Blame It on the Moon

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Blame It on the Moon Page 9

by Livia Quinn


  “Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Campbell.”

  “Mystiq, please. It sounded quite serious.”

  “I brought a note for you from your Aunt Phoebe.” I pulled the letter Phoebe had given me out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  Mystiq’s eyes scanned the paper quickly, and then she said soberly, “I see. Please come in, Sheriff. I need to gather some things.” Seeing the direction of my gaze, she said, “If you’d like some coffee there’s some really excellent special dark roast in that vacuum bottle behind the counter.”

  She left me in the middle of a collection of tables and chairs, her restaurant in-progress. There was an old counter about twenty-five feet long that looked like it had come out of a courtroom. I ran my hand across the smooth mahogany, and sipped the black coffee, feeling the kick of caffeine as I took the first swallow.

  “I really lucked up on that counter. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Turning, I said, “It is.” Mystiq had gotten the drop on me, which concerned me. Apparently, I needed more than caffeine. Pouring a second large cup and said, “If you’re ready, we need to go.” I led Mystiq to my cruiser and we turned onto the lake road, lights flashing.

  My phone rang and Mystiq smiled as the strains of Katy Perry’s latest hit filled the car. I rolled my eyes toward the healer. ”My daughter loves to mess with my business ring tone.” I had just changed it to Conor’s favorite song, ”Battle cry”, for inspiration.

  “Lang here.” I peered at the display. It read Knights Production.

  “Jack. It’s Ridge. I heard you got the job as sheriff in Lacassine Parish. Sorry I haven’t had time to get over there. With the opening of Knights Studios and the consortium changeover, it’s been crazy. Buffy said it was urgent.” I was grateful for Ridge getting to the point.

  “Urgent isn’t a strong enough word, Ridge, though crazy suits.” I glanced at Mystiq who tilted her head and then surprised me by inserting her pinky fingers into her ears. I smiled, shook my head and mouthed it’s okay.

  Her hands dropped to her lap. I asked, ”Do you remember what we talked about a few years back, the connections you had to that para-military group? The ones with the special, er…”

  “Abilities. I do. What we could do five years ago was light-years behind what’s available now, though…” The airway went silent.

  “Ridge? You still there?”

  “Yes.” A deep groan came through the headset as Ridge apparently struggled with his reply. “Jack, I remember you as a pretty straight arrow. Black and white—hell, you didn’t even like the sci-fi channel if I recall…”

  A short harsh laugh broke free. “That man is dead, Ridge. I imagine I could enlighten you about a few things these days. Let’s just cut to the chase because I’m on a serious time crunch here. You still have some of those bionic soldiers on your emergency contact list?”

  “I do. Tell me what you’re dealing with.”

  When I was done, Ridge whistled. “Damn, Jack, you weren’t kidding. Hold on.” I heard him asking Buffy to hand him his other phone. Then he returned. “Hmm, some of the guys are too far away to do you any good, but I know a few that can be on the ground by noon, if not before.”

  I looked at my watch. 9:30. “That’s better than I anticipated, Ridge, though as far as I know it might all be over by then, and not in a good way. I’ll let you know how it all comes out.”

  “Oh, you won’t need to. I plan to come along. If you think I’d miss an opportunity to see some Paramortals in action, you’ve ejected your brain from the cockpit, son. Did you ever get shucked of that witch—what was her name—Georgette?”

  “Close enough. I did, but she showed up here a couple of days ago. Two nightmares at a time, please.”

  Ridge laughed. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll get eaten by some un-friendlies.”

  “I couldn’t be that lucky. Gotta go, Ridge. I’ll see you soon. And thanks!”

  Jack

  Wait. There’s a book with answers in it?

  Mystiq asked, “So the situation is much worse than just the finrir’s sickness?”

  I wondered how much information I could trust Mystiq with, but if she grew up knowing Phoebe and knew about shifters, she must be okay. “Are you familiar with the term Chaos?”

  Mystiq’s eyes narrowed and she frowned, apparently not privy to everything. “I read somewhere—”

  “Wait!” I held up my hand. “There’s a book with answers in it?”

