Moon Shadow (Vampire for Hire Book 11)

by J. R. Rain

  Now, I was really sick. “What do you mean, slowly?”

  “Their blood is highly valued, Sam. The children are drained, usually of every drop. The blood of Hermes Trismegistus can increase a vampire’s power considerably, and often for quite a long time after.”

  “Then why drain them slowly? Why kill them at all?” My words were coming in short gasps. The thing that had lain hidden just below my subconscious was creeping up, as the pieces were falling into place.

  “Because most vampires are afraid of them. Afraid of what they will become. Afraid that other Light Warriors will come searching for them, and we have, when possible. Better to do away with them as soon as possible. That is, after capturing all their magically-enriched blood.”

  I pressed my cold palm against my cold forehead. I continued pacing, continued ignoring the increasingly urgent hissing from behind me.

  “Why do your books call to me?” I said irritably.

  “They call to her, Sam.”

  I nodded. I should have known that.

  “It is a rare day that I allow, pardon me, someone of your kind into this room. The books, and the demons sealed within many, are understandably excited.”

  I nodded, my mind already back onto Luke. “You say they are drained slowly. How slowly?”

  “The process, from what we understand, usually takes a week.”

  Which might explain why Johnny had shown up seven days after his disappearance, drained of all blood. Of course, he had also been partially consumed by, from all appearances, a lake monster. He could have bled out through his many gaping wounds... or he could have been bled out before.

  Jesus. I continued pacing, now running my hands through my hair.

  “Yes, the first boy,” said Max, clearly followed my train of thought. “His connection to Hermes was not as strong, the silver serpent merely a thread; indeed, he might not have made a very good alchemist, but a vampire wouldn’t have cared. To a vampire, the boy would still have been a prize. And two such boys in the same small city, almost unheard of.”

  “And why didn’t you get to them first?” I said, turning on the Librarian, who was watching me closely from behind the desk.

  “We were unaware of them, Sam. Some children slip through the system, so to speak. Those we find, we protect.”

  “Do all go to your school?”

  “Only those who have the most promise.”

  “And the others?”

  “We do what we can to protect them. Often for the rest of their lives. We give them talismans to protect them. We watch over them often. Of course, if your son or daughter chooses to join us, they won’t need such protection. They will be safe with us. Indeed, someday they will be providing the protection for others.”

  “And continuing the fight.”

  He bowed slightly, not taking his eyes off me. “The battle has been won, Sam. We see ourselves as guardians.”

  “They’re just kids.”

  “Of course, Sam. Some enter our school at young ages. Some when they are nearing adulthood. We tailor their education and training for their needs and goals.”

  “Or your needs and goals.”

  He nodded once. “Maybe a little of both.”

  I resumed pacing. I could not wrap my brain around my kids going away to some secret school for alchemy training. I paused, took some deep breaths.

  Finally, still bent over and breathing evenly, I turned my head and said, “So, more than likely—at this very minute—Luke is being drained dry by a vampire who knows what he is.”

  “Or something.”

  “By one of those in-between things you were talking about?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Luke has been missing for four days.”

  “He has, at best, a few days, depending how quickly the draining process is. The body can only withstand so much loss of blood. You have some idea where he is, I see.”

  “Some idea.”

  “Will you be needing some assistance?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I have my own one-wolf army.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  I was at home in my office, sitting with Allison.

  The door was closed and she had a shield of silence around us. At least, that’s what I called it. The silence, of course, only pertained to telepathy. Anyone with ears to hear could have overheard our conversation. Hence, the closed door. Most important, Tammy was in her room, watching TV. It was Friday afternoon. I’d just returned from my meeting with Kingsley and the Librarian, and, it was safe to say, my world had been rocked by the information revealed to me. By both of them. I had relayed such information to Allison, because she was my bestie, even if she herself was still closed off to me, which, in hindsight, wasn’t so terrible. In fact, I rather enjoyed not slipping in and out of someone else’s thoughts. Other people’s thoughts were messy and often infused with depression, sadness, hopelessness, or, in the case of most men, perversion bordering on the criminal.

  “So, now we’re dealing with Frankensteins, too?” she said.

  “I’m afraid so. But, to be politically correct, Frankenstein was the mad scientist who created the monster. Hence, Frankenstein’s monster. Or, in this case, Lichtenstein’s monsters.”

  “Fine, whatever, and when did you start using the word ‘hence’?”

  I shrugged. “I hang out with a lot of really old people.”

  She shook her head. Yes, she could still dip into my thoughts. It just wasn’t a two-way street, which was fine with me, for now. She said, “And there’s, like, ninety of these things out there?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And Franklin is one?”

  “He is, yes.”

  “And just when I thought my world couldn’t get any more rocked.”

  I knew the feeling. We were both drinking steaming hot breve lattes with cream, because breve lattes have no equal. Anthony was at the gym, boxing his heart out and, I suspected, bonding with old Jacky in ways that were both sweet and profound, ways I didn’t need to be part of, but heartily approved. My sister would pick him up for me. My sister knew that tonight was going to be a busy night for me.

