Hounding The Moon: A Tess Noncoire Adventure

by P. R. Frost

  I stilled every muscle, every thought. Had I truly heard the soft voice next to my ear?

  Then I felt him, a warm, comforting, solid body curled up against my back.

  Another dream?

  I pinched my thigh hard enough to bruise. The old superstition proved true. My leg hurt and Dill remained.

  “Dilly, my love.” I rolled over, throwing my arms around my husband. Desperately, I wanted to submerge myself in his dominant personality, give over all the troubles and decisions to him. As I had when he lived.

  “Make it all go away,” I cried.

  “We can do that now, lovey. The imp no longer stands between us. All you have to do is renounce your vows to the Sisterhood of the Celestial Blade, and we can be together again. Just like this. Together we will be invincible.”

  He kissed me hard upon the mouth.

  I melted into him, opening my mouth to his demanding tongue. He held me tight. I drank in the touch of his hands against my back. Too long we’d been apart. Too long I’d been alone.

  “Where have you been, my Dilly?” I kissed him hungrily on cheek and neck and mouth.

  “Drifting, lost. Wanting you. Join me now. All you have to do is renounce…”

  Something in the desperate pressure of his fingers against my back sent warning tingles up and down my spine. The fine hairs in the small of my back stood straight out.

  His hands were cold as ice. Literally. Cold enough to burn through my sweater and cotton shirt. The place on my neck where his tongue made enticing circles just beneath my ear was cold and dry. Not the cold of chill air touching a wet spot. It was the ice of another world.

  “Don’t pull away from me, Tess. Please,” he pleaded.

  I pulled my head back enough to look into his deeply shadowed eyes.

  “I can’t bear it if you reject me just because I’m dead, Tess.”

  That sentence chilled me more than his touch.

  “What is this about, Dill? Why now? Why didn’t you come to me three years ago when I cried myself into a fever in my grief?”

  “I wasn’t offered the deal until now.” His gaze dropped away from my face.

  I lifted his chin with one finger. His skin felt dusty and fragile, as though if I pressed too hard it would slough off like the layers of a fine pastry.

  “What deal?”

  “If you get rid of the imp and renounce your vows, you and I can be together. Forever. I get out of limbo. You won’t be alone anymore.”

  In other words I had become a threat to some…

  thing since surviving the imp flu and acquiring Scrap.

  “I can’t trust that kind of deal, Dill. I’m sorry. But you are dead. Giving you life again is… wrong. There aren’t any ‘get out of jail free’ cards once you’re dead.”

  “But I’m not dead, Tess. Not completely anyway. Can’t you feel how alive I am? It’s the imp. He’s tricked you into thinking I’m dead.”

  “You died in my arms, Dill. You said you loved me with your dying breath. I held your body until it grew cold. I buried your ashes in the pioneer cemetery in Alder Hill.” I choked on a sob. This was it. I had to finally admit to myself and to the ghost of my husband that Dill had died.

  I traced the lines of his face lovingly one last time.

  “Good-bye, my love.”

  Resolutely, I turned my back on him and closed my eyes. The solid presence evaporated.

  I took one last tear-filled glance over my shoulder. A man-shaped column of black mist drifted away and passed through the solid cement block walls.

  This isn’t the end, Tess. I won’t let you get away from me. Ever. You’re mine in this life and the next.

  I awoke with a start near midnight as the watch changed.

  I shuddered in memory of the all-too-real nightmare. As I shifted position, the new bruise on my thigh reminded me of every last touch and word of Dill’s visit.

  New loneliness and despair opened holes in my soul.

  A band of Sasquatch had taken me hostage. Imp’s bane kept Scrap from my side and made him drunk. I was on my own with little hope of seeing tomorrow, let alone living out the rest of my life.

  Maybe I should have taken Dill’s offer.

  But that grated on every nerve and scruple I had.

  New supplies of pizza and beer arrived with the change of guard. A repeat of lunch. Couldn’t these guys find some steak or tacos or even peanut butter and jelly?

