Under the Full Moon (Crimson Romance)

by Bobbi Romans

  The warmth of the place always settled her soul within minutes of entering. The burnt orange walls coupled with the lit candles and deep purple furniture normally would cause folks to think “tacky.” But here among the crushed velvet curtains and weathered leather bindings, it struck a chord of comfort. Of peace and harmony. She even had a coffee maker ready with fresh java for those wanting to curl up and check out a few books before purchasing.

  A few curious people came and wandered about with wide eyes and gaping jaws. An inquisitive older woman asked for books on crystals and how they worked. Turned out the poor woman currently battled a lengthy illness and was willing to try anything, especially older herbal or spiritual remedies. Grace chatted with the sweet lady, who requested a card for future trips. Grace didn’t push any false hopes but did explain that many holistic treatments, even in the worst of circumstances, had the power to ease certain symptoms.

  The afternoon continued without episode, but about the time Grace grabbed for the phone to order a late lunch from Betty’s, her skin crawled as the same wicked sensation of being watched intensified once more. She’d double checked the back door when she first arrived as well as every nook or cranny with potential to conceal a person. She simply found nothing to warrant the bad vibe she kept picking up.

  The “nothing” in itself creeped her out more than anything else.

  Her stomach rumbled in protest, so she grabbed her bag, swapped her front door sign to “Closed – Back in an Hour” and headed across the street to Betty’s. I’ll call Beth and ask if she’d like to swing by and keep me company. No, if something bad did go down, she didn’t want her niece in the line of fire.

  Damien.

  No. Even if the man even remembered the cell phone she gave him, he’d be deep in the heart of the swamp by now and no need to alarm or change their plans for something she wasn’t even sure about.

  “Hi, can I take your order?”

  “Uh, give me a moment please.” Her mind whirred with what action would be best.

  She paid for her favorite comfort food, a grilled cheese and tomato soup and grabbed a bench by the window. The best she could do right now was remain on alert herself. She had 911 on her speed dial and would keep her phone within fingers’ reach. She’d be fine. What could happen? It was the middle of the day and there were plenty of people around.

  • • •

  “You seem like a rat caught in a trap. Happy to be near the cheese but not in the situation.” Moss followed him into the secret entrance to his cave.

  Damien stopped in his tracks.”What makes you think I’m not happy being with Grace?”

  “Whoa, back up. I’m not in any way saying you aren’t happy with Grace. Simply making an observation you don’t seem at ease or rather comfortable at her place.”

  “Sorry. I’m a bit, uh, jumpy about the subject.”

  “So did you leave the television on or the toilet lid up one too many times?”

  Damien appreciated Moss trying to keep the topic light, but it was none of those reasons.”I’m living off a woman.”

  “Ahh. I feel you, my friend. It’s taken me some time to adjust as well. I’m used to being the provider, not the other way around.”

  “ Grace is … well, everything. She’s smart, successful and completely self-sufficient. What the hell does she need with someone like me? A freaking broke ass armadillo shifter?”

  “I don’t think money is even a consideration with a woman like Grace,” Moss replied quietly.

  “No, maybe not. But I won’t have a woman taking care of me. I need to find a way to help care for her. She deserves it.”

  Moss nodded with a slight grunt.

  “Wait … something feels off.” Damien thrust his arm out to still Moss.”Someone’s been here. Again.”

  “So much for hidden escapes,” Moss muttered.

  “Apparently.”

  Damien leaned over and gave Moss the directions to the secret entrance in back. There were only two main ways in and out. With him taking the main entrance and Moss covering the rear, they’d trap whoever the hell invaded his cave and maybe get a few straight answers as to what the shit was going on. What the secret society was about, and who the asshat was who led it.

  Inching his way into the opening of the cave, Damien flattened himself against the wall, hugging the shadows like a cloak of darkness. A familiar scent wafted to his nostrils, and he recognized without sight the intruder.

  Trick!

  If he didn’t get to Moss and warn him …

  “Jesus, dude. What the fuck is it with you guys attacking first?” Moss appeared before him holding the kid up by the back of his shirt.

  “Found your rodent,” Moss said.

  “Rodent? You so did not just call me a rodent, caveman.”

  Before Damien managed to defuse the situation, Trick jerked, kicked and somersaulted out of Moss’s grasp. The kid’s long black hair swung ferociously as he maneuvered his feet to the ground, gaining solid footing.

  “Rodent? Really?” Enraged, the kid moved quicker than Damien would have thought possible and flipped Moss squarely on his ass.”Rodent that, asshole.”

  Sure he could have stepped in. But the look on the big guy’s face when he careened into the earth … well, that shit was priceless.

  Moss bellowed an oomph and arched his back, bringing his feet beneath him before snapping upright again on two solid feet. Trick bowed over ready for battle, and Moss for the most looked plain bewildered that some young buck had just tossed him ass over end.

  “You’re going to regret that, runt.”

  “Yeah, bring it, geezer.”

  Damien couldn’t refrain, he roared with laughter. “Geezer. Damn but you gotta love this kid.”

  “You might be able to, but I think I cracked my tailbone.”

