ve got to. Can’t you see, that’s Scrap’s face up there.” I pointed at the round hay bale that had taken on a full face twisted into a grimace, more than just the suggestion of eyes, nose, and mouth. Intelligence dimmed by pain peeked out from those cavernous eyes.

  “I don’t know Scrap like you do, Tess. All I see is eroded red sandstone. I can’t let you risk yourself on a treacherous climb. If the rangers find you up there, we’ll be in big trouble. Bigger trouble than from the burned-out car and staying past closing. Maybe in jail so we can’t make tonight’s deadline with the moon.” He sounded so practical, and so very concerned.

  I knew he stopped me because it was the best thing. But if Scrap were somehow trapped inside that formation . . .

  I collapsed in a heap at the base, sobbing and pounding out my frustration. I could not banish the emptiness in my gut where Scrap used to be. That annoying, preening, sarcastic, cigar-smoking brat! Not even Gollum’s love could fill that void.

  “Come back to me, Scrap. Please come back to me.”

  Do you consider the deaths of the bystanders necessary.?

  “Well, when you put it that way... in a way, yeah. I needed to teach all of Imp Haven that I’m not just a useless runt. I’m someone to contend with. I count. I’m just as important as they are.”

  Did you not prove that when you killed your attackers?

  “Well, yeah. I guess.”

  Can you bring yourself to regret those deaths?

  “Can I have a cigar while I think about it?”

  Instantly, the darkness grows thicker. I feel my cute little bottom sagging deeper and deeper into the hell this nothingness becomes. My hearts slow. My thoughts drift.

  Who knows how long I’ve been here. Who knows how long I must stay. No light, no sound. This is worse than the diamond prison of the rogue imp.

  Tess must be worried. I ache all over that my actions cause her pain. I regret that if I die, she must die. She deserves better.

  “I do regret that I needlessly killed.” Maybe not for the reasons these Guardians wanted to hear, but if in any way I have done something that will come back to hurt my dahling Tess, then yes, I do regret it.

  For once I keep my thoughts to myself and my voice silent. I owe Tess that much.

  You have much left to .give. You andgour Warrior have a destiny to fulfill Remember the darkness within you and learn from it.

  The imp within the diamond didn’t have that chance.

  “Tess, someone’s coming. I can see a dust trail on the road. We have to flag them down or we’ll never get out of here in time to rescue the faery dancers.” Gollum tugged at my shoulder.

  He could have picked me up and carried me. I think he knew that I had to come of my own volition. Abandoning Scrap had to be my decision alone.

  I wasn’t ready to do that. But I had to. I had to trust that if he ever broke free, he’d find me.

  Maybe when I came back to open the portal, I could get him out.

  The rising sun glimmered against the diamond in the ring.

  I twisted it, trying to get it off. I hated it. I hated that it was the last artifact of power Scrap gave me. Perhaps stealing it from Gregbaum had caused him to get trapped here in the Valley of Fire.

  The ring wouldn’t come off. It just kept turning around and around my finger.

  I glanced up, looking for inspiration.

  Elongated streams of smoke with oval, faceless heads and triangular bodies that trailed off into thin wisps seeped from the rock. Just like in the petroglyphs. They flew around and around me, swooping to include me in their widening spiral around the Goblin Rock.

  I ducked, but kept staring at them, entranced by their awesome beauty.

  Then in clouds of black, copper, sage, and deep purple they separated to the far corners of the park.

  Or was that just dawn light catching a mist?

  Hiya, babe. Miss me? Scrap landed on my shoulder with a poof of displaced air.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do young man.” My tremendous relief came out in anger. I couldn’t help it.

  Later, babe. Right now you’ve got some explaining to do to those rangers looking over the mess of a car. What’d you do to it anyway?

  “Those black faeries channeled lightning into it because you weren’t here to help me defeat them.” I scrambled to my feet and hastened after Gollum.

  Don’t suppose he’s got a cigar in that backpack . . .

  I rolled my eyes. The almost sensation of Scrap on my shoulder felt good. I wanted to hug him, smother him in kisses, and spank his bottom all at the same time.

  “Say, how come you lost all your warts?”

  He hung his head in humiliation and faded until all I could see of him was his little pug nose and the outline of his bat-wing ears.

  “You’ll have plenty of opportunity to earn them back. Maybe tonight,” I reassured him.

  He brightened at that.

  “You can go get a cigar if you want.”

  Nah, not yet. I don’t want to leave you in this valley alone. There’s all kinds of nasties hanging around.

  “Like those forms that preceded you out of the rock formation?”

  He looked back over his shoulder, wrapping his tail around my neck in a near choke hold.

