Shadow of the Moon Box Set

by Mac Flynn

"What I wouldn't give to go to sleep and wake up at my apartment. . ." I whispered.

  Wishful thinking wasn't going to get me anywhere, so I tucked my legs onto the bed and closed my eyes.

  My nocturnal habits guaranteed I slept, and it wasn't until an hour before sunset that I woke up. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. One glance out the window gave me a good estimate of the time, and the clock on the nightstand confirmed it. I sat up in my wrinkled clothes and stretched. One of my hands got caught in the tangle of mess. That hadn't changed since last night, and I guessed I was stuck with it, at least until I got this curse off me.

  I found the bathroom down the hall and one of Quinn's combs. In a few minutes I was brushed and a little more awake. Armed with my newfound wakefulness, I glanced down he hall at Quinn's room. I walked down the hall and knocked on the door.

  "You still dead?" I called.

  "No," was the reply.

  I opened the door a crack and peeked my head inside. The coffin lid was still shut. "So are you going to tell me what I'm supposed to do tonight or what?"

  "You can wait an hour, Detective," he scolded me.

  "Sun allergy?" I guessed.

  "Something of the sort," he agreed.

  I closed the door and my stomach gurgled. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten, so I took up Quinn's offer and raided his fridge. He had a mix of the weird and normal. Milk sat beside blood bags, and there was even a chocolate cake and some vegetables. The vegetables survived my raid, but the chocolate cake wasn't so lucky.

  Quinn stumbled into the kitchen and caught me nibbling on the last bites at the kitchen table. His pale face was as white as a sheet and he moved with the agility of an old man.

  "I've been livelier cadavers," I quipped as he shuffled towards the bridge.

  He grabbed one of the blood bags and popped it open. The contents were downed faster than a tackled suspect. He dropped the bag into the trash and took a seat opposite me looking a little livelier than before.

  "That your addiction?" I guessed.

  "My morning coffee," he rephrased.

  "Uh-huh. So are you still wanting me to go through with this party or do we have a different deal?" I asked him.

  He smiled. "The deal is still on, Detective."

  I leaned back and opened my arms. "Then I hope you've got some plans for my clothes because I don't think these ragged things are going to cut it."

  "I might have something in my closet," he replied. "Come with me."

  CHAPTER 27

  Quinn led me upstairs to the bedroom he'd given me. He slid open the closet door and revealed a pretty wide assortment of elegant evening gowns. I stood beside him and turned to him.

  "You swing that way?" I asked him.

  He smiled and shook his head. "These are treasures from those women I particularly admired." Quinn took out a slinky red dress with a plunging back and neckline. Two stringy straps kept the dress from falling off its hanger. "This was from a very lovely young lady some years ago. She had an intriguing sense of fashion."

  "And a poor taste in men," I quipped.

  "That's why our relationship was short," he assured me.

  My eyes scanned all the different sizes, styles, and ages. "These better not be treasures from your victims."

  "I assure you they were all alive. When I left them, that is," he told me. He held the thin dress out to me. "Care to try it on?"

  I looked from the dress to him. "You've got to be kidding. I've seen more clothing on a tissue."

  "And you'll see less at the ball, but this might leave you the talk of the party," he told me.

  I frowned, but snatched the hanger from his hand. "I'm supposed to blend in, remember?"

  "You'll blend in just fine until you open your mouth," he quipped.

  I glared at him. "What the hell is that-" He pointed down at my hands.

  "That."

  I followed his finger and my shoulders slumped. My hands were back to hairy paws.

  "You have to learn to control your temper, Detective," he advised me.

  "Maybe if I didn't feel like slugging the company," I retorted.

  "Then I recommend you not talk to anybody and get the job done as quickly as possible," he suggested.

  I pursed my lips and jerked my thumb towards the door. "Out."

  "I could help you on with-"

  "Out."

  He held up his hands and skirted around me. "All right. Come out when you're ready."

  He slipped out into the hall and I slipped into the dress, if you could call it that. The flimsy piece of cloth was as near to naked as I wanted to get without being in bed with Shadow.

  I paused and frowned. "Seriously? You have to think about him right now. . ." I mumbled to myself.

  "Problems?" Quinn called through the door.

  "Plenty, and they'd be solved if you just gave me that disk," I returned.

  "Not yet, Detective. You still have that small errand to do for me," he scolded me.

  I sighed and completed the dress by finding some shoes at the bottom of the closet. They were heels, but by the grace of my new wolf agility I managed to walk in them. I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Quinn leaned against the opposite wall, but he stood at attention and his eyes swept over my body. I blushed and crossed my arms over my chest.

  "Not bad, Detective," he complimented me.

  "Say another word and I'll rip out your tongue while you're sleeping," I growled.

  He held up his hands. "I was merely admiring your feminine assets."

  "And I'm going to kick yours from here to the Pacific for making me do this," I snapped.

