Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  Her mother was going to be pissed, and she didn’t look forward to telling Nasi Heather was lost for the moment. And if the Veritatis confirmed her abilities? The little human was likely facing a death sentence.

  Banging the heels of her hands against the steering wheel, she screamed out her frustration. How the hell had they gotten into the apartment? Were they already inside and waiting? And why hadn’t her senses picked them up?

  Taking two deep breaths, she closed her eyes, and counted to twenty. The emotions eased to a more manageable level, and Iroida shook her head. This was not the time to lose her temper. She needed to think of how to get Heather back.

  Boone. She could ask him if he was willing to work together to find Heather. Though he might not be amenable considering she’d kicked his knee out. In her two millennia of life, men never took well to women kicking their arse. But in this case, it was necessary. Deciding on her course of action, she drove to the hotel, and tried to find where Boone was staying. Charming the young man at the front desk was easy, all it took was a little show of cleavage.

  Standing in front of his door, she raised a hand, ready to tap the loose fist against the cheap wood. What would she say? Hey, I lost the target, now I need your sexy ass to help me? She kind of doubted that work, even if she lost the sexy ass part.

  The door swung open, and she was left standing in a rather awkward position, her fist raised next to thin air. Lowering it, she smiled. “I, uh, well, I apologize for the knee.”

  He crossed his arms, leaned against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other. The posture emphasized his lean muscles, the length of his body, the sheer power curled in every inch. His dark hair shone in the early sun, and his blue eyes turned into an ocean color she wanted to dip in.

  Her body hummed, and a peculiar heavy feeling pooled low in her belly. Swallowing, she stepped back, blinking. Something was wrong with her. She wanted to jump on him, wrap her legs around his waist, and … she had no idea what, but thought it might have something to do with the clenching sensation in her groin.

  None of her training had prepped her for this. Her instinct to leave, and quickly, nearly overwhelmed every sense. But Heather’s face popped into the front of her brain, and she grabbed onto the tenuous control with both hands and her entire pool of willpower. “I’m here because Heather has been taken, by the Veritatis.”

  Boone straightened, his bright eyes going nearly black. “When?”

  “Less than ten minutes ago.” She watched his expression change, fascinated. He was more human than descendant, though she sensed his power. Unlike many of the Iudex, he was emotionally charged. She thought it was likely he saw Heather’s kidnapping as if the innocent was blood, family. And he’d react accordingly. She’d see in a few moments.

  He left her standing in the doorway. She heard him rustling around the room, the sound of leather, of fabric against fabric, the soft sounds of metal, the snick of loading the chamber of a semi-auto. Rooted to the spot, her eyes closed, she could hear him unzip his jeans, the light sound of the denim hitting the floor, the gentle noise of flesh sliding into leather pants.

  Iroida turned from the doorway, and made it look as if she was holding sentry. In reality, she needed to get her racing heart and panting under some kind of control. She’d seen hundreds of men in the nude over her millennia on Earth and didn’t understand why he affected her natural breathing process.

  The parking lot of the little Mom and Pop establishment held three cars, and one truck with Louisiana plates. She assumed the eighties style Chevy was Boone’s. It reminded her of every redneck’s dream truck from that era. She had a lot of fun during the eighties. She’d even owned a similar truck.

  For whatever reason, her gaze held onto a nineties Crown Victoria. The paint faded in places on the roof and hood, a dent over one wheel well, and she could smell burning oil. Trotting to the vehicle, she glanced around the parking lot, looking for the driver. The ticking noise from the engine, and the heat of the hood, said whomever it belonged to had either arrived just before her, or as she was talking to Boone.

  The door closing snagged her attention and she turned in time to see Boone drop a big military style duffel bag into the back of the truck. Their eyes met over the thirty-foot distance, and her heart hammered. He gave her one nod, and she sprinted for her car. She’d given up her truck in the nineties, and currently drove one of the new Dodge Demons. She’d waited nearly a year for it to roll off the production line, in matte midnight blue, matching rims, and dark tinted windows. The seats were fitted with five-point belts, she had very little in the way of luxury. She’d wanted the power, the speed, the ability to take turns like she was on rails, not cushy seats, big screens, or flashy logos. And her Demon delivered.