  Would a glass of water or cup of coffee kill them?

  My bad mood and headache returned. I tore the comb out of my hair, bringing a handful of crystalline strands with it.

  Immediately, the room dimmed, colors faded. The boys looked like normal boys. The aura of fur, talons, and teeth became echoes of my former vision. After a few minutes they faded altogether.

  But my headache didn’t.

  I stuffed the comb back into my hair. Everything brightened and the auras came back.

  So that was the magic of the comb. That was why I’d felt the chill of the grave in Dill’s touch and seen it in his eyes.

  I couldn’t wear the blasted comb all the time because of what it did to my hair and scalp.

  I stuffed it back into my pocket. I knew these guys for what they were now. I didn’t need it.

  Now that I knew what to look for, how would Donovan appear with my vision cleared of demon glamour?

  “Any news?” Gregor asked the newcomers. I hadn’t seen Gregor take a watch yet. Maybe he was the leader.

  “All quiet out there. Marines, SWAT, and press still camped just outside the fence. A lot less press. The news is absolutely quiet after one mention of our demands. Heard one of the Marines say they’d put a clamp on coverage,” the underling replied.

  Gregor cursed long and fluently in his own demonic language. Then he cast me a malevolent glare.

  After the meal we dispersed to our separate nests again.The boys slept as if they were just normal teenagers, sleep, eat, eat, sleep, occasionally take responsibility for a watch, nothing more, nothing less. If they’d had video games, a few would probably zone out on those, taking breaks only to eat, sleep, and take a turn at watch.

  I have a very low boredom tolerance. I’d reached mine several hours ago. I tried calisthenics until Kaylor yelled at me to quiet down.

  Another day passed without change. Was this the second or third? I’d lost track. More pizza and beer. I wanted coffee. I needed coffee.

  I feared for how Scrap managed without me.

  I feared for how my mother reacted to Gollum’s phone call.

  I feared I might go insane.

  I kept the fire going with the piles of brush the boys brought in and an occasional braid of imp’s bane. Couldn’t burn it all at once in case they noticed. It was something to do and dispelled some of the autumnal chill settling into the room.

  Hey, babe, I’m drunk and you’re hungover! Scrap’s voice came through the thickness in my brain. And our best friend is a bat named Morris. A mighty cute bat at that. We might get somthin’ goin’.

  I rolled my eyes at his rambling. “How can I have a hangover and you don’t? You can’t get drunk unless I get drunk, and I’m not drunk.”

  Great, just what I needed. A drunken Celestial Blade when I was going to need it most.

  Who cares. Whoee!

  I sensed a rush of movement like riding a roller coaster.

  The vertigo made me stumble. I caught myself just before I stepped into the fire.

  The imp’s bane burned brightly. That must be it. The stuff that kept my imp away from me made him drunk.

  Either the plant combination or the separation gave me all the symptoms of a hangover.

  Yuck. I went back to my corner and tried to sleep.

  Then, around noon, the watch changed again, and new supplies of pizza and beer arrived along with my laptop.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I gushed all over the young demon who carried the black sanity saver under his arm. “And the flash drive, too!
You are wonderful.”

  I kissed the boy’s cheek, and he blushed a bright purple.

  I fell upon the computer with a vengeance, totally ignoring the greasy aroma of fresh tomato sauce and cheese with too much garlic in the sausage and pepperoni.

  Not a vegetable in sight.

  Idly, I munched on a piece of lunch while I plugged the thing into the only outlet I could find. The boys didn’t really need the microwave. Then I booted up the computer. Within minutes I was so absorbed in writing that I didn’t notice the beer shoved into my hand or the second piece of pizza someone handed me.

  My conscious brain remained paranoid enough that I set the computer on automatic backup every five minutes.

  That way, if the power blew, I’d still have most of my work. No telling how reliable the electrical source was coming from the other side.

  Twenty pages and several hours later I came up for air. My watch said midnight. Not a demon was stirring.