  “Are you sure you don’t want my help, Sam? I mean, this thing is off the charts strong, according to Kingsley.”

  “Where there’s a will,” I said.

  “Kingsley’s got quite the will,” she said, nodding, although that hadn’t been entirely what I was talking about. She smiled, and her eyes might have swum a little dreamily. My witch friend, to this day, still had a healthy crush on my boyfriend. Hard not to—that is, if you liked the powerful, hulking, muscle-bound, hairy types. And, apparently, a lot of women did.

  “Besides,” I added, “tonight might be the night.”

  She knew what I meant: the night of my daughter’s impending fatal accident. Just thinking those words and seeing the images all over again, was just too damn terrible to deal with. No mother should ever, ever have to see what I have seen.

  The truth was, it should have been me who watched over my daughter. Except that I knew Allison was perfectly, wonderfully, powerfully capable of helping, especially with the help of her witchy friends (who, from what I understood, would be swinging by tonight to help out, and, yes, one of them was a ghost, and, yes, my life is really damn weird). Besides, she and I had a plan. And if all worked out well, I would be there to protect my daughter. But first...

  First, I had to find Luke.

  Regarding Tammy, we had already decided that the dream needed to play out, once and for all, and that my daughter needed to be saved, perhaps even at the last minute. I knew she could be saved, of course. I had saved someone else in a similar situation. Of course, the person I had saved hadn’t been my daughter, and I hadn’t had an emotional connection. And this all just sucked the big one, but what could I do? There was a missing kid being bled dry by a bastard in Lake Elsinore—undoubtedly, a vampire who was now hopped up on powerful, magical, hermetic blood, all guarded by t
he biggest, baddest, son-of-a-bitch I’d ever seen. Perhaps many such creatures. All while dreams of my daughter’s impending death were growing more and more detailed.

  “We will watch her, Sam. Closely.”

  “This needs to play out,” I said. “I’m sure of it. If not tonight, it will be another night or another night. Or another.”

  “We can’t stop it too soon, I get it.”

  She nodded, sipping her coffee. My friend, a part-time personal trainer and full-time psychic telephone operator, was looking her age these days. No, she wasn’t immortal. Most witches weren’t. I had known her now for a few years, getting closer to her each year, and I had watched her life blossom into the legendary. She, along with her two witchy sisters—who formed a powerful triad—had had some wicked close calls recently. Emphasis on wicked. She was forging her own path, a very magical path. One that I knew would lead her on to many adventures, and many more close calls.

  “Hopefully, not too many close calls,” she said. “Close calls suck.”

  “Just be careful out there,” I said.

  “You, too, Sam Moon.”

  I smiled and finished my coffee and got up. I went around the desk and gave her the biggest hug I could without breaking her scapula. And then, I headed out of the office and to my daughter’s bedroom.

  Chapter Forty-five

  I poked my head into her room.

  “Hi, sweetie.”

  She looked up from her phone and might have smiled. Her room, I noticed, was a pigsty. Choose your battles, I told myself, knowing full well that my daughter was in my head, even as I came into her room.

  “Mind if I come in?” I asked.

  “You’re already in.”

  “Funny how that works. Mind if I sit next to you?”

  “Kinda.”

  “Scootch over.”

  “Grrr.”

  “Did you just growl at me?”

  “Mom, I’m talking to someone.”

  “No, you’re texting with someone. You see, the beauty of texting is that it’s not instant.” I snatched her phone in a blink of an eye and tossed it onto her pillow.

  “Hey—”

  “And I’m your mom and we’re going to talk.”

  “You suck,” she said.

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “I’m not talking about blood, Mom,” she said, picking up my playful meaning. “You suck at being a mom.”

  “I’m not going to lie, that kinda hurt.”

  She shrugged, folded her arms under her chest, and looked away. My daughter was fourteen and developing slowly, which was fine by me. I had developed slowly, too, which seemed to keep the boys away. For a bit.

  “But I also know how fourteen-year-old girls are, and I know someday, you are going to regret saying that to me. And someday, you are going to come up from behind me and surprise me with the mother of all hugs and tell me from the bottom of your heart that you are sorry for saying such mean things to me. You will probably also tell me that I’m the best mother in the world, and that you are lucky to have me. So, my future self says thank you, sweetie. That means a lot to me.”

  “Are you quite done?”

  “Not by a mile.”

  “Grrreat.”

  “Don’t roll your r’s at me.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “I’m improbable, you mean.”

  “Mom, are you trying to be irritating?”

  “I irritate you when I’m not trying, so I might as well do it right. To do it for realz, as they say. And that’s with a ‘z’, I might add.”

  “This isn’t happening, and you can’t keep me locked up in here all night, Mom. That’s not, you know, cool.”

  “And since when have I ever been cool? Actually, don’t answer that.”

  And, shocker of all shockers, that elicited a grin from her and the smallest of giggles.

  “You don’t think I’m very cool, huh?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  “But I can fly.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Talos can fly. You just sort of, you know, remote control him.”

  “But I can beat up most men.”

  “So can Rhonda Rousey.”

  “But I don’t, you know, age.”

