After Moonrise

by Gena Showalter P. C. Cast

Clifford. More blood. Blood that matched Lana’s. Not panic? Please! But before she could work up a good shout, she heard a floorboard creak. Lana, she thought, already running. Levi grabbed her by the arm and jerked her into his body. He placed a finger on her lips, hushing her.

  He reached for a gun that he no longer carried, and probably couldn’t carry, now that his mind had accepted his new reality, frowned, then shoved her behind him.

  “For once, I will protect you,” he growled.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “What you doing here?” Harper heard Lana shout. “Where Harper is? If she hurt, I kill! I kill you dead!”

  She nearly fainted from relief. “No need to protect me from Lana.” She sprang forward and wrapped her friend in her arms.

  “Harper!” Lana hugged her back. “I so happy to see you.”

  “Me, too. I missed you, you overgrown pain in the butt.”

  “Missed you, too, my little garden gnome.”

  They laughed and hugged a thousand more times, and Harper breathed her friend in. Hints of sawdust, with an overlying fragrance of jasmine, Lana’s favorite scent, wafted from her.

  When they finally parted, Harper looked her friend over, checking for injuries but finding none. Lana had dyed her hair black, with no hint of red. Pretty, but… She frowned. Something was wrong. Something was…off, but what, she couldn’t quite figure out.

  Does it matter? Here was her friend, appearing healthy, whole and safe. And, for the first time in weeks, relaxed. There were no dark circles of exhaustion and guilt under her eyes, no hollows from grief in her cheeks.

  “What have you been doing?” Harper demanded.

  “Thinking.” Lana nibbled on her bottom lip and shifted from one foot to the other. She wore a black top and baggy black pants, with combat boots on her feet. “Planning.”

  “Planning what? And why are you walking around in combat boots?” Lana believed high heels were a feminine staple, and constantly complained about Harper’s refusal to decorate her feet as “the good Lord intended.”

  A shrug of one seemingly delicate shoulder. “I was going to come to you today.” Gone was the heaviest part of her accent, her emotions now under control.

  “Planning what?” she insisted.

  “Just a minute, princess. How’d you sneak in and out without detection?” Levi demanded of Lana.

  Her friend snorted. “As if I could not spot the guard dog out there. Child’s play.”

  He was the next to snort. “Well, it wasn’t smart to come to your own house to hide out.”

  Lana waved away his words. “So how you be?” she asked Harper, eyeing her up and down. Perhaps her emotions weren’t quite under control yet.

  “I’m good.” Thanks to Levi. “Learned a lot these past few days, most of it disturbing, but I’m surprisingly good.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise. But what about you? You took off without a word and—”

  “Unfair!” A stomp of Lana’s foot. “I left a note and—”

  “—I wasn’t yet done with the painting. Now I am and—”

  “—told you not to worry. I can take care of myself and I was so afraid my coworkers would turn on you if I stuck around, thinking you would hurt me—”

  “—I know I wasn’t predicting the future when I painted you, only giving voice to my own fears.”

  Silence.

  “Holidays are gonna be fun,” Levi muttered.

  Harper tried not to smile. “Listen. I wasn’t painting you, Lana. I was painting me.”

  Lana had been trying not to smile, as well, but now frowned, looking as sad as she had for the past few weeks. “You know, don’t you? About yourself?”

  Before Harper could reply, Levi came up behind her and cupped the back of her neck. He applied a bit of pressure, and she glanced over at him. Leaning down, he placed the gentlest of kisses on her lips. There was something in his gaze, a sadness that mirrored Lana’s maybe, and that disturbed her.

  “I’ll leave you two alone, let you talk.”

  “Thank you,” she said, wanting to ask him what thoughts danced through his head but knowing he wouldn’t answer in front of an audience.

  “Shout if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  He gave her another kiss, and Lana made gagging sounds. He flipped her off before he walked away.

  Lana wiggled her eyebrows. “I knew he was into you, but wow, you worked superfast.”

