Snow Covered Moon

by L M Adams

  “Now come in the house. The vamp has been going on and on about needing to go shopping, and if Peter mentions underwear to me again I’m going to attempt to conjure some from thin air.” He smiles down at me and tugs my arm until I start walking.

  Today is going to be a great day, I just know it.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  New beginnings Old endings

  I’m quiet and subdued as we go about eating the wonderful breakfast Jack fixes us all. I taste everything, it’s delicious, but I find no pleasure in it. I start to just push the food around on my plate until Jack comes over and takes it from me, telling me to go get a shower.

  The shower helps. I feel a little better after having some time to myself. I go to my bedroom thinking I’ll find Jack, but he’s not in the room. I can’t help but feel happy at having the space.

  I unbraid my hair and let it fall around my face. I pick out a black lace bra and panties. The bra strap irritates my shoulder a little but it isn’t anything I can’t handle. I pull on a plain white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. I stuff my feet into my boots and pull on a dark, almost black purple leather jacket that I’d saved for two months to buy. I turn on the glamour to hide my horns and make my way down the stairs dressed and ready to face the day.

  Lucien is standing in the living room, already dressed. I hang my head not even looking at him and rush to the kitchen.

  We’ve already agreed to take two cars. Jack is going to drive me and him to the stores in the City Proper; he’d deemed the fringe stores as inadequate. I try to always buy in the fringe. But I need clothes to seduce a Vampire Blood Mistress. We’ll have to shop in the city, I hadn’t even argued.

  Peter and Lucien are going to the CNAE headquarters. I did have to argue with Peter about that. The full moon is tomorrow night. He isn’t going anywhere without one of us with him.

  Minx and Tabari are visiting the Coven shops; Minx actually volunteered to go. I want Tabari to rest. It’s obvious he needs it, last night had taken a lot out of him. He’d given me a lot so that I could function today. The man deserves a few hours of peace, but he wouldn’t hear it.

  He only replied, “We all have to make sacrifices at times like these.”

  We hope that last night is the last time we’ll see the not-wolves. There’d only been a couple dozen total Bâtardi reported missing and we’d killed that many easily last night. Now we just need to find out who created them and keep them from making more. The Coven is the best place to start. But the rest of the world still goes on, and tonight I’ll be trying to seduce a Blood Mistress. So instead of running down clues, I’m going shopping.

  I wait in the kitchen for everyone to get ready and with a stroke of genius, I open the cabinet above the kitchen sink taking out the bottle of vodka I keep there. I pour myself a shot and take it back. I pour another and take that one back quickly. When I go to pour another, a hand stops me. Lucien’s hand stops me. I close my eyes. I can’t deal with round two. I can’t deal with any more questions about why I don’t love him, can’t love him, or why I don’t love and can’t love myself.

  He turns me around to face him. I don’t look up; instead I concentrate on staring at his chest. His hand reaches up, nudging my chin until he tilts my head back. I look sideways. I don’t want to meet his gaze.

  “I’ll not have you walking around looking defeated, Jae, like your spirit is broken. I need to give you space and time. It was foolish for me to think I would come back and nothing would be different between us. We will be ok,” he says. I nod my head in response.

  “I’d hear the words, Jaevia Knightley.” I close my eyes as my body squeezes in response to hearing him say that.

  Long ago, when we made love like only we could, he’d only let me find release if I said the words, his words. ‘I’d hear the words,’ he’d demand, stroking me deeply as I writhed underneath him. Lucien was training my body and soul to only be his.

  “I belong to you,” I whisper, keeping my eyes closed.

  “That’s right, together or not, if you love me or not. You will always be mine; to honor, to respect, and to cherish. You will not walk around defeated because you are not. You’re too hard-headed to give up. You will not give up, Jae. I will not give up. I was wrong to push you so hard, so soon.” He kisses me then, slowly and gently, his need becoming more urgent. I open my mouth and let our tongues dance again and again.