  “You know what they say old man … bones get brittle with age.”

  Trick still stood ready to take on Moss, which had Damien laughing even harder. Moss had to know the kid meant no real harm. If he didn’t, Damien doubted the kid would still be standing.

  “Trick meet Moss — Moss meet Trick. Now bow to your partner and do-si-do.”

  “Funny … real funny.” Moss snickered.

  “You guys ever thought of introductions before attacking?”

  Damien met Moss’s stare and shrugged. “Nope.”

  “So what brings you back to my lair, kid? Another message from Sir Asshat?”

  “Name’s Trick, not kid, and no.” The kid bristled.

  “Fine. Why are you trespassing on my turf again?”

  “I figured you’d want some information I uncovered.” The kid turned his chin up. He was a proud one, but Damien understood with great pride usually a great fall cometh to knock you on your ass.

  “Oh what information would that be? And kid … it had better be the truth. I’d hate to make you eat dirt.” Damien added, suspicious as to why the kid would volunteer anything to a virtual stranger.

  “About the jerk-off who wants your lady friend.”

  “And why should I trust anything you tell me?”

  Damien saw Moss lift an eyebrow. Knew the man wondered the same thing.

  “Because right now I’ve got nothing to lose, but you’ve got everything to gain.”

  Damien nodded for them to follow him. He’d take the kid to his chambers. Give him a chance to sell his spiel then make up his mind what he would do with the one person who seemed to have no difficulty finding and entering his hidden domain.

  • • •

  Grace finished her lunch in record time. She hadn’t eaten much the day before with all the chaos and … um, things that transpired with Damien. Damn but if that man didn’t make her heart go pitter patter and nether area pulse with need, all while giving her a freaking migraine.

  No matter how she tried, Grace knew Damien held back from her. Hadn’t fully opened up with who he was deep down. She sensed hurt, confusion and a huge wall of male pride. The latter b
eing the hardest to penetrate. Somehow she was going to have to jackhammer through that thick skull of his. Of course her plan depended on whether he was going to go postal about her shop and background. He might not even be planning to come back to her. May just send word about what he uncovered via Moss.

  Her cell broke out to a song with lyrics suggesting she get jiggy with it and she laughed, knowing Beth had diddled with her ringtone again.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Grace, what’s been happening with you lately?”

  Faith, her longtime friend and local historian of sorts was a dear buddy, but nosey. Grace suspected what was coming.

  “Not much.” Liar. Grace bit her lip, deciding whether to involve her friend. Of course if anyone could dig any black marks in the town’s records, it would be Faith.

  “Gurl, don’t you dare lie to me. Who’s the hunk you’ve stashed away at your cabin?”

  Boom. There it was.

  “Tell you what. We’ve been in need on a catch-up evening. How about I stop by after work and fill you in on my hunk … and I’ need a bit of a favor.”

  “Name your favor. It’s been so damn dry in my pants you’d swear it was the Sahara. I’d sell a kidney for some nice x-rated gossip.”

  Grace snorted into the phone. Yep, that was her buddy Faith all right.

  After the brief conversation about researching any mentions of secret organizations, Grace jetted back to the shop. That was the nice thing about living a small town life. Though the library would be closed when she closed Whimsical Notions, Faith would wait for her to get off and let her through the back door.

  As she flipped the door’s sign around and set her purse down, the realization she wasn’t alone slammed home.

  She tried to snatch her purse back, grab her phone and mace, but the thing flew from her hands and sailed across the room to hit the wall. The contents splattered across the floor.

  “Who’s there?” Scared shitless, Grace fought to keep the tremble from her voice, as showing any signs of fear was the last thing she needed to do.

  “I mean you no harm,” a small voice whispered. “I apologize about your purse. It wasn’t my intention to make a mess. Only to prevent you from calling for help. I promise, you won’t need any. I just came to offer a warning.”

  “Warn me from who or what?” Grace still couldn’t see this stranger. It was as if the voice came from the air around her.

  “The Society members.”

  “I’d love to learn more about them. Why don’t you show yourself and we can sit down and have a cozy little chat.”

  “I wish I could. But they would discover me, and in turn find you.”

  “What do they want with me? I don’t even know them.”

  “You do. You just don’t realize it. They think you are a threat to what they are. What they want.”

  “How on earth am I a threat to a Society I’m clueless about and don’t give a rat’s petunia over?”

  “Because you do care. Plus, one of their prime members has become what they consider a liability with his infatuation over you.”

  “Demetrius.”

  “Yes. He succeeded his mother, but they are not thrilled about it. He’s proven himself a weak link in their pristine armor. They worry you can destroy him and thus prove a danger to the fabric weaving them together.”

  “What do you have against this Society?” Grace wasn’t sure who this person was or how this woman, based on the high voice, had found her. She kept her guard up but something in the voice spoke true to her. She was inclined to believe what they were saying, even if cautiously so.

  “Regardless of what my lineage indicates, I believe in harmony. The Society believes in discord from which they can gain power. This must not happen. Can never happen.”

  “What do you mean discord?”