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks, spreading all the way to her collarbone. “I really like him,” she admitted.

  “You should. He’s sexy.”

  “And smart.”

  “And sexy.”

  “And protective.”

  “And sexy.”

  “And within hearing distance,” he called from outside. “The window is open, and you two aren’t exactly quiet.”

  The heat in her cheeks intensified, but then Lana laughed and she followed suit, and it felt so good to find humor in something, she just went with it. They laughed until they were doubled over. If she’d been alive, she might have peed herself.

  When they finished, Lana led her to the couch and eased down. Harper sat beside her, suddenly curious about why she didn’t ghost through the material. Or was she really hovering, her mind showing her only what she wanted to see?

  Lana hooked a lock of hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I just, I didn’t know what else to do, and I know, that’s no excuse. If I could go back… Anyway, seeing you every day, knowing you were dead, knowing what you were about to remember, knowing what you suffered was my fault…I was breaking down and I didn’t want to be the cause of any more of your pain.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault!”

  “I left you at gallery to make hookup. I should have stayed put, should have walked to car with you.”

  “Cliff was working with the killer. He set me up, drugged me. And if they hadn’t gotten me that night, they would have gotten me another. I’m glad you weren’t there. If they’d taken you, too…” A shudder rocked her entire body.

  “I know about Cliff,” Lana whispered. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I went to gallery to talk to him.”

  “What!”

  “I tell you what happened in a minute. Right now, you have to tell me what was done to you. The details were kept out of the news, and I have to know.”

  No, that wasn’t information she would ever share with Lana. Her friend might want to know, perhaps hoping the details were not as bad as she imagined, but she didn’t need to know. Knowing wouldn’t help her, would only hurt and torment her. “I’m still in the process of remembering,” she said, and that was the truth. She remembered most, but not all.

  A barely perceptible nod. “When I discover you missing, I panic. That so was not like you. I went to police, but they say you were probably with someone. I say I know you better than that. They say give it twenty-four hours. So I wait, asking around the area but no one had seen or heard anything and Cliff…that slime! He said he thought he heard you mention going to bar to celebrate, which I thought was odd, but I now know he was sending police in the wrong direction.”

  Harper stayed quiet, sensing her friend needed to purge these details from her mind.

  “And then you show up here, as if nothing is wrong, but I knew truth. I could tell what you were. Knew you’d died. I’m so sorry.” The tears fell in earnest.

  Lana had cried just like that when Harper came home all those weeks ago. She remembered that day. Lana had taken one look at her and burst into great big sobs. Her knees had collapsed, and Harper hadn’t known what was wrong. All she’d known was that her friend had left with a man—she’d thought it was the next day after the gallery showing—and feared Lana had been raped.

  But Lana had assured her that while the man had turned out to be a jerk, he hadn’t harmed her.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Harper said.

  “Sometimes people don’
t know what they are, that they are d-dead, and you did not. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, could barely face the fact for myself. So I pretend all is normal, fine, and I know, I know, I shouldn’t have. I should have told the truth then, too, but then you gravitate toward a building I’d had to watch many times in the past while on the job, and I knew you were close to answer, so I couldn’t let you go without me.”

  “So you moved in with a bunch of spirits, inside a dump, knowing your coworkers could be watching your every move.”

  More nibbling on her bottom lip, another nod. “If they had thought you were a danger to me or anyone else, they would have tried to force you to move on. I didn’t want them any more involved in your life than they already were, and so I left you and sent you to Tulsa. I thought answers would help you move on under your own steam, knew that leaving on your own would be far better for you, but I also couldn’t stand to see you go. I am sorry,” she said again.

  “You are the craziest, sweetest friend anyone has ever had, you know that? I love you so much, and I forgive you for keeping secrets.”

  “Hold that thought,” Lana said, shifting guiltily. “I have to tell you something else.”

  Harper moaned. Could she withstand something else? “What?”

  Lana licked her lips. “Just that I…love you.”

