Ebon Moon

by McDonald, Dennis

  “Those kids?” she responded and laughed. “They seem pretty harmless. Terry asked me out, by the way. What do you think? Maybe the best way for me to get a man is to train him from puberty.”

  “I can’t believe the nerd had the balls to ask anyone out, but I can’t blame him for having good taste in women.”

  “Thank you. He was so sweet, too. I hated turning him down. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” Jessica asked, surprised he wasn’t asking about the events with Debbie Miller at the bar.

  “I want you to stay away from Roxie’s. It’s not safe for Megan and you.”

  “I’m not going back. Collin creeps me out, and I’ve had enough of Debbie Miller’s drama. You should arrest Brody Carlson, though. He pulled a knife on Collin and stabbed him. I saw it from behind the bar even though Collin denied he was hurt.”

  “Collin can take care of himself.” Sheriff Sutton’s face tightened. “It’s you I’m worried about. I want you to be extra careful, Jess. Where’s your pistol?”

  “It’s in my purse. Do you think Debbie will come after me?”

  “It’s not Debbie I’m worried about.” He reached out and took hold of both her hands.

  “Then who?” Jessica felt a knot of fear growing in her stomach.

  “Your husband.”

  His name hit her like a cold slap in the face. “Blake?”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot tonight, and I’m sorry to dump more on you.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I checked with Chicago PD. Blake Lobato is wanted for the arson of your home in Chicago and the murder of a stripper going by the stage name of Passion.”

  “Passion? Oh my God, I knew her. We worked together in the same club.”

  “You were a stripper?” His eyes widened with surprise.

  “Yes.” She looked down at her hands held by the sheriff. “Blake forced me into it. He has a terrible cocaine addiction. I used to make over a thousand dollars a night stripping. You have to understand, I lived in absolute fear of my husband for years. He’s crazy when he’s high. Megan and I are both lucky to be alive.” She looked up and met his eyes. “Passion was a dealer in one of the clubs I worked. Blake used to score coke off her after hours.”

  “Your hands are shaking,” Sheriff Sutton said, clasping her hands tighter.

  “Please tell me they arrested him,” Jessica asked, turning her gaze to the dark front windows of the trailer.

  “Illinois law enforcement has put out a statewide canvass to find him. So far, no luck. He could be anywhere.”

  “Like outside waiting for you to leave,” she said, feeling panic rising inside. “He’s an ex-cop with a lot of connections. Maybe he found out where I am.”

  “Not likely, but until he’s caught, I want you safe. He committed a homicide and is on the run. That makes him desperate and dangerous.” Sheriff Sutton released her hands and stood. “Stay here in the trailer and don’t go anywhere. I’ll keep a close watch for strangers in the town and drop by to check on you when I can.”

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

  “I’ve had a rough day. I’m tired.”

  She reached up and took his hand again. “Then stay here tonight.”

  “Jess, what are you asking?”

  “If Blake is in the area, he will find us and not hesitate to kill me or my daughter. That much I know.” She paused before adding, “I’m not asking you to sleep with me. I may have been a stripper, but I’m not a whore. I’ll make you a bed on the couch. You can sleep there.”

  “You’re asking a lot of my self-control to stretch out on a couch when one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met is sleeping alone in the next room.”

  “You can come to my bed if you have to,” she replied with a tremor in her voice. “Just don’t leave.”

  “You don’t really mean that, Jess. You just want me to stay here to protect your daughter.” Sheriff Sutton sighed and unzipped his uniform jacket. “Taking advantage of a desperate woman is not my style. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll sleep here on the couch.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed his hand and stood. “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow.”

  She went to a closet and took out the bedding. When she returned, Sheriff Sutton had removed his gun belt and pulled his Glock semiautomatic pistol from the holster. She placed the blanket and pillow on the end of the couch.

  “The doors and windows are all locked?” he asked, taking the pillow and hiding his pistol underneath.

