Blue Moon

by J. A. Belfield

  Nathan tried to hide his blink but failed.

  Ethan’s movement to round the table reached the corner of my eye.

  Beth’s fingers brushed my free arm. “Jem?”

  I shrugged her off. “Let go of me, Nate. I’m leaving.”

  “And I’ve just told you you’re not.” His hold tightened. “Not whilst you’re under my command.”

  “Then . . .” I lowered my gaze as I gathered my thoughts. Beth’s fingers touched my arm again. I ignored her, raising my attention back up to meet Nathan’s. “Then consider me out of your pack.”

  I tugged my arm free—only achievable because Nathan’s lessened grip arrived with the widening of his eyes—and continued for the front door.

  “Do not walk out that door!” Nathan shouted.

  Footsteps hit the tiles behind me. I didn’t turn. My hand snagged my scarf from the banister. I secured it around my neck as I flung the door open—and I strode one, two, three paces away before an image, idea, memory flashed inside my head and brought me to a halt.

  I about-turned and re-entered the house. Beth’s eyes followed me as I stalked past her in the hallway. Nathan’s fury had brightened his eyes to a brilliant blue that softened slightly as I marched back into the kitchen.

  I snatched the pen off the table, turning to him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” I lifted his shirt by the hem. “If I’m now banned, you may not see me for a while. But something tells me”—I drew an upside down triangle on the firm flesh of his stomach—“this symbol will keep you safe.”

  Nathan’s gaze tracked me across the room.

  Ethan looked as though he might protest as I stood before him, but he surprised me by doing the honours and revealing his bare skin himself.

  Nathan’s mouth opened, staying that way for seconds. I needed to move faster, take advantage of his momentary muteness.

  “I have absolutely no idea why I believe this will keep you safe.” The image I drew on Ethan matched Nathan’s. “But it just popped into my head, and, as things that pop into my head usually hold some deeper meaning than I initially realise, I’m willing to follow my instincts and go with it.”

  As I sidestepped to Connor, his hands smoothed over his shirt, coming to settle against his stomach.

  “It’s the least you can do. If I can’t be here, I need to feel I’ve left you all with some form of protection.” I grasped at his shirt, gave a small tug. “Please, Connor.”

  He relented, allowing me to finish.

  I spun and tossed the pen to Beth. “Make sure you mark yourself, too, okay?”

  She gave a slow nod as I passed the men and ducked into the hall.

  I paused at the open front door, twisted to peer back over my shoulder. “As soon as I’ve found them, I’ll bring them home. I promise you, they’ll be back.”

  “Jem, don’t—” Nathan started.

  The slam of the door cut off his words.

  20

  My heart beat like a bass drum as I covered the driveway, my ears twitching for pursuit or another order from Nathan to stay.

  I knew they couldn’t understand my reasoning for leaving. How could I expect them to? Growing up in a male-dominant race of creatures had imbibed it into them that they were the warriors, the fighters, the protectors. They believed themselves superior. I couldn’t hold their prejudices against them. They were who they were. I just had to hope they’d heed my concerns about remaining protected.

  I took a right turn out the gates and hit the road with no clue where to go. I’d never heard of the address Jess had given me. At least I had my phone, could call for directions or connect to the Internet to look it up.

  My feet moved me forward on what I suspected would be a long trek. In my haste to leave, I hadn’t thought to take a vehicle—but then, what right did I have to make the assumption I could? I’d just relinquished my place in the pack, hadn’t I?

  I ploughed on, peering ahead. The stretch of road went on longer than ever. In my head, I calculated the distance to the nearest village. From there, I could take the bus, use my mobile to locate the shop on the journey, find it on foot and get what I needed, but then what?

  What the hell do I do once I’ve been there?

  Where on earth would I go?

  On walking out, hadn’t I made myself homeless?

  Plodding on, I stepped into the road as the pavement came to an end.

  The traffic had already begun to build—nine-to-fivers with their day stretched out ahead of them.

  My normal day would have been ahead of me if Marianne hadn’t—I couldn’t force the thought out. The deep cavity within my chest expanded a little wider and a tear trickled across my cheek.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how Sean would have received my behaviour that morning. Wouldn’t he have had the exact same attitude as the rest of them? Would he not have considered it a ridiculous notion for me to assume the responsibility of rescue?

  I knew he would. He had the same genes.

  My heart weighed heavy; it took effort to drag my feet onward. Cars whizzed past with no consideration for the lone pedestrian. Maybe they couldn’t see me. The gloomy sky above refused to cast any generous amount of light, especially at that hour. Dressing in dark denim and petrol blue couldn’t have helped either. Only the light tone of my bare arms reflected any light.

  In my urgent need to leave, I hadn’t paused to consider the outside temperature. Whilst my neck, with the scarf I’d grabbed on the way out, may have been good and cosy, the rest of me lay exposed to the cold.

  My arms hugged about my chest—against the incessant pain within as much as against the chill—whilst I tried to ignore my predicament, my heartache and my worries.

  Just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the first flakes of snow drifted down from the clouds.