  “Do you remember the storm that swept through? The one that flooded the bay areas and sent many homeless? Spurned many into theft and vandalism? Chaos and madness ensued afterwards.”

  “The hurricane two years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “They caused the monster storm?”

  “Yes. And from the pain and anguish following in its wake, they grew strong.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  Silence.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” Grace asked.

  Silence.

  “Hey, you can’t stop in midsentence like that. Come back here.”

  “They’ve found us. I must go and so must you. Now. Hurry!”

  Shit!

  Grace wasn’t stupid and felt the crackle in the air alerting her to the change in magic. A powerful entity was approaching, and by the amount of energy swirling about, a dangerous one.

  She ran to her spilled purse and scooped up the contents as fast as she could and fled the store. She’d no sooner put the keys in her ignition when flames erupted within her shop. Spawned by magic rather than fuel, it took only seconds before her stores windows blew out and the entire building was engulfed.

  Chapter Seven

  Shards of glass flew into her side window like a hailstorm before a tornado, which this resembled more by the moment. The large flames approached her car like a menacing beast stalking its prey. She turned the key over and over and the engine continued to sputter and cough. Betty from the diner came running, and all Grace could do was roll down the passenger window and scream.

  “Get back! Call 911.”

  Betty disappeared back into the diner, thankfully oblivious to the fact this massive fire seemed contained to only Grace’s shop. Flames lapped at her car and roared from the roof, yet neither shop to the sides had even the slightest smoldering.

  Grace calmed her mind and focused her energy on the ignition. Willed the engine to turn over as her fingers twisted the key.

  Finally after what seemed like eons, the engine vibrated to life and she hit the gas. She’d call Betty and let her know what to tell the fire department. A report of any kind would have to wait. If these people knew about her, odds were they knew of Beth, too. She needed to get to her niece pronto.

  Reaching into her bag, she groped around for her phone, but the cool rectangular device had vanished. Pulling over to the shoulder she snatched the bag into her lap and tore through the contents. Damn, where the hell … Oh shit. She bet when she raced to gather her scattered things, she overlooked her phone. Crap. Well, driving to Beth’s would take longer than running to the library and using Faith’s phone, so Grace made a quick u-turn and headed back toward town. She’d no sooner pulled up to the ancient building when Faith came flying out screaming about her place being on fire. How the woman hadn’t fallen down the concrete steps of the building Grace hadn’t a clue.

  “Betty called me and said your place went up in flames and you almost burned up, too! Oh my God, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, but I need to use your phone.”

  “Sure honey, anything you need, but can I get you anything? Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine. Really I am. I must make an urgent call.”

  “Okay, follow me, but you need to fill me in on what the hell happened. You don’t even have a kitchen in the place.”

  How would she explain the unexplainable? People would need to hear what happened, but hell, she wasn’t even sure. Only knew magic played a large role. Grace supposed she could blame the coffee pot. Say the machine acted faulty and pray the good ole boys who volunteered with the fire department wouldn’t be able to prove otherwise. As big as the fire had appeared in her rear view mirror, she doubted much would be left to check at all.

  After warning Beth and getting the assurance her niece sensed no trouble and would head straight to the library, Grace tossed out her feeble story to Faith about the coffee pot and began pushing Faith whether she’d found out anything about the Society. She hated to involve her friend anymore than she already had and hoped Faith bought her second lie about needing the information for an article she was working
on about the town.

  Yah, Faith had pulled up information about some of the town’s elders. How rumor spoke many were close to the brink of financial ruin back in the thirties during the Great Depression, but out of the blue became prosperous. Many believed they’d made some pact with the devil as no one else during the time became as well off.

  “Does it mention how many had this run of good fortune?” Grace studied Faith’s expression, which turned serious as she recounted what she’d uncovered.

  “Not specifically. Only that over and over, select members of the town recruited their own to hold office in major areas of the town council. Of those recruited, they, too, would prosper seemingly overnight.”

  “But why would anyone even write that without some sort of proof? I mean, damn, I wouldn’t even begin an article about anyone in the same town I lived in without some sort of hard evidence.”

  “That’s what’s so mind boggling. I dug these out of a box I discovered the other day. The articles never ran. I researched the journalist who wrote them, and the only thing I came up with was how he vanished one day out in the swamps. His articles were buried and never taken to print.”

  “Where did you find the box?”

  “That’s the weirdest part. The box jutted out from behind one of the big wall cabinets down in the older part of the archives. I’ve been down there before, but not often. No one asks for the really old articles anymore. But here’s the thing. I would have run across the box before now. I’m telling you, it didn’t previously sit where I found it.

  “Maybe someone donated the articles recently?”

  “I wondered the same at first, but the box was covered in inches of dust. Enough that had anyone touched the edges at all recently, the smudges would have been visible. There weren’t any. From all appearances, the thing had been sitting there for years, and I know for a fact it wasn’t. Those articles wanted to be found.”

  Grace had to agree. The timing of discovery was rather odd. Maybe the voice who warned her maneuvered the thing out into the open? Stranger things were occurring by the second.

  “How old would the members be now? Eighty? Ninety?” Grace asked, running the numbers through her head. “Could any of them still be around?”