  “Yes,” Jessica replied, removing the .357 from her purse on the dining room table. The sheriff watched her stuff the pistol in the waist of her jeans. “This will be under my pillow, too.”

  “Do you know how to use that?” he asked.

  “I trained for two months at a pistol range in Chicago. It’s a little heavier than what I’m used to, but I do know how to shoot.”

  “Just don’t put a bullet in me in the middle of the night if I go to the bathroom.”

  “I won’t.”

  He put his boots up on the couch and pulled the blanket over him. “I’m not taking off my boots. I hope you don’t mind. I want them on in case something goes down outside.”

  “That’s fine.” She reached over to turn off the living room lamp. “Good night, cowboy.”

  “I don’t even get a good-night kiss?” he asked with a smile.

  “You’re no Marshal Dillon, are you?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I was told Marshal Dillon never kissed a girl in all his years on Gunsmoke.”

  He chuckled and took her hand. “I’m no Marshal Dillon.”

  He drew her down on top of him covering her mouth in a deep, wet kiss. His intoxicating smell sent her pulse racing as their tongues interlocked. Hands caressed gently up her back.

  “Is that a gun or are you happy to see me?” he asked, ending their kiss.

  “What?” she breathed against his face.

  “Your pistol.” He winced. “It’s sticking me where it hurts.”

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” She sat up and removed the .357 and placed it in her purse on the coffee table.

  “Much better.” He drew her once more to him. They shared another long kiss. His hands slid up her top, moving along her bare skin and stopping at her black bra. His powerful aroma made her dizzy. Breathless, she separated from his embrace.

  “Okay, cowboy, come with me.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the couch. “This is a onetime offer and you better take it before it expires.”

  “Sold,” he replied, following her from the living room and down the hall. She peeked into her daughter’s room to find Megan fast asleep. Closing the door, she led him into her bedroom, shutting off the light switch.

  In the moonlight from the one window, they undressed each other with reckless abandon. He pulled her top off over her head as she unbuttoned the front of his uniform shirt. Baring his chest, the muscular build of his torso surprised her. Sheriff Sutton had the body of a professional athlete. Her hands ran over his defined chest muscles and down to the chiseled abs. On his left side just above the hip, she spotted a strange scar that reminded her of bite marks. She wanted to ask how he got the wound, but his mouth covered hers before she could get the words out. The waves of intense male aroma emanating from his moonlit flesh made her forget everything but their impending passion together.

  The sheriff unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts for his hands to hold. Jessica fumbled with the front of his slacks, undid his pants, and let them fall. He responded in kind by sliding down her jeans and underwear. Picking her up easily, he dropped her naked upon the bed. She studied his perfect body while he stood by the bed admiring her nudity. Something about his gaze caused Jessica to nearly gasp in shock. His eyes seemed unnaturally dark. She decided it was just a trick of the moon and shadows. The next second he was on top of her, and she embraced his naked flesh with her own.

  “Jess,�
�� he breathed hot against her neck.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered back.

  He pushed himself deep inside her. Jessica clung to him as each thrust increased her pleasure, drawing her closer to an explosive climax. She had never known such wanton lust with a man. Animal-like grunts escaped from his throat as their lovemaking increased in its intensity. Grasping his back, her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades as she rode the pounding of his body against hers. Their passion ended in a shared ecstasy that left them both spent and collapsed together. Too weak to move, he lay panting against her neck while her hands slid along his sweat-slick back. Finally, they separated and he brushed the loose strands of blonde hair out of her face.

  “How was it?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Incredible,” she replied with tears of joy forming in the corner of her eyes.

  “For me, too.” He smiled, pulling her close. He softly kissed her tears. “Thank you.”

  They caressed and explored each other’s body until they became aroused again. The second round of lovemaking was much more systematic and controlled compared to the frenzied lust of the first. When finished, Jessica snuggled against him as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Where did you get that scar?” she asked, touching the spot above his left hip.