  With teeth chattering like haunted dentures, I fixated on the numbness that crept into my limbs.

  The snow moistened the road in no time. Car tyres swished past, headlights on full to illuminate their route. Traffic grew relentless. One car after another flashed by. A couple of horns blasted out at my invasion upon their space.

  One car approached my rear at a slower speed than the others. The engine crept up with a quiet purr rather than an angry growl. As it quieted even more, telling me the car slowed further, its horn blared.

  I ignored it.

  The car drew up beside me, unhurried enough to match my pace. Although obscured by the yarns of my scarf, my hearing picked up the mechanical workings of the window opening.

  “Jem?”

  My head tilted.

  Inside the black Lexus, Beth leaned across the passenger seat, one eye on me, one on the road. “Get in the car.”

  I continued to walk.

  Impatient motorists raced past.

  “Come on, Jem. Don’t be so stubborn. You’re freezing. How much longer do you think you’ll last, dressed like that in this weather?”

  “What are you doing here?” I said through numb lips.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said. “Now get in.”

  I ceased walking and turned to her, and the Lexus rolled to a stop. “Are you planning on taking me back?”

  Beth shook her head. “Not unless that’s what you want.”

  I studied her for a few seconds. “How do I know you mean it?”

  Her hand fumbled down inside of her door. She jangled a set of keys at me. “These are to my apartment. They’re yours if you want them. You can stay there as long as you like.”

  Could I trust her? My gut said yes.

  Beth placed the keys on the dashboard and leaned across the passenger seat to push open the door. “Please, Jem. Get in.”

  Heat from the car’s interior mingled with the outsid
e air to drift over me as enticement. Blowing out a deep breath, I climbed in.

  Blasts of warmth assaulted my face as I closed the door. Beth angled every vent in my direction until heat hit me from all sides.

  I tugged on my belt as she pulled off from the roadside. “So …you aren’t going to try to convince me to come back with you?” My teeth bashed together between each word.

  “Of course I am.” She smiled. “But I’ve seen enough of you to know how obstinate you can be. So, I wanted to make sure you had somewhere to go in case I failed. That way, I can tell Nathan you’re somewhere safe.”

  “And somewhere he’s familiar with,” I said.

  “That, too.”

  I nodded, grateful for her honesty. My circulation pumped warmed blood through my veins as we fell quiet for a few moments.

  “You think I was wrong to walk out?” I asked, though it didn’t sound like a question.

  She didn’t speak at first, as though considering her answer, and kept her eyes on the road. After a few seconds, she glanced at me. “I think Nathan is afraid to allow you to do this alone. He’s afraid for you, Jem. But, I don’t believe there’s any chance of you two reaching a compromise.”

  “Because he won’t back down.”

  Beth shrugged. “Neither will you.”

  “That’s because I’m right. I can’t worry about them. I have too much to concentrate on. Sean needs my full attention. He needs me—”

  “But, Nathan doesn’t understand why you’d feel the need to go this alone.”

  “What Nathan doesn’t grasp is the concept of allowing me control of the situation. It’s okay, Beth, I understand. He can’t help the way he is, and I know that. Just as I can’t help that I need to get Sean back …by myself—my way.”

  She reached over and patted my hand where it sat in my lap. On contact, she folded her fingers around it, lifting it toward the vent. “You need to get warmer. Your hands are like ice.”

  I raised my other hand, too, holding them both in the stream of air. As I relaxed into my seat, my lids drooped, mind and body showing the first sign of tiring.

  “Do we know where we’re going?” Beth asked.

  My eyes flittered open. I’d been on the edge of dozing off. I shook myself out of it, fumbling in my pocket for my mobile and the sheet of paper. It took a few minutes to figure out how to connect to the Internet on my phone. Once I had, it took half that to locate the position of the address.

  “Far side of town,” I said. “Coppet Walk. According to this, it’s just off Bridge Street—probably an alley or something in between the main shops.”

  “Bridge Street? There’s a car park there, I think.”

  “Dunno,” I mumbled. My total skills at vehicular navigation bordered on zero.

  “We’ll find it. Don’t worry.” She gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Now, why don’t you close your eyes again for a few minutes? I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  I twisted my head to look at her, my brow creased.

  “I promise I’ll wake you. Trust me.”

  I did, so I nodded. With the quiet rumble of engine background noise and the minute rocking motion, I sank under.

  • • •

  The third alleyway we came across held the sign I’d been hoping for. “This is it. Coppet Walk.”

  I ducked down the six-foot wide gap with Beth at my heels. Thankfully, the fleece sweater she’d insisted on buying from the first store we passed helped maintain my body heat. The temperatures hadn’t risen with daylight—may even have plummeted—and the snowflakes had increased in size and density. To an extent, the walk offered shelter with its high stone walls on either side.

  Farther along, the alley opened up into a courtyard that housed a quaint gathering of small and unusual businesses—a fancy-dress store, a tiny jewellery shop that boasted all items being handmade on the premises, a candle factory with elaborately carved wax in the window, a vintage clothing shop, and Sacred.