  “No, Sheriff, I gave you the wrong idea. There are annals of history available to some of us.”

  Yeah, I knew I wasn’t included in that group. But who was?

  She continued, “Quite frankly, since the last reference to that term was 400 years ago, I wasn’t quite sure it was real.”

  “Oh, it’s real alright. It’s the reason our people are sick.”

  Her concern was plain. “I thought it was just the finrir.” She kept calling him “the finrir” and for some reason it irritated me. “He has a name.”

  Why was I defending Dylan? It wasn’t like we were best friends. It was just that it seemed as if the Paramortals were always being referred to as the Tempestaeries, the djinn, the Dinnshencha. They were people with real concerns, jobs, families like everyone else, except they weren’t just people. Even to myself, I was sounding as if I belonged with them more every day. Had finding out Jordie’s fate made me more sensitive?

  Her eyes softened and she sighed, “I’m sorry, Sheriff. Of course he has a name, but it’s wise not to use it outside of Destiny. Please, tell me more about this ‘Chaos’. As I recall, it’s also termed the Para-moon or coincidence, correct? When did it start exactly?”

  “Officially, at moonrise last night, around seven. Phoebe said it was like a full out battle last time but that was because there was more lead-time to prepare. This time both sides were caught off guard by the power down’s early arrival. They’d expected their powers to turn off like a water faucet at moonrise, but instead, it started gradually several hours before that. I’m hoping that means they’ll return early as well.”

  Phoebe says it’s stronger this time, like a double full coincidence, and some Paramortals are sicker than they’d expected. I told Mystiq about Montana and described the effects the Para-moon had had on each of the others. “Tempe and Aurora seemed to have been hit the hardest. Then Dylan became ill. I thought I—well…Tempe made it through the night.”

  “And Phoebe thinks it’s because a Naga saved her.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “I’m familiar with what a Naga is. Go on.”

  “This snake bearer apparently used some kind of spell. Anyway, whatever it or she did, Phoebe thinks it’s like an antibiotic fighting the effects of the power-down on her system.”

  Mystiq listened intently while Jack explained, then asked, “What about the others and the finrir?”

  “Tempe was actually up walking this morning though she was very weak. But then, Phoebe took Dylan and Tempe to Aurora’s because my daughter, who works for Aurora called, worried that Aurora was dying. Phoebe tried to… I don’t know…share the snake medicine with Aurora, but Dylan jumped between them. It didn’t work as planned, but Phoebe thinks Aurora would’ve died without trying it. Now, Aurora and Tempe are finally getting better but Dylan is getting progressively worse. It’s as if…” I shook my head.

  “What? As if what, Sheriff?” She wasn’t even using my name.

  “I’m just a detective with pretty good adaptive reasoning. The way Tempe and Aurora are improving and Dylan isn’t makes me think… is it possible to lose your Paramortality? I mean if he’s still a Paramortal, why wouldn’t he be getting stronger as the Para-moon loses its influence?”

  Mystiq’s eyes focused on things not seen—her healing knowledge? Her experience? I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel like a game show clock while she worked through what I’d asked. When she reached her conclusion, her expression was one of empathy.

 
“Oh, it’s not good news is it? You’re not going to be able to fix this with an herbal smoothie.”

  “I need to get some answers and assess his status before I can prescribe a treatment. I don’t think the snake charm or Phoebe’s actions were responsible for his gradual decline. As to your question about losing Paramortality, that’s one we’ll have to ask Aunt Phee about.”

  I passed the city limit sign three miles from Harmony and asked, “Did you grow up with Tempe?”

  “No, my parents moved to New York when I was eleven, about the time Dutch…”

  “… Faked his death?” I couldn’t disguise the irritation in my voice. It got to me that their plan hurt Tempe for so many years. Jordie and I wanted to make it up to her and in so doing, maybe we would be happy as well.

  She sighed. “Yes. I lost touch with Aunt Phee after that. The only time I saw her was when she was visiting great-auntie Delia. After the farm was left to me last year, I came home. I’ve kept up with everyone’s lives though.”