  Boone pointed his truck to Heather’s apartment five minutes away. They parked across the street, and she exited her vehicle. Standing next to his truck, arms crossed, she waited. He was using binoculars, and she had no idea why. But she also didn’t know his abilities. Best to keep her mouth shut. And ignore the spice laden scent of man coming from his truck.

  “They left tracks, and the one who took her went up.” He put the binoculars into a case and put an elbow on the open window. “I can track them, but I’ll need your help.”

  “What do you need?” she faced him, keeping a blank expression. She hoped her eyes gave nothing away.

  “What is your ability?”

  She frowned, not sure why he needed to know. “I’m a hunter.”

  He grinned, his perfect white teeth contrasted against his sun darkened skin. “A tracker and a hunter. Sweetheart, we’ll get the little girl back in no time.”

  Chapter Three

  Boone

  He had no clue if she could see how much control he was having to exert. Three inches shorter than he, she’d be a perfect match. He could almost feel her lithe, athletic body against his. Her curves weren’t generous, though there was no mistaking she was a woman.

  He’d heard her walk to this door, and initially thought it was the guy driving the Crown Vic, whom he suspected was a drug dealer. Yanking open the door, there Iroida stood, mouth a perfect “O” of surprise, eyes wide, and looking as if unsure of herself. The vulnerability in that flash of a moment had tugged on something, and he’d barely withheld pulling her close and offering reassurances.

  Then she’d disclosed Heather had been kidnapped by the very people they’d needed to keep her away from. He’d left Iroida with Heather, knowing she was watching as Heather did the normal after work routine. The Guardian could do all the hard lifting as far as he was concerned.

  But now they were across from the apartment, her muscle car next to his old truck. She stood by his door, smelling of woman, and summer nights he’d never forget.

  He was a tracker. It was his specialty, the ability to see things others couldn’t. Like the fact that whomever took Heather had repelled off the roof, going into her window, grabbing her, and climbing up the rope with her on his shoulders. The tracks on the building going down were lighter than the ones that dug in going up. They glowed in the sunlight to his eyes. What he couldn’t do was tell which set of footprints from the apartment belonged to them. Three were heavy. One was an obese woman’s footsteps. The other two were men, both laden with some kind of burden. They went in opposite directions.

  She was a hunter. Hot damn. It meant that if he could track the right direction, Iroida could take them down. And he could take Heather, give her over to the Iudex, and safety.

  “There’s two sets of tracks, and I’m not sure which one is the guy with Heather. They go in opposite directions. Can your instinct tell you which one?” he leaned out the truck window, watching as emotions flew across her face, her brown eyes dark even in the sun. It reminded him of the dark bayous in Louisiana. If not careful, a person could be permanently lost in the depths.

  She met his gaze, and his heart stopped. The air grew hot and sizzled along his skin. Goosebumps rose, and he was
held in place by the force of her personality.

  He’d slept with many women over the decades of his existence, but no woman had ever caused this kind of reaction after the turn. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

  Breaking the connection, he turned back to the apartment building.

  “Maybe. Show me the possible tracks,” her voice broke though his concentration, and he noted a change in the tone. He couldn’t say what it was, but his body reacted to it. He shifted in his seat, hoping she didn’t notice.

  “Let’s go take a look, see if we can’t figure out the right trail.” He pulled his t-shirt out of the leather pants. There was no need for her to see.

  Heading to the front entrance, he walked each set of tracks, knowing she watched. From the footsteps, Boone knew one man was approximately five – ten, the other around six – one. The taller one walked on the balls of his feet, the other heel to toe.

