by Livia Quinn
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” Jack said. “Don’t let her ruin what was an extraordinary night.”
Tempe wondered aloud, “The date or the sex?”
“All of it. Tell me you’ll give us another chance.” Jack moved in to her, his hand cupping her cheek, “I need you.”
His beautiful silver green eyes stared down into hers. There was no smile, no prevarication, just sincerity. She smiled at him. It was the first time a man had said those three words to her, I need you. “I think I love you, Jack.”
His eyes crinkled then, the lines she imagined had formed during all those sorties, squinting at the bright sky, but now she knew they’d probably been put there from worry. He was a fine man, and she didn’t know how she’d doubted him.
She hadn’t doubted him really. She’d doubted herself.
“I know I love you, Tempe.” His face softened and he hugged her, then the intensity in his gaze was reflected in the prominent nudge she felt against her stomach. His mouth descended on hers and they briefly allowed themselves a kiss that seemed to answer any leftover questions, and promise more for later.
“I need to talk to Montana.” Jack rested his chin on Tempe’s head while his lower body adjusted to the new plan of action. “What did you call her? A Dinche? Was it my imagination last night or did she look like she was about to eat me alive in front of everybody?”
“She did look a little on edge there for a bit, but there’s a reason for that. She perceived a threat to the families she’s charged with defending.”
“Charged by whom?” he asked. He was the sheriff of the parish and knew most of the authorities around the lake and statewide.
“Zeus.”
“Ha! That’s a good one.” Tempe’s unique curses came to mind, but she wasn’t smiling. “You’re serious. Zeus? As in Greek mythology?”
“He’s not a myth.”
“So is that where your power comes from?”
She only hesitated briefly. It was a mark of how much things had changed between them that she just shrugged and smiled. “Pretty much.”
He blew out a breath scrubbing his scalp with his fingers, as if that would help him understand this world. “All right let’s table that for later, and go find Montana.”
Montana had been busy while they’d been outside. Fresh coffee sat on the counter and everything had been put to rights. Jack looked over at Montana who lifted her sword from its perch by the wall, and for some reason the color of her eyes when she turned struck him…
“The Denche. Tanker,” the Bentson woman had said. Thank the Dinnshencha.
He shook his head. “You weren’t by any chance at a domestic abuse scene on Saturday at 0300 where someone took out a wife beater in a rather unique fashion.” His eyes narrowed on hers, and on the sword. She rolled her eyes, tossed the sword on her couch and said, “I didn’t touch the guy.”
Jack smiled, “Ah, so you were there. If you didn’t kill him then you must have been the one sliding around in the blood.” She didn’t blink. “No comment?”
Montana’s gaze narrowed. Tempe looked from Jack to Montana. Jack said, “Good thing the victim had stowed her cat in the other room.” Finally, a tiny reaction from Montana.
Jack sobered. “Did you turn into a mouse because you lacked the power to turn into anything larger, because of the Para-moon?”
“Not exactly.”
Tempe said, “Someone want to fill me in?”
Montana said, “I was on a domestic abuse call and Jack responded. I had to change twice, the second time into something small and fast. Luckily Mr. Wildlife Lover here helped me escape. He might not have if he’d seen me in my gator skin.”
Jack asked, “So what happened to the abuser?”
“If I told you—”
“You’d have to kill me?” Jack hmmphed, “Heard it…”
“…not me, but someone else might.” It was obvious she didn’t intend to explain further.
Jack stroked a hand over Tempe’s head. “What’s happened to your hair? The coincidence?”
Tempe’s head tilted as she pulled a strand around to look at it, glancing over at Montana. “My hair?”
“Yes, the streaks are gone and your hair isn’t bright like it was. Do you feel okay?” His hand went to her cheek, and Montana restrained herself with effort.
“I think I can still rumble a bit,” Tempe said, her eyes narrowing on Jack. “Why?”
He turned to Montana, “Is your power gone?”