  My eyes nearly crossed at the obvious reference again, to everyone but Tempe being in the loop of her own life. Even River had known the truth.

  “I’d like to kick a few Paramortal Asses,” I mumbled. But it didn’t look like that was in the cards. Mystiq diplomatically ignored my comment.

  Jack

  What happened to my zapper?

  I pulled into the driveway at Harmony and helped Mystiq get her duffel out of the car. I noticed she kept a big green scrapbook hugged to her chest. Phoebe rushed forward as soon as we entered and embraced Mystiq. I studied them closely; the tight hug and relieved expressions on both faces. Then I caught sight of Tempe and Aurora, both sitting up on the sofa bed.

  “Tempe.” I knelt at her side, surprised to feel tears of relief in my eyes. I buried my face in her lush hair, which was a pastel version of its brilliant multicolored glory. It would soon be back to normal, I thought, as her familiar scent washed over me, ocean breezes, humidity and sulfur clung to her. I’d never been so happy to anticipate more lightning strikes in my life.

  I gently pushed her back on the pillow. Her smile was serene, her eyes like a calm blue sky, but wet like my own. “I’m okay, Jack. Aurora is going to be, too.” Her expression clouded, “But Dyl—”

  “Ssh, Sweetheart. The cavalry is here.” He nodded toward Mystiq. Tempe frowned. Don’t tell me she didn’t know about Mystiq and Phoebe’s relationship. Damn them all.

  Tempe watched the two women but she didn’t seem upset like I expected. “I know her from somewhere.” She pressed the hand I wasn’t gripping to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember. Phoebe led Mystiq over to the sofa bed. “You know my daughter, Tempe. When you were both children—”

  “I remember,” Tempe said, smiling weakly up at Mystiq. “Mysti right? We went on a couple field trips together. When was that? Second grade?”

  “First.” Mystiq hugged Tempe and shared the memory with her. “They kicked us off the bus as I recall. You were zapping that hunky Marshall Kelly on the butt, and the driver thought I was in on it.”

  Tempe laughed. It settled like warm honey in my gut. “You instigated it. You moved to… New York, right?”

  “Yes, but I’m back for good. I think you delivered a package a couple months ago to Campbell Glen and didn’t even recognize me. I’ve missed you, Tempe.” She tapped Tempe’s hand between hers.

  “And do you know Aurora?” Tempe asked.

  Mystiq simply nodded and asked, “How are you both feeling?”

  Aurora said, “I’m feeling better, but I wish we were back to full strength right now.” She glanced over at Dylan.

  “Me too,” said Tempe. “I couldn’t zap a flea right now. Please, see what you can do for Dylan.” She scooted onto the side of the bed and I took her arm to give her a boost. She wavered for a second but then waved me off, moving closer to where Mystiq bent over Dylan.

  As she checked Dylan’s condition, she said, “As I told Jack earlier, I doubt the snake charm passing through him had anything to do with his present condition. I imagine you were already seeing a steady progression of his ‘illness’.”

  Phoebe nodded. To me, Dylan looked dead already, much like River had looked in the cabin, with his ashy, pasty skin. How could someone as dark as Dylan be so pale? For a second I felt regret because even though Dylan and I had gotten off on the wrong foot, I respected the man’s integrity and related to his chosen profession, as well as his Special Forces background.

  If we’d met under different circumstances I was sure we’d have been comrades, if not friends. In a fight, you’d want Dylan on your side. He’d seemed like a man whose strength and strong personality would never waver, and yet both traits had succumbed to the Para-moon’s influence.

  Mystiq’s hands flowed from Dylan’s forehead to his chest and all the way to his ankles, explaining about the connection between the mind, the heart, and the Qi with familiar terms like chakras and not-so-familiar ones like mesocasms.

  “Aurora, do you and Phoebe know Dylan’s background?”

  Aurora looked at Phoebe who gave a slight nod.

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. Oh, this should be good.