  “Do the shorter steps.” Iroida had watched his feet and legs. Her eyes narrowed, she squatted, forearms draped across her knees, hair falling forward and hiding her features.

  He went over the steps a second time, making the steps faster, and standing as if he was carrying a person of hundred seventeen pounds in his arms.

  “It’s the other set. Heather was five – eight, and though thin, would have been a hard burden to balance. His steps indicate his burden didn’t shift. The other footsteps show wavering, a constant attempt to steady it.” She stood, rubbing both palms against the top of her thighs. She stretched, and with arms straight up, she twisted, giving him glimpses of a flat stomach, and unblemished skin.

  “I agree. They go to the parking deck.” He pointed, “I’ll meet you over there.” She nodded, and he watched her jog in the direction he’d indicated. Coming or going, the woman was a damn vision. But then, she was the daughter of gods.

  Shaking it off, Boone crossed to his truck and jumped in. He drove to meet her, watching as her steps changed from following directions to hunting. The length of her steps shortened, her feet deliberately placed, a lighter movement. Her upper body twisted sideways, making her a smaller target.

  She wasn’t a hunter of animals, but of people. She was the predator.

  Parking the truck, he got out and joined her as she turned and made her way steadily upwards. He moved in front and followed the trail. They glowed a light blue in the shadows of the parking garage, though he knew it was due to the personality of the one who’d made the prints. He was a true believer in his cause. It was part of his gift and not something he advertised. Others tended to get upset if you could read them by the trail they left.

  The trail disappeared at a far parking spot. Cars weren’t living, so left no trail unless it was in the snow, or something organic.

  “The size of the spot indicates a vehicle smaller than a sedan. Likely something small and cheap.” Boone spoke in a low tone, eyes roaming the walls. He’d hoped for cameras but couldn’t find any. They’d have to look at any cameras from nearby businesses. “Come on, I have a place we can go to and search for videos of them.”

  She frowned at him, rolling her eyes. “No need. We’ve already got what we need.” She turned, and he realized she was going to walk away.

  “How? Did you look at the parking space and it whispered its secrets?” He hadn’t been able to stop his sarcasm. He wasn’t used to being blown off.

  Turning, he saw her smile. “Oh, sweetness, you are definitely eye candy of the highest caliber. But not known for brains, are you?” She pointed at the parking space, “Look in the shadows, sweetie.”

  Boone snorted, but turned. She pointed at the front license plate sitting near the concrete. “How do you know it belongs to the car he used?”

  “If you’ll notice, it unsettled the dirt of the concrete, and recently. As Heather was taken, the wind had kicked up, meaning if the plate had been here for longer than four hours, it would have been covered in dust. It’s not.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m the hunter, not the tracker. And when prey is wounded, it leaves clues.”

  Boone put both hands on his hips and stared at the evidence. Damned if she wasn’t right. A smidge of admiration slid along his veins, though he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Do you have the means to run it?” He wasn’t the best at admitting he missed something.

  She laughed, deep and throaty. “I’m the Praesidio, of course I do.

  Chapter Four

  Iroida

  Iroida held in the rolling laughter trying to burst out of her chest. He’d been so intent on impressing her that he’d missed a big clue. Then to ask if she could do something as simple as run a plate? Damn, he was having a bad day.

  Standing at the opening, leaning out so the cell phone could get the best signal, she sent a pic of the plate to her little sister. Regiis was an IT guru and would probably have an answer in less than a minute.

  Ignoring the expectant looks from Boone, she counted to thirty. As she’d known, Regiis sent the info.

  “Heather was taken in a vehicle owned by one Robert Ferrin. He’s a known member of the Veritatis but is currently in prison. Regiis thinks it’s likely to be his younger brother, Jeff, who took Heather. He fits what we think he might look like.” She showed him the DMV picture of Jeff Ferrin. It indicated he was six – one, blond hair, brown eyes, thirty-four.

  “That is definitely helpful. How can we track where he went without cameras?” He gave her an expectant stare.