  Oh. Well. Good. “But that stops today,” Harper said sternly. She even wagged a finger in Lana’s face. “Not the loving part, but the throwing away your life for me part. You did nothing wrong. You are not responsible for what happened to me, and you have to stop punishing yourself. And don’t try to deny you were punishing yourself. I watch Dr. Phil so, of course, I know my psychology.”

  Lana peered down at her lap, where her fingers were wringing together. “Well, I have to tell you something else, too. It’s about my future....”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She told her friend about Topper’s threat. “We’ve got a plan to find his accomplice before the accomplice finds you.”

  Lana smiled and rubbed her hands together. “I hope he does send someone after me.”

  “You are not going to put yourself in danger, do you hear me?”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “Can, too.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Can.”

  Annnd the slap fight began. They smacked on each other’s hands as if they were only three years old. But this was par for the course with them, and so familiar Harper was soon laughing again.

  Levi appeared in the entryway, glaring down at them. “Seriously?” he said. “This is how two grown women conduct themselves?”

  Harper stuck her tongue out at him.

  His lips pursed. “You’ll have to excuse us, Lana.” Bending down, he hefted Harper over his shoulder, so that she hung over him like a sack of potatoes.

  “Wait,” Lana said. “I have to tell—”

  “No, you don’t. Which way is your room, Harper?”

  “I’ll never tell!”

  “That way,” Lana the traitor said, pointing.

  “Thank you,” Levi replied.

  “No need. I’ll demand some sort of payment one day.”

  Harper tried not to giggle. This was almost…normal. Well, what a normal family would be like, anyway, she thought. Teasing one another, helping one another. And she knew that’s what Levi was doing right now. Helping both her and Lana. They’d discussed some heavy topics, were both highly emotional right now and needed a break. This was his way of providing one without making it obvious.

  I think I might love him.

  Once inside the bedroom, he kicked the door shut with his foot and tossed Harper on the bed. Just as the couch had been solid, the bed was solid and she bounced up and down. She didn’t have time to catch her breath, because he was on her by the time she hit the mattress the second time, pinning her down with his muscled weight.

  Eyes of jade-green bore into her, past clothes, past skin, past bone and into the heart of her. “You’re a good friend,” he said, his tone gruff.

  “So is she.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the one who went to hell and back.”

  She didn’t have to tell him what had been done to her; he’d seen. He knew firsthand. “Make me forget,” she whispered, “if only for a little while.”

  “I will.” And, oh, did he.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  At eight o’clock sharp, Levi, Harper and Lana strode into the King’s Landing apartment, where Peterson and Harrowitz waited on the couch. Now that his spiritual eyes were open, so to speak, Levi could see the place as it really was. A death dungeon.

  The furniture was dirty, ratty and not fit for the streets. Dilapidated boards had been pulled from the floor and there were holes in the ceiling. There was a window, but it was boarded up and spray-painted with gang signs. Yeah. This was the place he remembered raiding on the worst of his drug busts.

  Malevolence practically dripped in the air, a darkness, a dankness that stuck to your skin, something you would never be able to wash off. Every so often, the walls rattled, the floor shook, dust pluming the air.

  How could Peterson and Harrowitz stand to come here? How could Lana have stood to live here?

  Lana. He’d listened to her conversation with Harper, and had fallen the rest of the way in love with Harper. Yeah. Love. He hadn’t realized it, had even denied it, but he’d already been well on his way.

  He loved the stubborn little baggage with all that he was. There was no denying so real a truth, not any longer. They were bonded in the most elemental of ways. He’d seen her abused body laid out on a slab. He’d died to avenge her. To protect others, yeah, that, too, but the bulk of his rage had stemmed from what had been done to her, so fragile-looking a female.

  Then he’d met her and discovered the teasing smile and the sad frown, the confidence and the worries, the absolute love she had for those she trusted. He wanted to be the man she trusted, now and always.