  Actually those are the good guys. The Guardians of all that is sacred within the valley.

  I didn’t quite hear him mutter something else. Something like “I’m one of the bad guys.”

  By the time I caught up with Gollum, he’d already explained with heated gestures how we got trapped in the park overnight.

  “A gang of five teens were climbing the rocks. We stopped to explain to them why they shouldn’t and they took o
ffense. They torched the car! And then the storm hit and the few streetlights went out. We were trapped here. All night.”

  “You really need better security,” I added. A trick I’d learned from schoolchildren when I taught: always make the accuser look guiltier than you are.

  “Cell phones?” the fair-haired young man asked. His tanned skin flushed and he looked embarrassed.

  “Out here?” I pulled mine out of my pocket and showed him the half-full battery and no bars of signal. Actually, I was a bit surprised to find it intact.

  “I hope you took full insurance on the rental,” said the second ranger, the same dark-haired woman I’d talked to at the Visitor Center yesterday. She nodded her head slightly in the direction of the Goblin Rock, acknowledging that I’d found it.

  She probably knew something about it. And maybe something about the misty forms that had streamed out and away from it.

  “Of course,” Gollum replied to the insurance question, pretending affront. From the glint in his eye, I guessed he enjoyed playing this role.

  A forest green SUV pulled up behind the beige park service pickup. Breven Sancroix leaned out of the driver’s side window. “Thought you two might need a ride when you didn’t show last night. Flash floods closed a bunch of roads. I came as soon as they bulldozed them free of debris.”

  I saw no sign of Fortitude. Scrap’s pug nose worked overtime, seeking the big imp.

  Now that’s one of the bad guys. Fortitude is so bad he doesn’t dare enter the valley, Scrap said. He shifted around so that his back was to the newcomer. I dare you to ask Mr. Holier Than Thou Sancroix why his dark-skinned imp is waiting for him, safely back at the entrance.

  Chapter 40

  There is a one in thirty-five chance that rain will fall in Las Vegas on any given day.

  “HOW DID YOU KNOW we needed a ride?”I asked Sancroix as soon as he put his truck in gear and headed toward Las Vegas. Scrap occupied my right shoulder, looking out the window and away from our driver.

  Gollum and his monster backpack stretched across the back seat. He half reclined with his feet up and the backpack in his lap, as if he didn’t trust it in the rear compartment.

  “Fortitude told me you were in trouble.” Sancroix stared straight ahead, seemingly concentrating on the road.

  Small construction vehicles with front loaders scooped gravel and sand from the pavement where washes and arroyos had overflowed their banks. We might not have been able to get out of the park last night, even with four wheel drive.

  A mountain of paperwork awaited us, from both the rental agency and the park.

  “I hope you have a story to tell the rental agency,” Sancroix said.

  “Did Fortitude tell you about our battle?”

  “Yeah. He also told me your imp deserted you. No wonder you two had to go rogue. I’m surprised the imps let him live to adulthood.”

  Angry words of defense jumped to my lips. I swallowed them. No sense aggravating this man when he’d come to our rescue.

  “How’d the imp allow your mother to marry a demon?” he asked when we reached the freeway and he could engage cruise control. “That should have brought a full herd of them down on you.”

  I looked over my shoulder to Gollum in the back seat. No comment from him, just a shrug of his shoulders.

  “I didn’t let her do anything. She eloped. I don’t know how you work, but we aren’t in Citadels. We have to appear to work within the law. Darren Estevez was a prominent and wealthy citizen. He paid taxes and, as far as I know, voted regularly. I couldn’t just kill him and leave the body for someone else to clean up. As it was, I spent most of a day in jail, accused of his murder.” And missed an important combat challenge because of it.

  “How’d you know about Estevez?” Gollum finally asked. He sounded as if he didn’t really care. I could tell by the way his eyes flicked about behind his glasses, that he thought furiously, weighing and assessing information.

  “What he really wants to know is why you don’t have an archivist assigned to you,” I added.

  “Had one. Didn’t like the guy.” Sancroix closed his mouth with a snap. No more discussion on that subject.

  I looked to Gollum again for more information.

  Another shrug. He didn’t know any more about that than I did. Then he froze, mouth half open. “Gramps’ brother,” he mouthed.

  His grimace told me that man had not died comfortably in bed, at home, surrounded by his loved ones.

  “Mom’s marriage to Darren only lasted thirty-six hours. He’s dead now. We don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  “Don’t we? Do you know how much damage a Damiri demon can do in thirty-six hours?”