  “By tracking his phone.” She smiled and left.

  Jogging to the Demon, she laughed. She realized Boone was used to being in charge, the one to find all the answers. She’d cut into his ego. And would likely pay for that. It was worth it.

  Putting her phone in the cradle, she opened the app Regiis created to follow a GPS signal. She waited until Boone’s truck roared out of the garage. Pulling in front of him, she followed the instructions. They’d left Denver and were heading east into the open prairie. She suspected he was running for Kansas.

  Pushing the Demon, she closed in on the indicator of Jeff and Heather’s location. They were ten miles ahead, driving at a steady seventy miles an hour. She and Boone, not far behind, were cruising at one – oh – five. They could catch him in half an hour, if he didn’t do anything stupid. Boone’s truck struggled, made for driving through rough locations, not speeding down the interstate. Its power meant for a different world than the Demon’s. Choosing to jump ahead, Iroida felt the smooth action of the eight-speed transmission as she pushed it to one forty-eight. The freeways weren’t good enough to really push the Hemi to its limit. She took several curves, and then settled in at one twenty. Her gas gauge fell fast, but she was almost where she needed to be to catch Jeff and Heather.

  She saw the small Fiat ahead and let off the accelerator. After a few moments she was four car lengths behind, and cruising at seventy – two. The cell phone buzzed, and she tapped the screen twice.

  “Mile marker four-three-six, I-70 east, west side of Burlington.” She watched as the little Fiat indicated he planned to exit. “I think he’s pulling over to refuel. Which is good, Demmy is a little low herself.” She patted the dash.

  “Let me know, because I’m still five miles back. And one day, I want to drive that car of yours.” He chuckled, the sound echoing slightly.

  “Get your own. The new Hellcat is out.” She grinned. Men always wanted to drive Demmy and were often flummoxed to learn she owned the limited-edition modern muscle car.

  “Far above my pay grade,” he chuckled.

  She appreciated the masculine sound and suppressed the shiver. “You should be okay to catch up and get fuel. He’s going to have a hell of a time if Heather isn’t unconscious.” She tapped the red button.

  She remained two cars behind, knowing the growl of her car made men turn. She wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. The Fiat pulled into a small gas station, and she went to the one a little further down. She looked carefully at the passenger side and noted Heather unconscious in the passenger sea
t.

  She filled the tank, tapping a text to Boone. His ass could figure out the rest, she’d done more than her sisters would have, hell more than she’d done in the past.

  Smiling, she paid, grabbed a bottled water, and left. She drove past the Fiat and returned to going east. She called Regiis and kept an eye on Jeff and Heather via GPS. She knew of a lonely stretch of the interstate that would be perfect to create a quiet ambush and take Heather.

  After calling headquarters and outlining her plans, she settled into the drive. Dub step blared, the bass rattling the windows. She’d been up for forty-eight hours and it was almost time for a four-hour nap. While she and the other Guardians didn’t need eight hours of sleep, they did need at least four hours every two days. Many of her sisters did mimic humanity and slept at least once every twenty-four-hour period, except when on a chase.

  A full body shudder made the car swerve, as several waves of power rolled over her.

  Heather, who wasn’t supposed to come into her power until 2020, had just woke up. Jeff had found her trigger, and she was in the hands of the Veritatis.

  A sliver of cold fear slid down her spine, for the power the woman carried could destroy civilizations. She needed to be eased into it, trained, taught to understand. And here the poor woman was, in the middle of being kidnapped, chased, and in the center of a showdown for her very soul.

  It wasn’t a good day for Heather.

  Chapter Five

  Boone

  The woman had outrun him. He’d pushed his truck to the limit, but it couldn’t keep up with the muscle car. He’d thought she’d help him, and instead… damned if he wasn’t chasing two women.

  The whole situation was like nails on a chalkboard. He’d fallen for it, and that had him grinding his teeth as he looked for the little blue Fiat.