Montana shrugged and didn’t look at him directly, as if she didn’t want to give away her true status. “I still have some moves.”
Tempe asked, “But you can’t shift?” She didn’t seem to want to answer Jack’s question directly.
Montana breathed out harsh sigh, “No, I can’t shift but I can still fight, and as you can see I still have Mathilda, my sword shifter. For now, and, then… there’s my other side.”
“Other side?” Jack asked.
“Oh, right,” said Tempe, slapping her forehead. Montana nodded. Tempe turned to Jack, “Mont—”
“I’m part vampire.”
Chapter 10
Jack almost took a step back but as Dylan had said, Jack hadn’t thrived under pressure on a fluke, though his mind was probably replaying every vampire movie from Lestat to Van Helsing. He raised his eyebrows and blinked. “You mean like sucking blood, pointy fangs… how does that work exactly in real life?” He looked Montana over, searching for fangs and claws?
Montana gave a deep throaty chuckle. “Oh, Jack, you’re just too much fun. It’s not all bad. You’re seeing me during the day right? No fangs, no scalding or turning to ash.” She sighed, “My hereditary nature is Dinnshencha; I am a warrior, and I can still fight like one, with Mathilda or my body. I can no longer shift until the end of the Para-moon, but I’ll still be stronger than most men because nothing celestial or magical can affect my vampire.”
“How can someone be part vampire?”
“The majority of vampires surviving today were made that way by a bite, either voluntarily or involuntarily. Most, like me are a kind of hybrid. The change may have come about to save one’s life, or it could have been consensual as it was in my case many years ago. I chose that vampire for his strength of blood and mind. He complemented my Dinnshencha. Not all part vampires are created equal, ye ken?” She laughed at her private joke. Jack and Tempe looked at each other.
“Does this mean you’ll have to like… suck blood now?” Tempe asked. Jack’s eyebrows rose so high into his hairline, Tempe wondered if they’d get stuck there.
Again, Montana chuckled and kept her eyes on Jack, “Yes, I’ll have to feed.” Jack choked. She said, “It’s okay, Jack. I don’t need any of your blood.” She showed him some fang, her voice lowering to a husky rasp, “I have that taken care of.”
Jack said, “Look, you’re obviously starting to experience some repercussions from the Para-moon and it’s not even full yet. Does anyone know when the bad guys will come charging through the portal?”
Tempe and Montana stared at Jack. “I didn’t know you knew about the portal, Jack,” said Montana.
“You mean there’s… it was just a figure of speech, something I got from Stargate…”
She grinned, “Just messing with you, Jack. You’ll have to ask Aurora about the whens and hows and whos? My job is just taking care of them as they… come through the portal.” She failed to stifle another laugh.
Jack’s eyebrow lifted as if wondering about Montana’s mental stability. Tempe was worried as well. Montana’s sense of humor ran to sarcasm, not guffaws. “I guess I should take Tempe home and get over to Aurora’s.”
Montana used her sword to salute them and then, when they moved out of her way, took a stance against some invisible opponent and began dancing and thrusting.
Tempe looked out of Jack’s cruiser as he drove to Harmony. Should she tell him who had been at Montana’s? Dylan said Conor was most likely a good POP but how did they
know?
Jack said, “This thing has already started. I need more Intel. Who are the bad guys? Which good guys will still be able to… function?”
Tempe struggled for a way to explain. “Do you know what Samhain is?”
“Sal, when?”
“You’ve probably heard it pronounced sam hane. But either way, it’s a time in the fall, October 31st to be exact, when the veil between worlds is thin and um, spirits and mortals—actually, all beings—can pass easily between them.”
“Hmm, kinda like that non-existent portal we were talking about. But, this is February.”
“You’re getting ahead of me. It’s the concept I’m going for here. The Para-moon is like that, in the sense that because so many Paramortals lose their power during the coincidence between Luna and Cache, a power shift results. Many of our enemies feel free and somewhat empowered by their access to the world we protect, the people we protect.”