  I got up from my blanket and packing crate and began to prowl and stretch. The pizza was cold, but the microwave took care of that once I switched plugs.

  The beer was warm but there was more in the fridge. I wandered around the warehouse of a room inspecting my captors for more individual characteristics. True to type they were all leanly muscled, well beyond medium height for human males.

  I stuck the comb into my hair for a moment.

  Their skin and hair colors… At first glance their skin ranged from palest Nordic Caucasian to the dark olive of the Mediterranean, with a suggestion of Negroid in a couple of them. Upon closer inspection I saw that they had no beards. By this time all of them should have needed a shave. We had basic plumbing and most of them showered and used the toilets—utilities purloined from the underworld. But I’d never seen them shave. What I saw as skin was actually a light fur, mottling from cream to black.

  Not human. I had to remind myself that none of these “boys” was human. They were demons, unpredictable, probably violent.

  I backed off from my inspection of Gregor and stumbled over a clump of plants. The imp’s bane. It had begun to wilt and lose its brightness. What did these guys expect? They hadn’t watered the stuff.

  I threw the wilting branch into the fire. It burned rapidly.

  Several more of the bunches joined it. I left enough scattered around so my current depletion of it wasn’t too obvious.

  Time for a snooze.

  Chapter 34

  A drug company has recently patented a new blood thinner called Draculin, developed from research on natural anticoagulants in vampire bat saliva.

  “HEY, LOOK WHAT we found!”

  I woke up, still groggy, headachy from the lack of caffeine and fresh air.

  And from Scrap’s absence.

  The boys gathered around the watch change near the back entrance to the warehouse.

  I checked the laptop and pocketed the memory stick out of habit before rolling to my feet.

  The ebb and flow of bodies changed enough to reveal a smaller figure huddled in on itself in the center.

  “Leave her alone!” I screamed, dashing forward. I ripped young men out of the pack until I could wrap my arms around Cynthia Stalking Moon.

  “Out of the way, bitch. She’s fair game,” Kaylor snarled.

  “She’s too young for you, Halfling,” I sneered back at him. The fine hairs along my spine stood on end. Scrap was close and ready for a fight.

  Kaylor’s eyes morphed to yellow with a vertical slit. His fingers elongated and grew horny nails. His mouth and nose grew into a long muzzle with way more teeth—very sharp teeth—than most primates had. His posture crouched and his paws brushed his knees. Black fur shone through the brown glaze on his head and on his body.

  Cynthia screamed.

  I slapped the demon’s muzzle. What else do you do with a beast that refuses to obey?

  Startled, Kaylor sloughed off some of his demon aspect.

  For half a moment a bewildered teenager stared at me.

  “We don’t take women below the age of consent,” Gregor snapped at Kaylor.“That’s the rules. Good rules. They keep us safe.” He elbowed his way to Cynthia’s other side.

  “Take the kid over to your nest and keep her there,” he hissed at me.

  His clenched fists and authoritative attitude kept the beasts at bay. For a moment. Long enough to drag a sobbing Cynthia over to my corner.

  Halfway there I kicked another bundle of imp’s bane into the fire.

  The demons were too busy snarling and snapping at each other to pay attention.

  “How did this happen?” I whispered to Cynthia the moment we had an illusion of privacy.

  “I don’t know,” she wailed, clinging to me. Fat tears slid down her cheeks and made her dark eyes look overly large and bruised.

  “Where is Sapa?”

  “I don’t know.” She buried her face against my chest, fists wrapped in my sweater as if she clung to a lifesaver.

  Maybe I was a lifesaver for her. I had to be. No one else was left.

  “Let’s just sit here for a while and think this over while we calm down.”

  The demons began to circle us. Feral. Hungry. Growing bolder by the minute.

  “Back off, boys,” I ordered.

  They paused in their cautious circling. But only for a moment.

  “Hey, she unplugged the microwave for her stupid laptop!” Kaylor snarled. He ripped the wires from the outlet.

  He held them up and ripped the plug free of the connection with a twist of his large hands.