  I get caught up in the feel of him as my heart aches. I beg for his forgiveness, he gives it to me freely. Maybe I can never love this man but I damn sure could learn to respect him, cherish him, and protect him. I’ll give him everything I can, every drop of it. Maybe one day it’ll be enough. Because the truth is, I’ll not let him go, not without a fight. As much as I belong to him, he belongs to me, he is mine.

  He pulls away and looks down to me, his eyes are clear and calm with just a hint of passion that he’s locking away with his immense self-discipline.

  “I’m sorry, Lucien, I’m so sorry. I’ll try,” I sniff up to him.

  “We will go slow.”

  “We will go slow,” I smile up at him.

  We’ll be ok. I don’t know where we’ll end up but at least it’s a question and no longer a definite nowhere. New beginnings hopefully won’t turn to old endings.

  Jack clears his throat from the doorway. “I need to know what size you wear, Lucien,” he says with a pen and pad in his hand.

  Lucien turns his head with the most incredulous look on his face I’ve ever seen, staring at Jack. I hide my smile behind my hand.

  “I’m her guard. I will wear what I usually wear.”

  “Only cheap muscle looks like muscle. You are representing the Grigori of Baltimore; we will not look cheap.”

  Lucien growls.

  “Look, beast man, if you want to come tonight then you’ll have to be dressed appropriately. You cannot go stomping about your army boots.” He gives a Lucien an ‘I’m waiting’ look. I snicker; Lucien turns his appalled look on me.

  I hold up my hands, looking up at him. “Jack is in charge of wardrobe, if you want to come you wear what he says.”

  Lucien closes his eyes, counting I’m sure. I think he goes all the way to twenty this time. He rattles off his sizes without opening his eyes. Jack makes worried noises in his throat and keeps looking Lucien up and down. Lucien is a big man. Finding anything off the rack for him is going to be difficult.

  Lucien looks down at me again. He leans down to my ear. “On a scale of one to ten, how angry would you be if I punched vamp boy?”

  “Being that he’s about to make me go shopping and stuff me in clothes I don’t want to wear either? A three point five at most.” Lucien laughs a booming laugh, full out. I cherish the sound because it is so rare. I smile and look over to Jack. He just looks at us, exasperated. I shrug my shoulder.

  Lucien walks over to Jack and holds out his hand. They clasp forearms in some barbaric handshake kind of way.

  “You fought well last night, vampire, which is why I’m trusting her to you. Bring her back safely or I’ll hunt you down and kill you, painfully.” Lucien says in all beast man seriousness, not letting go of Jacks arm. He’d do it, too, but I had no need to tell Jack- his look was just as serious as he looked up to the big man.

  “As would be your right,” Jack responds.

  They nod to each other. I turn and go out the door yelling behind me, “When you guys are done comparing the size of your cocks, I’ll be waiting in the car.” But I say it with laughter in my voice. Those two are making progress, and if it’s a little weird for me to consider one man threatening to kill the other, and the other accepting this as his right to be progress, then so be it. Because at least they’d made their death threats clasping arms, baby steps.

  We make it to the city entrance in good time. Jack drives us to a gate I’ve never used before, telling me this entrance is closer to the shopping district he wants to visit. I just go along with it. The buzz of the vodka on a mostly empty stom
ach is making me very happy. It won’t last long. My metabolism will burn the alcohol out of my system in no time. But for now, nothing can ruin my liquor-induced good mood.

  Two CNAE soldiers I don’t know come up to the car. Both of us roll down our window and hold out our arms to have them scanned. “Janice Smith, what is your business in the city today?” The soldier on my side asks.

  “He’s taking me shopping at the Wycked Lust,” I respond jutting a thumb towards Jack. The soldier chuckles and takes a moment to straighten his face. I don’t know what’s funny, then my eyes widen as realization hits me. He thinks I’m a hooker.

  “Will two hours be enough, sir?” The one on Jack’s side asks.