  I turned to Beth. “Maybe you should go look round one of the other shops for a while.”

  “You don’t want me to come with you?”

  “It would be better if I went in alone as I’m not familiar to them.”

  “Okay.” She thumbed to the right. “I’ll go check out the candles.”

  I waited until she’d entered before I stepped toward Sacred. A bell above the door clanged on entry.

  Within, shadows added atmosphere to the tiny space. Rather than making it seem dark and dingy, the interior had a mystical atmosphere that I warmed to in an instant.

  A tall man stood behind the counter to the left, his fingers working hard to thread jade beads onto what looked like hemp string. He paused and sent me a small nod and smile, which I returned.

  On the surface, the place could have been any other new-age type shop. The air smelled thick with the many flavours of incense. Even within their cardboard sleeves, the perfume permeated the room. Holders lay beside them in various designs and sizes, as well as burners and scented oils. Dreamcatchers hung from hooks or nails from the ceiling as well as the walls, all different in colour and size.

  My head turned as two young women tapped at bamboo chimes. A natural, melodious tune echoed out to the carpet-lined walls. They laughed as though amused at their invasion upon the tranquillity of the shop, without understanding they’d merely enhanced it with the music they’d produced. Ignoring their ignorance, I continued to scan.

  The two women moved across to the counter, arms laden with items. I waited with the pretence of studying the amethyst collection, tilting my head to listen in to their polite conversation. They babbled on about spending their day with boyfriends or family, about the weather and Christmas plans. A sharp pang pierced my chest, yet I continued to eavesdrop. Once the jangle of the bell declared their departure, I crossed to the counter.

  The man tracked my passage, his hands flat upon the countertop. His lips spread into a courteous smile as I reached him. “May I help you?” He had a quiet voice for a tall man, but it didn’t come as a surprise. For some reason, it seemed to befit his surroundings as though they moulded together into a complete package.

  I forced a return smile onto my face. “I need directions to the Pagan’s Pantry. I was told I might find them here.”

  His eyes narrowed for a split second. “May I ask who gave you this information?” His voice dropped even lower than the first time he’d spoken.

  I held his gaze. “It came highly recommended to me by Marcus Fletcher.”

  Instant recognition entered his eyes, and his body relaxed. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting for just a moment?”

  “Of course not.”

  I went back to checking out the shop, reined in my little dance of triumph at getting past the first hurdle.

  From behind came the patter and swish of a beaded curtain, followed by a call for someone named Olivia. The beads clinked again. “She’ll be with you soon.”

  “Thanks,” I said over my shoulder.

  I waited less than five minutes for a woman to join us. Her height held sharp contrast to the man’s as she barely reached my shoulders.

  She walked over to me, arms folded. “Your list?” No greeting, no introduction, straight to business.

  “I wrote it down, but it’s a bit illegible.”

  She waved her left hand. “If you tell me, I’ll remember.”

  I gave an impressed nod and pulled the crumpled paper out. “Okay. Iron beads—as many as you have. Burdock root. A few yards of strong red thread . . .”

  She ticked off a finger, her lips moving with each recited item.

  “Centaury—”

  “Ah, that’s out of stock.”

  “No worries,” I said. “Do you have three-day-old soaked mandrake root solution?”
r />   “Of course.” She nodded. “I’ve made a few batches up this week.”

  “Cool. I also need some dragon’s blood and—”

  “Gum Arabica,” she finished. When I nodded, she asked, “Will you be requiring a quill for that, or do you already possess one?”

  I almost told her I’d no idea before I recalled I had to sound as though I knew my stuff. “No, I don’t have one.”

  She nodded, ticked off another finger. “What about parchment?”

  “Need that, too.” If the gnome of a woman believed I needed some to use with my other ingredients, I bet she’d be right.

  She gave another nod. “If you’ll kindly wait up here, I’ll go and collect your order.”

  “Sure—thanks.”

  She glided away and disappeared behind the hanging beads. I caught the man’s stare, met it with one of my own. He didn’t turn away. Shrugging in indifference, I went back to perusing the shop.

  As I fingered the dangling feathers of a turquoise dreamcatcher, the vibration of my mobile tickled the top of my thigh. I drew it out, checked the caller display. Nathan. A deep sigh left me. I didn’t want to ignore him, but I knew why he’d called and couldn’t deal with that kind of conversation in front of a stranger. With a mental apology, I switched the phone off.

  The woman reappeared, a box in her arms. She inclined her head toward the counter.

  I strolled over, studying the box contents. “You take card payment for these?” I took out Nathan’s company card, which had been in my jeans pocket all week.

  “Of course.” She offered her first smile.

  As though on cue, the man produced a pin machine. I handed him the plastic to insert, waited as it went through, and keyed the number in before retrieving the card.

  The woman’s hand closed over the top of mine as I went to lift the box. When I raised my gaze to hers, she appeared to stare right into me—like a crazy soul searcher judging by her intensity. She stayed like that for twenty some seconds before she released me and took a step back.

  I collected the box and went to walk away.