  “Neither does Tom Cruise.”

  Tom Cruise a vampire? Stranger things had happened. “So, I really am a dork to you?”

  “Of course, Mom. All moms are dorks, except for Angelina Jolie. Now she’s cool.”

  “Oh, brother. Who were you texting?”

  “A friend.”

  “Which friend?”

  She shrugged. “Just a friend.”

  “I hereby ban you from shrugging ever again.”

  Tammy shook her head, rolled her eyes, and shrugged. “You can’t stop me from rolling my shoulders, Mom. And you can’t stop me from having friends, either.”

  I knew where she was going with that. And she knew that I knew where she was going with that. “Those visions are real, Tammy. They are not dreams, and they are not made up. They do not exist for me to punish you or ground you or keep you locked up in this house.”

  “Or in Kingsley’s cell,” she added.

  “I’m sorry about that, baby. Kingsley and I were just thinking out loud. You have to understand how desperate I am to keep you safe.”

  “I know, Mommy,” she said, and, I’ll admit, I will never, ever get tired of hearing her call me Mommy. “I mean Mom.”

  “Too late,” I said. “You said it!”

  I got the teenage trifecta: sigh, eye roll and head shake.

  “I heard you and Aunt Allie talking. I understand.”

  “You understand what? And since when have you heard Aunt Allie and I talking?”

  She giggled. “Her shield isn’t as strong as she thinks it is.”

  Now I sighed and shook my head. Jesus, just how powerful was my daughter? I took her hand and she let me. I held it tight, and she let me do that, too. “You understand what, baby?”

  “I understand that I have to see this through. The accident.”

  I took in some air. “And these friends of yours?”

  “I met them inside the movies the other day. They’re Sophia’s cousins.”

  “And they drive?”

  She nodded.

  “Are they the ones I see in the vision?”

  She nodded again.

  “They’re going to pick you up tonight, aren’t they?”

  “Nothing is planned for sure,” she said, looking at me, her eyes wet and searching my face, “but I am beginning to think that they will. I’m scared.”

  I was about to say she didn’t have to go with them, but that would go directly against what Allie and I had been discussing, and now with Tammy, too. I could tear out the engine of the car and lock the cousins away, too. But I knew that, at some point in time, she would get in a car with them. Whether tonight or another night. It was going to happen. It was seemingly pre-ordained. Or pre-destined. The question was: how much did the dream have to play out before I was allowed to step in? My only other experience with this was the girl at the bus stop. I had saved her right before the bus had crashed, in true superhero fashion. But had the girl gone on to suffer a fatal bus accident, say, a week from then? I didn’t know. I hadn’t known her name, and I hadn’t followed up. I suspected, though, that the majority of the dream, as I saw it, had to play out. The pieces of the puzzle had to come together, to be, once and for all, disbanded. It did no use to disband them too soon, for there were still mysterious forces at work bringing them together.

  “You’re making my head hurt, Mommy—Mom.”

  “I’m sorry, and I heard that. You still don’t have to go with them, baby.”

  “I think I do.”

  “Allison will be nearby. She will have some friends with her, too. They will help her.”

  “And you will be looking for the boy the bad man is hurting?”

  “Yes. But I will be with you, in an instant, no matte
r what.”

  She nodded. She knew, better than anyone, the extent of my new powers. After all, she could relive my memories at will. Indeed, very little was hidden from her probing mind. I was, in a sense, an open book to her.

  “You promise you will save me, Mommy?”

  Her question broke me up more than I was expecting. “Of course, baby.”

  “But you need to find the missing boy, too.”

  “I do.”

  “They are bleeding him to death.”

  “I think so, yes.”

  She nodded and looked down and didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, so I returned her phone to them, and they clasped around it comfortingly. I then clasped my own hands around her comfortingly, too. She lay her head on my shoulder, and I felt her shuddering every few seconds. With fear, I suspected. Cold fear. She didn’t want to die tonight. I didn’t bother fighting my tears.

  “This sucks, Mom,” my daughter said after a while.

  “I know. But look at the bright side.”

  “What bright side?”

  “You’re not going to die tonight, baby.”

  “You swear?”

  “I swear.”

  Chapter Forty-six

  We were at a restaurant in Lake Elsinore called Ravioli’s, the same restaurant where Detective Oster had spotted the present-day owner of the castle.

  Admittedly, I wasn’t very hungry and was way too anxious to eat anything, but Kingsley had convinced me that there wasn’t much we could do until the sun went down, anyway. He’d gotten off work early to make the trek out to Elsinore with me. Good man, considering the thousands he’d given up. Then again, I liked to think time with me was priceless. At least to the man who loves me.

  Unlike vampires and their constant need for blood, Kingsley was a testament that twenty-nine days out of thirty, werewolves ate just like regular folk. Boy, did they. In Kingsley’s case, four regular folk.

  Anyway, I was sitting at what had to be Lake Elsinore’s nicest restaurant, surrounded by good people talking idly, as if this was just another fine evening, as if a teenage girl wasn’t about to get into a fatal car accident, and as if a local boy wasn’t presently being bled dry for his magical, alchemical blood.