  Chapter 14

  Tempe

  Conception involves a transfer—

  I sucked in a breath dreading to hear things I didn’t want to have to adjust to. Hadn’t I adjusted enough already? I’d come to suspect that Phoebe and Dylan had been more than just friends. I didn’t want to believe the worst but…

  Phoebe seemed to be gathering her courage to give me bad news. Shootfire. “I knew it, you and Dylan had something going on, in the past, didn’t you? Zeus’ ungodly offspring! Don’t tell me Dylan is my…that I’ve been…” I was panting and sputtering, but I was afraid I’d just stumbled onto a horrible truth. “I’m going to kill—”

  “Tempe, what do you take me for?” Phoebe placed her hands on her hips.

  “Honestly, Mother. I’m never sure. So what is it with Dylan then?”

  Phoebe sighed. “It’s not what you think, Tempest. I’ve been faithful to your father. Though I don’t know if he could say the same. djinn are notoriously promiscuous...” and off she went on another tangent.

  “Mother…” I glared at her.

  “Well, you’re living in a dream world—”

  “Just answer her question, Phoebe,” Jack said from against the wall with a scowl.

  She dropped her hands and faced me, calmly this time. “Dylan made it possible for Dutch and me to have children. It had been centuries since I’d been pregnant.”

  Okayyy… several pieces of information here, if I delved into that statement. Did I have an ancient brother or sister out there somewhere? Did I really want to know?

  She went on. “Conception takes trust and in our case, a shifter like Dylan, to accomplish. It involves a transfer—”

  Zeus! “Stop right there.” I said, putting my hands over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut to purge the image from my brain. I heard Jack chuckle, but I shot him a glare and he wiped a hand over his handsome face.

  I was definitely feeling better because all I really wanted to do right now was look at him, have him hold me… but, I turned back to Phoebe. “Just give me the bottom line. It sounds like you’re still my mother, but is Dutch still my pa—father?”

  Phoebe gave that little martyr sigh again. “Don’t sound so disappointed, on both counts, Tempest. Nothing has changed. We are your parents. We’ve always loved you and done our best to keep you safe.” Her voice grew tired and soft, her eyes sad. “You know that, don’t you?”

  For the first time in my life I heard vulnerability in Phoebe’s voice and when our eyes connected I knew it was no ploy to get sympathy or an effort to manipulate me. “My head is there, Mother, but my heart is taking a little more time to heal.”

  When Phoebe’s brows dipped, I said, “You can’t expect me to welcome you with open arms just because you showed up, finally. You were
right here in Destiny and you shunned us publicly and privately. You let everyone including us think you didn’t care and…” My voice cracked, “…didn’t want us, for nineteen years. That’s a long time when you’re growing up alone, especially at River’s age.”

  Phoebe nodded. No excuses, no explanations. Her eyes when they met mine were sincere and once again, honest. “Please don’t shut me out, Tempe,” she asked.

  I swallowed, “I’m not. I’m just…”

  She squeezed my hand, “I understand, baby. You need time.” In a softer voice, she said, “I hope we have it.” She turned back to Dylan.

  Mystiq was focusing intently on Phoebe’s story. When Phoebe was done she lifted Dylan’s lids, inspected them then turned around. “Jack asked me a very interesting question, Phee. Can a Paramortal lose his Paramortality?”

  I broke in, “If a Paramortal lost his immortality wouldn’t he be dead?” I groaned as all eyes went to Dylan.

  Phoebe said, “Any immortal can lose his or her supernatural power but the cause and the result would be as individual as their species. Remember, immortality is not connected to Paramortality. A being is a Paramortal due to the pact made by their ancestors, either by blood or spell.”

  Mystiq seemed to be considering this. She asked Aurora, “Since Dylan is not getting better, it could be indicating that his finrir is dying, regardless of the connection. Do either of you know how his father died?”

  Phoebe said, “He was the only Paramortal who died during the last Para-moon.”

  “Let me try to access Dylan’s family history.” Aurora placed her hand on Dylan’s head and her lids drifted closed. The circles under her eyes had not gone away even though her smooth youthful complexion had returned. She inhaled and seemed to put herself into some kind of trance. Then her eyes flew open, flaring with anger. “His father was poisoned.” She looked at my mother. “Phoebe, did you know?”

 

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