“As well as the protectors,” he said, nodding.
“True.”
“So what do we do? Turn over the town to the outlaw POPs like they did in the old West?”
“I hate to keep correcting you on the POP thing because the nickname for our enemies is growing on me. It does a nice job of lumping them together.” She caught him staring at her. “What is it?” She looked down, “I’m sorry for ruining the dress.” Tears welled in her eyes suddenly.
“Hey,” Jack said softly, reaching across the front seat to stroke her cheek. “The dress had its day. You couldn’t wear it twice anyway, right? I’m the one who’s sorry for not handling the situation better when G-crazy showed up. Don’t give it another thought okay?”
She nodded as they pulled into the driveway at Harmony. Jack got out and as she turned to slip off the seat, he sidled in between her legs. He ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders, then trailed his fingers up her throat to her face, holding it between his large hands. “That’s not what I was looking at, Tempe. I asked you at Montana’s how you’re feeling.”
She looked up into his concerned eyes, his bronze streaked hair brushing his collar, his official demeanor a thing of the past. “I’m fine. I just feel kind of tired. Neither one of us got any sleep last night.”
He frowned, “Can you tell if your powers are gone? Have you tried to call menori lately? I heard some thunder at Montana’s.”
She took his hand and led him toward the door. When they made it to the porch, she turned and concentrating, attempted to lock the doors on his cruiser. She squeezed her eyes shut, and finally she heard the thunk of the locks engaging. She swayed.
Jack scooped her up and walked inside. “I guess that answers my question.” He walked into the foyer and Tempe pushed the door shut behind them—with her hand.
“Put me down in the kitchen, please. I’ll make us a cup of coffee.” When he stopped, she slid down his body to the counter top, resting her head against his chest. “You’re about to get your wish,” she said, her voice muffled into his flannel shirt.
“What wish is that?” he asked.
“A completely human, completely ordinary girlfriend, as normal as I’ll ever be. Hopefully, I’ll still be here after the big switch goes back on.” His breathing stumbled briefly beneath her cheek.
“I have no wish for anyone ordinary, Sweetheart… or completely human. You’ve kinda grown on me. Why wouldn’t you be here?” He hoped his voice sounded steadier, braver, than he felt. There was a real chance he could lose her before they ever had a chance at more.
“Well,” her voice was soft, “Bad guys with power, good guys without… can’t be good.”
Jack had been thinking about the impending crisis, what did they call it? Chaos, what a name. How would he be able to fight off bad POPs with only a handful of human deputies? “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Tempest Pomeroy.”
He bent his head and set his lips to hers, his tongue entering slowly to caress hers while his hands stroked her back. It was affectionate, sweetly sensual and it promised his complete devotion and protection. She got the message, smiling into his kiss.
“What is it?” he asked, his head tilting back as he looked down at her. “Did I do it wrong?”
“I think you know your kisses dazzle me. I just can’t help but look back at how far we’ve come in such a short time.” She sobered. “I do love you, Jack, and I don’t want you to think if things don’t turn out—”
“Stop. I love you, too, Tempe, but I’ve been watching you and Montana, and I think the Para-moon is affecting more than abilities. I’m new at this supernatural thing but I’m good at detecting changes, observing. If I’m right, your emotions are being amplified, and your reasoning could be affected as well. So just do whatever you can to stay positive for me, okay?”
He kissed her again; this time it was a quick, hot suggestion of more than just devotion and protection. “Until later, Darlin’. I’m headed to Aurora’s. Why don’t you get a nap, and I’ll come back later and let you know about the big plan?”
Tempe’s smile disappeared as she watched his taillights go down the street. She didn’t seem to have any positive vibes left. Maybe he was right. Maybe the moons were to blame. She sat down on the couch and put her head back. In just a few minutes she’d get up and make that cup of coffee.