  “Oh, that?” He took a deep breath. “A few years back I was part of a narcotics bust up north. We broke down a meth dealer’s front door, but unfortunately he had a shotgun. The vest absorbed most of the blast saving my life.”

  “It looks like a shark or something bit you.”

  He laughed. “I guess it does. I never thought about it.”

  “Dale, where do we go from here?”

  “Honestly, I don’t have a clue. Get some sleep and we’ll worry about it in the morning.” He kissed her lips. “You’re safe now.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  “Hurry, my brother, I don’t know how much longer I can fight it,” Roxie said from the passenger seat of Collin’s truck, which was racing down a two-lane blacktop eleven miles west of Hope Springs. She hung her head down and clutched the dashboard with both hands, attempting to stave off the transformation. Collin glanced at his sister. The nails on her fingers started to extend and dig into the dash. He understood her stress. With the full moon tonight and the Ebon Moon twenty-four hours away, the urge to become a werewolf raged against his control to stay human.

  “Just a bit longer,” Collin replied. “You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Grover Lake,” he answered.

  “Just tell me we’re going to feed?” she asked in a thick voice, starting to turn animal-like.

  “Yes.”

  Collin turned in to the Grover Lake recreation area. He switched off the headlights. Due to the recent cold snap, the camping area consisted of deserted picnic tables and unused outdoor grills standing in the dark. No campers or vehicles were present. The lake stretched across the horizon with the full moon glistening on the black water, like a spotlight.

  “I’m burning up,” Roxie stated, sliding off her T-shirt. “I have to get out of these clothes.” She stripped naked in the dim light from the dashboard.

  Collin rounded a bend on the access road winding through the empty lake area. He scanned the campgrounds looking for any sign of someone else. Ahead, he spotted the orange glow of a flickering campfire near some trees by the water’s edge.

  “I think I found them,” he said, stopping the truck.

  “Who?”

  “Debbie Miller and her friends,” he replied. “One of them said something about going to party at the lake. This is the closest lake to Hope Springs.” He shut the engine off. “I bet they’re camping over by those trees. What makes this more perfect is there’s no one else around.”

  “A midnight snack.” Roxie smiled, showing her thickening canines. “I love it.”

  * * * *

  After leaving Roxie’s, Debbie Miller rode out to Grover Lake, sitting between Steve Kiegler and Brody Carlson. She was in a foul mood and chain-smoked Marlboros the entire way. The events at the roadhouse had not gone as she had planned. Collin’s interference ruined her wish to teach Jess a lesson. Now she would have to think of some other way to get even.

  Arriving at the lake, they chose a spot by the water’s edge where tall trees bordered one side. Together they unloaded the tent, ice cooler, Coleman lantern, and sleeping bags from the back of Steve’s truck. Only after they pitched the tent and started the fire did her mood improve. Sitting in a folding chair by the campfire, she took shots from a bottle of Wild Turkey and smoked another cigarette. The whiskey and the moonlit night helped her to forget about getting even with Jess. She sat listening to the lapping of the waves against the lakeshore and the popping of twigs in the fire.

  “I’m enjoying this.” She blew cigarette smoke into the air.

  “Not me.” Brody Carlson leaned forward, holding his bandaged head. “My fucking head hurts.”

  “Take another shot.” Debbie Miller handed him the bottle. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “Maybe we should’ve left him at the hospital,” Steve Kiegler stated, tossing another dried branch on the campfire. “He don’t look so good.”

  “Shut up.” Debbie watched Brody take a long swig of whiskey. “He’ll be fine.”

  He put the bottle down and rubbed his temple. “Fuck, I hurt.”

  “You okay, baby?” she asked, getting up from her chair. She crossed over and sat on his lap. “Let mama show you some love.”

  “It’s just my head.” He wrapped his arm around her thin waist. “It hurts like hell.”

  “Are you in too much pain for some pussy tonight?”