  I swallowed the gibbering fear that wanted to climb out of my throat into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

  “Into the corner, Cynthia. Stay right by me.” Cautiously, I moved us to a place where walls protected our backs.

  “Scrap, you available yet?” I kept my eyes on the Kajiri.

  They took on more and more aspects of their demon nature, the Sasquatch of legend. But more deadly than imaginable.

  Not yet, babe. Getting there.

  Shit. No weapon but myself, and a little girl to protect.

  From rape. Or worse. From being eaten.

  Tall cement block walls comforted me where I could feel them behind me. A smaller flank to defend and protect.

  Cynthia still sobbed.

  Kaylor edged closer. He kicked my laptop aside. The machine crashed into the wall. The case split down the lid.

  Another demon jumped on it until it shattered.

  “Now that makes it personal,” I snarled. Boiling hot anger replaced the sinking emptiness in my gut. At least I had the flash drive to continue the project.

  Provided I lived through the next ten minutes.

  Kaylor laughed and dropped all pretense of humanity.

  I kicked his snout with the heel of my boot. Then stomped upon his foot. They get the nickname “Bigfoot” for a reason.

  He backed off, snapping and snarling.

  A second demon lunged for my throat. I twisted and hit his chest with my shoulder. The jolt raced through my body. My head ached and my left arm went numb.

  He landed heavily and yipped.

  Before I could catch my breath another dove for my leg. He grabbed my calf in massive jaws and sank in his long teeth.

  Green saliva burned through my jeans to my flesh, like acid in chem class, only worse. My leg threatened to crumple. Already weakened and off balance from the shoulder, I knew I’d not last long with six demon bigfoots ready to attack.

  “Forget the bitches. I found something better,” the youngest of the pack announced from the main doorway.

  The demons turned their attention toward him—all except the one worrying my leg.

  I slammed the side of my hand across his spine, just behind his head. He let go.

  We both stepped apart, nursing our hurts.

  Cynthia gulped and clung to my belt loop. The small warmth of her body cowering in the corner eased my heavy breathing.

  Then we looked to see what
had distracted the demons.

  The young one held up the raggedly severed head of a man by his long black braids.

  A look of horror and pain was frozen into the tired face. A harelip scar split open.

  Fresh, bright blood dripped onto the floor where it pooled and spread.

  “Uncle Leonard,” Cynthia whispered through a new spate of tears and choking sobs.

  The smell of blood filled the warehouse.

  Two dozen demons gathered around the boy with the head, drooling green ichor as they licked at the dripping blood.

  I gagged and nearly lost two days’ worth of greasy pizza and beer.

  Chapter 35

  Spectral vampire bats make a purring sound when held.

  “THE BODY IS OUTSIDE. We got fresh meat for dinner!” the boy chortled.

  All of the demons surged out the door.

  “Come on, Cynthia, we have work to do to get out of here.” I grabbed her by the hand and limped toward the nearest clump of imp’s bane. Damn, that leg hurt. I needed Scrap to lick it before the boys returned and I had to fight. “Gather up all of these and throw them in the fire. Quick.”

  She stood beside me paralyzed with fear and shock.

  “Move, kid, or we die with your uncle.” I slapped her face just hard enough to get her attention.

  Her big brown eyes teared. She gulped but nodded.

  We ran, well, she ran, I had to drag that leg, about the huge room, collecting the bundles of twined mistletoe, holly, and ivy. Dozens of them. And I had already destroyed dozens. What had the stuff done to Scrap?

  My plodding footsteps drowned out the sound of two dozen demons slurping and slathering over the dead body of a man who deserved more respect and honor in his death than this.

  I cast the last bits of trailing ivy leaves into the fire just as Gregor wandered back into the room, back in human form. He wiped blood and flesh off his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Even he, the leader and most reasonable of the pack, was not immune to his nature when presented with a fresh kill.

  “You will be the first of your kind to die.” I snapped my fingers. Scrap appeared on my palm, already half extended into the Celestial Blade.

  “Can you help the leg first?”