  “We need time to go to the Veranda as well; I need to pick up a few things for myself,” Jack cuts in as I tense to let the stupid man know I’m not a whore. Ok so it’s my own fault for naming the store. I could have just said shopping district. Stupid vodka. I hide my face in embarrassment and anger.

  “Have a good time. You have four hours. Please make sure you’re logged out of the city by then,” the soldier on Jack’s side says.

  “Thank you, officer,” Jack says, putting the car back into drive and pulling forward.

  “He thinks I’m a hooker,” I say with outrage.

  “Well, you’d be a high-priced hooker, one of Madame Valentines very own.” He laughs as I pout.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered, Jae, I would’ve told him the same thing. It’s the most logical reason for us to be here. My residence still comes up as The Secret; everyone that works there shops at Wycked Lust, everyone knows that we are high priced whores, we wear the best.”

  The irony of this is not lost on me. I remember the night I first met Jack. I told him I couldn’t afford to buy a night from him. Now the soldiers think he’s buying me outfits for my first night as a hooker. To be honest, he is buying me outfits to be a hooker. I can’t afford to buy anything in the city and I am selling myself. I’d sold myself to save Peter and I don’t regret it. But it does bother me that Jack will be paying for whatever I need.

  Tabari brought a chest full of gold coins and gems with him from home; my stipend to set up my Grigori Office. But we haven’t had time to transfer it to credits I can put on my chip. Not to mention I still need someone to reprogram my chip to read my real name. Since I’m not on the run any longer, I’d like to have my real name back.

  Seems like I wasted a gem in having my name changed in the first place; Tabari can track me anyway. But if the Kindred was watching for a Jaevia Knightley to scan her wrist somewhere, they would’ve been waiting a long time. Tabari’s spell on the diamonds I have in my ears, on my anklet, and embedded in one of my knives takes care of the tracking feature in the chip easily. Tabari’s magic against technology; I’ll bet on Tabari any day of the week.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The birth of Janice Smith

  I’d run to Baltimore, thinking that I was smart enough to survive. I should have known better. I had gems but no way to get them transferred into credits and I couldn’t use the VRB – vital records bureau – chip I had anyway. That first night sleeping in the slums was enough for me to realize I knew nothing about survival in the human world. The Kindred has always provided, even my time with her, I’d been kept warm and fed, most of the time. If this had been the forests back home, I would’ve been fine. But this world was strange, I still had a lot to learn about it.

  I’d broken into one of the abandoned, crumbling buildings of the slums and collapsed in a corner on the floor, huddled in my coat against the cold. I’d been running nonstop for hours. It had taken me almost two days to reach Baltimore by foot. It was cold, so cold. I still can’t decide if the hunger or the cold was worse. But still, I naively believed I’d be all right if I made it to the city. I had no real plan past that. I found out how wrong I was very quickly.

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of rats crawling around and sniffing at my feet. I’d jumped up screaming and kicking at them.

  To this day I can’t stand rats. I can’t stand their furry cousins, mice, either. Minx being a cat is a blessing.

  I’d made my way back to the streets and to the fringe. My feet followed the smell of food; the hunger pains were harsh in my stomach, twisting it in knots. I’d never known this kind of hunger; I had no idea how to hunt for food. Not human earth side, what animals were safe, plants, mushrooms. It was winter on the east coast; there wasn’t much to choose from anyway.

  My nose had led me to a baker’s shop. I stood there, outside the shop, mouth watering at the smell of baking bread. My hands rubbed my pants again and again. I thought long and hard about just going home, only three days I’d been gone and already the world had been so close to breaking me. I can’t buy anything. I can’t have my wrist scanned. Stupid fucking chips.

  I looked up and down the street, there were a few people walking about, shopping. There was a butcher’s shop and a small clothing shop. A small produce cart sat on one of the corners. I knew small business was the way things are done in the human world now. People of the fringe were afraid of large corporations. They’d been the first to crash during the collapse of man. People with old world skills had been worth their weight in gold when the human world fell apart. As a hold-over, people still shopped in specialty stores.