  “No way,” he chuckled.

  “Hey, what about me?” Steve stood up from his chair. “I paid for the whiskey, cigarettes, and food for this outing.”

  “You’ll get yours, too, Stevie, if you quit whining and play your cards right,” Debbie replied. “I just got to take care of my wounded homie first. You can have seconds.”

  “Okay,” Steve said, taking the whiskey from her hand and laughing. “Sloppy seconds is better than none.”

  “You know it,” Brody echoed the sentiment.

  Debbie brushed back her blonde highlights. “Brody goes first because he was the one who stood up to Collin at the bar. It sure as hell wasn’t you.”

  “Excuse me, didn’t I see him running like a little girl after Collin tossed him out the door?” Steve asked.

  “Screw you, man. I stabbed that sucker right in the gut. There’s something crazy about the guy. He had this crazy look in his eyes, like he wasn’t human. I swear the guy’s high on something. It scared the shit out of me.”

  “If you stabbed him, how come he didn’t go down?”

  “I guess he was so juiced up he didn’t even feel it.”

  An owl hooted somewhere in the nearby stand of trees. Debbie’s gaze sought the dark spaces where the flickering firelight didn’t reach. A chill passed over her body. The woods at night always spooked her. She remembered being thirteen again and hiding from her liquored-up stepfather in the trees outside her family’s trailer. She would wait for hours until he passed out. Back then, the disgust of having the drunken asshole crawling into her bed each night overrode her fear of the dark trees. Waiting in the woods worked well until the night her stepfather found her hiding place.

  “Are you cold, baby?” Brody asked, rubbing his hand down her bare arms.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “You got goose bumps all over you.”

  “Let’s take our party inside,” she said, putting her arms around his neck.

  “Sure thing, babe.”

  She got off his lap and grabbed the bottle of Wild Turkey from Steve. “You can come in after he’s done.”

  Steve chuckled. “That’ll be in about a minute.”

  “Fuck you,” Brody replied.

  Debbie Miller took Brody’s hand
and guided him to the front of the tent. He staggered and nearly fell against her.

  “Are you drunk already?” she asked.

  “Just feeling a little dizzy.”

  She unzipped the front of the tent and bent down to go inside. Brody followed and stretched out on a sleeping bag in the light of the Coleman lantern hanging overhead. He looked terrible. The hospital had shaved the swollen left side of his head and taped a bandage against his scalp. His left eye was extremely bloodshot and his pale skin felt clammy. In the lantern light, he reminded Debbie of a zombie from one of those stupid movies Steve liked to make her watch. She zipped up the entrance and turned down the Coleman lantern, allowing the fire outside to glow against the fabric walls of the tent.

  “I feel like shit, baby,” Brody muttered in the dim light. “So go easy on me.”

  She knelt and reached for the fly of his jeans. “I know a way to make you feel better.”

  The entrance suddenly unzipped. Steve stuck his head inside.

  “Man, wait your turn,” Brody shouted.

  “There’s a big animal moving through the trees,” Steve said with panic in his voice. “It’s a bear or something.”

  Debbie looked up in shock. In the glow of the firelight, a large shadow of something hunched and inhuman loomed against the tent wall behind Steve. She wanted to scream but it stuck in her throat. Steve turned and screamed instead as black claws grabbed him by the head and yanked him out of the tent door. Animal growls drowned out his pitiful screams for help.

  “What the fuck?” Brody asked, raising his head off the sleeping bag.

  Debbie was too frightened to say anything. Frozen in terror, she watched another dark shape appear in the entrance blocking the firelight. Black claws reached in and snagged Brody’s tennis shoe. She tried to hang on to him, but the thing ripped him from her grip and out the front of the tent. Screaming obscenities, he struggled against the shadowy horror just outside the door. A second later he fell back inside with the entire left side of his face torn open in bloody gashes. Desperately, Brody reached for her hand and their fingers touched briefly.