  And if they left this life, so be it. Everyone left at some point. He wasn’t going to let the fear of losing her stop him from, well, living.

  How did she feel about him? he wondered. Needing to touch her, he wound his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, as she liked to do, her softness the perfect contrast to the hard line of his body.

  “Who is this?” Lana demanded.

  “The rescue squad. Glad you could finally make it,” Peterson grumbled. She leaned forward to dig through a black case.

  “Finally?” Harper snorted. “We’re right on time.”

  Lana looked Peterson up and down, studying her as if she were under a microscope. When she spoke, however, she directed the words to Harper. “I thought you say ‘that jerk Harrowitz’ was man. He looks a little womanish to me.”

  Levi had to press his lips together to cut off his laugh.

  Even Harrowitz experienced a twitch at the corner of his mouth, his first ever sign of amusement.

  Peterson ran her tongue over her teeth. “Har, har. As if you don’t recognize my voice, Lana Bo Bana. Good job with the painting,” she said to Harper. “You took a face like Lana’s and actually made it pretty.”

  “Will you two stop?” Harper said. “I’m currently in shock because Lana actually lived here for several weeks, without dying from some flesh-eating bacteria.” She must see the truth, as well.

  “I know! You so owe me.”

  “So, Lana,” Peterson said, looking the girl over. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been—”

  “Enough chitchat,” Levi interjected. He knew what Peterson was going to say. Had figured it out back at the house, and that was the real reason he’d left the two girls alone. But Lana hadn’t confessed what had happened to her, and he wasn’t going to spill for her. At least, not yet.

  Harper had claimed to want nothing to do with secrets, but when Lana had tried to admit the truth, she’d stopped her.

  After Topper was taken care of, Levi would tell
her. Harper deserved to know the truth, but he didn’t want her distracted by it right now. He just wanted her safe.

  “Why are we here, Peterson?” he added. “To discuss our feelings or the case you’ve got for us?”

  Peterson blinked rapidly, as if trying to jump-start her brain. Harrowitz finally took things into his own hands and grabbed several sheets of paper from the case, placing them in her lap.

  “Okay, yes, well,” she said, and there was that sad smile again, coming out to play. Bingo. She’d just figured it out. “Well, that girl, the one who popped in and out of here and told you some guy was coming for you? She was Topper’s first victim.”

  Breath caught in Harper’s throat as her hand fluttered over her heart, where sympathy had to be welling. While she had a viper’s tongue, she had a cotton-candy heart.

  Knowing the case as he did, Levi said, “Gloria Topper,” pieces suddenly fitting together. “His sister.” He’d seen pictures of her. Should have realized the truth before now, but his faulty memory hadn’t let him.

  “Yes. Though no one linked him to the crime until the OKPD busted into his home and found pieces of her remains. A few years ago, she disappeared from her college campus. Since her death she’s freaked out several humans,” Peterson said, “caused trouble in the city, destroyed an entire building.” Her gaze pinned Harper in place as she spoke that last one. “A few days ago, someone spotted her, followed her here and asked After Moonrise to intervene. OKC was all set to act, but I interceded and took over. I’m sweet like that.”

  “You want us to help you get rid of her,” Harper said. “To force her to move on.”

  “Yes, again.”

  “No,” Harper said, not really surprising him. “I don’t care who she’s related to, she was hurt. Of course she’s had a hard time adjusting.”

  Uh-oh. Harper had just decided to protect another female.

  Peterson rolled her eyes. “This girl is causing trouble, hurting people, threatening people. She must be stopped. If you can’t—”

  The entire building shook, the dust suddenly so thick Peterson and Harrowitz had to cough to breathe.

  “If you want our help with the brother, you’ll help us with the sister,” Peterson said when she calmed. “Because, if we don’t send her packing, someone else will, and we deserve the bonus, no one else. Callous of me? Maybe. But unlike you, I still have bills to pay, and I am doing the world a favor. Besides, she’ll be better off with the memory of her suffering no longer tormenting her.”