  I had a good idea. For weeks I wondered if Mom would ever recover. She seemed to have found her feet along with her new career. With a little help from a faery. I figured I owed Mickey and his clan a lot, even if my vows to the Sisterhood didn’t compel me to rescue the dancers.

  Somehow we filled the hour-long drive with boring and mundane conversation. Mostly about the storm and power outages in the city.

  First thing I did back at the hotel was book the room for three extra nights. Gollum winked at me and did not engage his room beyond noon.

  “Do we have time for a shower?” I asked.

  “A quick one. We’ve got to connect with Mickey and you have to have a long conversation with Scrap about that ring.”

  And a longer conversation with my mom. Just to talk and share and make sure she was all right off on her own. But it wasn’t even ten in the morning. She sang last night until after two, so she wouldn’t be up yet.

  I’d take that shower first.

  Well, I can see I’m not needed for a few moments—make that an hour. I’ve got some errands to run. Mickey needs to know where and when to find us.

  I need to know if Lady Lucia knows that Tess is her great, great, multigreat granddaughter. And if she does, is she going to tell Tess?

  If she does know. there is more than a little bit of kink in her, screwing Donovan, the same man who lusts after her descendant. (I’m tired of figuring the number of greats in that relationship.)

  I can’t allow that. I may have atoned for some of the darkness in my soul. But when it comes to my babe, I’ll kill and kill again to protect her. Even from her own ancestor.

  I pop in on Lady Lucia’s parlor. Empty. Dirty glasses, spilled snack trays, scattered used napkins all over the place. Cleaning services haven’t arrived yet.

  So I creep silently, and as invisibly as possible, toward the back of the suite. At the top of the marble stairs, I hear muted voices. A quick check leads me down to the covered patio.

  The contessa wears a black caftan that covers her from neck to ankle. Only the very tips of her fingers reach beyond the heavily embroidered sleeves. A huge black straw hat with a cartwheel of a brim shelters her head and face. Smoky dark glasses with lenses that cover her from above her sculpted eyebrows to her cheekbone add to the protection.

  I can smell sunscreen with an spf of about 200 on her. It almost masks the odor of stale blood. She fed last night.

  The bored driver of the hearse, not the wizened boy who served drinks at the party—he’s asleep in his coffin—attends her at her elbow, placing sheaves of papers on the round table before her. He’s as covered as she is, and the table’s umbrella shades them both.

  I don’t think I could pick up an aura on either of them from the numbers of layers between them and the sun. But something is leaking from Lady Lucia. Something warm and gentle that seems totally alien to her vampire image.

  I sneak a little closer, very slowly, keeping to the darkest of the numerous shadows. At last, I’m on top of the hat and peek at the framed drawing that captures nearly all of Lucia’s attention. Her fingers trace the image of a child’s face. A blond child dressed in antique breeches, shirt, and short coat. Her son.

  More than that, I see an image of a very young Tess creeping through the pencil lines.
/>   Oh, yeah, Lucia knows that Tess is her relative. She knows and she cherishes.

  Feeling good and safe from her, I flit off to my other errands.

  The shower took longer than we planned since we took it together. By the light of day we delighted in relearning each other’s body through the exquisite mediums of soap and water. For the first time in a long time, I felt cherished and protected without any agenda except mutual affection. I nestled my head in the hollow of his chest and just listened to the rhythm of his heart while hot water poured over us.

  By the time we finished, room service had arrived with full breakfasts for us both, including beer and OJ for Scrap. He really did know how to leave us alone when we needed privacy.

  Caught up with Mickey, he announced around a huge cigar. He flicked ash out the open window where he perched.

  “What does Mickey have to say?” I ground out the cigar and pointed him toward nourishment.

  Strangely obedient, he refrained from complaining about his lost cigar.

  I stared at him, wondering what had brought about this abrupt attitude adjustment.

  Mickey says that Gregbaum’s magic net around the dormitory is pretty strong hoodoo. Partly faery in origin—which explains Junior’s participation—partly something else he can’t figure out. No way to break it without knowing everything Gregbaum and Junior know about magic. But he thinks you can break the spell around the hotel with the ring. Scrap slurped up half his breakfast in one long pull on a straw.

  I relayed that message to Gollum. He dressed and munched bacon while he thought long and hard. “I need to call Gramps. I also need to get someone to cover my classes tomorrow. Do you suppose MoonFeather would talk about something Wiccan that can pass as Anthro 101?” He fished in his overnight bag. “Damn, I don’t have any spare batteries for the cell phone.”

  I tossed him mine. He took it to his laptop to look up phone numbers, still working on breakfast and pulling on his shirt at the same time.

  Easily, we fell into a familiar routine. I had my tasks, he had his. We worked comfortably together.