Chapter 11
Dylan approached the swamp listening for further cries or evidence of whatever had made the sound. He was absolutely sure it wasn’t Katerina. For the first time in many years feelings for a woman were stirring inside of him. Oh, he hadn’t lied to Tempe; he’d loved her in a way, but he realized now that there’d been a lot of feelings balled up in that situation—his affection for her having seen her grow up, his friendship with her parents, the protectiveness guardians feel for their charges.
He rolled his eyes. He was sounding like some kind of pervert, but in their world once someone went through his or her quickening, they were pretty much on their way to being old souls. Ancient beings mated with younger ones every day with no thought to how long they’d been around.
His feelings for Katerina were different. He wasn’t her guardian and yet he felt protective. They’d made love for the first time since he’d known her and it made him feel stronger, more willing to put his feelings out there. It was still too soon though as she had secrets she wasn’t willing, or didn’t feel safe enough to share. Then she’d tried to bite his head off like one of those insects that devours its partner after mating. Mating. That word held a bit more import than Dylan wanted to think about right now. Besides, it didn’t turn out too well for the insect’s better half.
If they all made it through the Para-moon he would have to persuade Katerina to tell him about her past and how she’d wound up in Destiny six months earlier.
Dylan’s eyesight, usually so preternaturally keen, was now only equal to a human’s fresh from the Lasix surgeon. Not only was his eyesight suffering, but he missed being able to divine almost everything with just his nose. Normally he could determine time of day, distinguish locations and track any creatures as easily as most people simply put one foot in front of the other.
He didn’t like this feeling at all. It didn’t matter to him that it had a limited time span. What could happen in a mere twenty-four hours made his bones chill just to contemplate. Unfortunately, that was part of his job as a guardian. Determine the worst case and strategize to limit the disastrous consequences, and protect the community and his charge from danger until power returned.
But his strategizing gene seemed to have lost its way, along with his charge-into-the-enemy’s-camp fearlessness. Contemplating going into the water to investigate that whirlpool action fifty yards in front of him would have been a Disney experience for him prior to this morning.
He’d personally experienced the last Para-moon, but as a child. He hadn’t gone through his Vyal K’allanti yet so the Para-moon didn’t affect him like it did others. He remembered though. His father had been killed during the power down by a varian
t who’d hidden in the guise of a human friend until the height of the eclipse…
Water sloshed against the bank and a low groan like squeaky hinges on a ship’s hull came closer. He waded into the water and dived while he could still feel a smidgeon of his power. Trained in under water rescue and possessing supernatural lungs, Dylan thought he could manage this even without being able to shift into Finrir. He hoped.
The soft gray light of morning filtered through the water with some areas being more cloudy than clear, probably due to the activity in front of him. He saw something large, though it might have been an underwater berm or fallen cypress tree. Scavenging underwater was second nature to Dylan and he rooted around in the muck near some cypress knees and tested the water depth by lowering his legs to the murky bottom.
There was about a foot and a half of sludge at the bottom and the depth must be around six or seven feet because it covered his head when he dug his feet down into the muck. He flapped his hands to rise through the water surface enough to get another breath but not to call attention to himself, if the creature couldn’t see him. He was sure now—it wasn’t Kat. Lions and water…
He saw the bulky shape up ahead and considered trying to change to Finrir, since that form took less oxygen, but now was not the time to wind up as a vulnerable half-shifted man-bear. He kicked and surfaced briefly, taking another deep breat,h but before he could dive he saw the deep fast-moving rush of waves and felt something bump against his hip, then clamp around his knees.
He clenched his mouth shut as he was pulled beneath the water’s surface. When whatever had a hold of him stopped, he should be able to get purchase on the bottom and force whoever it was to let him go.
But the whoever was a whatever, and its intention seemed to be to drag him down into the silty debris-laden bottom. He struggled to pull his legs free knowing his efforts would deplete his oxygen more quickly. The thing was strong.