  No one paid much attention to me as they went about their daily business. I’d glamoured my horns away but that was the only thing I had enough energy to do. I’d kept my eyes downcast when anyone had gotten close; I had to hide my eyes. Don’t get noticed Jae, I kept rattling in my head, over and over again.

  Stealing from inside a shop would be too risky. There were guards on one of the corners. I can’t risk getting caught. But the produce cart was out in the open. Desperate, I walked by quickly snatching an orange from the cart. I can still feel how my heart thumped in my chest waiting for a cry of alarm to ring out.

  I had barely made it to an alley away from the fringe before I fell to my knees and peeled the orange stuffing the orange slices in my mouth as I peeled, I’d eaten the seeds, too, and put the peel in my coat pocket to chew on later. My fingers were sticky with juice I was sucking them, cleaning them good.

  “I’ll give you something better to suck on,” I’d heard a voice from the end of the alley.

  I’d turned my head and seen three men standing at the mouth of the alley leering at me. I’d stood up and backed away slowly. I hadn’t heard them come and there was no escape; one way in, one way out.

  “Aw now, come on, baby girl. We’ll give you something to eat if you show each of us a good time,” the one in the middle had said.

  My fingers still sticky with the juice from the orange curled into fists.

  Kill them all, a voice inside me had said.

  She had helped me survive her. Her, I could trust.

  I dropped my bag from my shoulder and took a step forward. I growled low in throat, “I’m not a whore.”

  Why was that distinction so important to me at the time? I’ve always been very good at denial.

  The one in middle pulled a knife. “If you won’t give us what we want nicely, we’ll just take it. Now pull down your pants and get on all fours like a good girl and I won’t stick you,” he paused, “with my knife.” All three of them had laughed at his pun.

  Before I could move to kill them, another man came around the corner of the alley, he was old and dirty. So dirty I’d thought he was a black man at first. He wasn’t though, he was a white man.

  “I think Miss Lady said no,” he said in a clear voice, pulling a gun from his coat.

  The three of them turned looking at the black, but really a white man. The one in the middle with the knife had taken a step towards him then, “Mind your business old man.”

  He was such an idiot; didn't he know? Never bring a knife to a gun fight. I’d run forward and jumped on the middle man’s back and snatched the blade from his hand faster than he could think. I’d held the knife t
o his neck my legs still clasped tightly around his waist.

  He put his hands up in the air but I didn’t climb down. My heart wanted something much darker than a clean death. “Now down on your hands and knees like a good boy.” I whispered in his ear, licking it.

  The old man ordered the other two to go, which they did, with no concern for the fate of their leader. I’d climbed off the man’s back when he knelt on all fours seeing no help was coming from his friends. I’d walked around to the front of him still holding the knife in his direction.

  “Pull down your pants,” I’d said in a sultry, but dangerous voice.

  The old man beside me put away his gun, saying nothing, and only watched.

  “What do you plan on doing to me?” The scum at my feet had asked in a quivering voice. I only bent over and traced the dull side of the blade over his jugular. “If I have to tell you again, I’m going to hurt you more.” He’d rushed to pull down his pants then.

  I still remembered the bright whiteness of his ass and how it quivered in the sun. His shriveled up manhood hanging between his thighs as I made him spread his legs and arch his back, it had made my succubus moan in pleasure.

  I’d walked around him slowly, stood behind him and traced the dull edge of the blade softly over his ass and down his cleft. I paused with the tip at his opening. “Now, give me a reason why I shouldn’t stick you.”

  He’d whimpered and cried beneath me, begging me not to.

  “You were going to stick me, you just said it. So give me a reason why I shouldn’t hurt you? Kill you? Tell me why!” I’d shouted, tears streaming down my face.

  He made to move away, but I grabbed him by the balls and squeezed tight.

  “Tell me why!” I yelled at him again as I held him.

  My heart truly wanted darker things then. How dare he try to rape me? He’d never rape another woman again.

  “Because it would make you no better than whoever abused you, Miss Lady,” came the calming voice of the black man who was a white man.