  "You're getting ahead of yourself, Detective," he scolded me. He pulled out the house plans and handed them to me. "This job won't be easy, and to be honest I half expect you to get caught."

  "If I do I'll put in a good word for you," I promised as I tucked the folded paper into my cleavage. There wasn't enough cloth anywhere else in the dress to hide a mouse.

  "I imagine you will, but my other half says you'll get out of trouble. You always do," he pointed out.

  "There's a first time for everything, but how about we skip the small talk and get this over with?" I recommended.

  "As you wish," he obeyed.

  Quinn led me downstairs and into the free-standing garage in the backyard. He opened the door and flipped on a light. The bulb overhead revealed a red convertible with black interior leather and a shine that hurt my eyes.

  "Your weekend car?" I guessed.

  "Strictly for business," he assured me.

  We hopped in with Quinn at the wheel and backed out. He drove us down the suburban roads and to the more upscale neighborhoods where the lawns were larger than most apartment buildings. Stone walls encased grand mansions in tight security, and more than one gate sported a guardhouse.

  I couldn't make out any details. The world sped by like a zoom blur on a camera. I held my hair down with one hand and gripped the top of the door with the other.

  "You have a death wish?" I yelled at Quinn over the whistling wind.

  "No, but I do have this immunity to it," he called back.

  "I don't, so do you mind slowing down?" I snapped.

  "Certainly, especially as we're here," he told me.

  Quinn slowed down and I noticed a line of cars at the open gates to a stone-and-wood castle. The vehicles were in the same class and price range as Quinn's, and sported people in dresses like mine. Quinn pulled into the lineup and we drove through the gates. A row of tall oaks led the way up a short hill to the castle. The house itself had three floors and a few towers. The stone walls were smoothly carved and shone in the bright blaze of lights that lit up the front entrance. People parked their cars and walked up the short path to the open pair of wooden doors. Valets took their vehicles to a large gravel parking lot fifty yards left of the house.

  "What now?" I asked Quinn.

  "We'll drive to the parking garage and you'll make your way to the house," he wh
ispered to me as we passed the front doors and drove towards the garage. "I'll wait for you there while you find a way inside, grab the vial, and make your way out."

  "Is that all? And here I thought it was going to be hard," I quipped.

  "Don't underestimate these people, Detective," he warned me. He nodded at a few large men in black suits who stood in the shadows of the house. "They and three dozen others like them are who you need to watch out for."

  "How the hell am I supposed to get even ten feet with that many guys around?" I snapped at him.

  "Your new abilities are more powerful than you know. Use them," he advised.

  We drove into the parking lot and found a spot at the far right close to the house. The garage itself

  Quinn shut off the engine and turned to me. "It's show time, Detective."

  I climbed out and glared at him. "If I get out of this alive I'm kicking your balls all the way down to the police station."

  "If you get out of this alive I will gladly agree to your request," he quipped.

  I turned my back on the car and hurried along the dimly lit parking spaces. A few temporary electric lamp posts were positioned between the cars and cast long shadows over the gravel. I weaved in and out of the vehicles and ended at the far end of the lot close to the house. There was twenty yards between me and some short bushes that surrounded the house. I also had to contend with a small, private army of men-in-black with headsets in their ears and dark glasses over their eyes. They marched to and fro in a pattern that didn't offer any holes. I'd have to pull off some epic Matrix shit if I wanted to get past them.

  Fortunately, I had some epic Matrix shit in me, and I was a cop. This stakeout wasn't new to me, but being on the other side of the law was. There were a couple of oak trees that grew a little too close to the house, and a small ventilation window on the roof that looked a little neglected.

  I lowered myself onto my hands and knees and crawled across the damp lawn. The point of my high heels stabbed into the grass and left little dents in the otherwise spotless carpet. I reached the closest oak tree five yards from me and ten yards from my target.

  The bark was smooth, but that wasn't going to be a problem. I held out my hands and concentrated. Long fingernails and claws emerged, and soon I had my only permanently attached climbing claws. I jabbed my fingernails into the soft bark and began my ascent into the thick foliage. In a few moments the lowest branch was reached, and I leapt up until I was even with the lowest part of the roof. The roof was made of shingles and slanted at a thirty-five degree angle.

  I crawled across the thickest, longest branch, and paused at the point where my body weight would have meant a hard crack with a harder fall. I hunkered down and glanced between my legs. The ground was fifteen yards below me, and so were the men in black. I crept a little closer to the house. My hand brushed against a small, dry twig that snapped and fell. I tried to snatch it, but the twig fell between my claws and dropped to the ground. The twig hit the grass just behind one of the guards. He didn't notice a thing.

  I took a deep breath and looked at the roof. It was ten feet away, but I couldn't risk another mistake like that. I stood and took my heels in my hands. I backed up, steadied myself, and sprinted forward. My instincts told me when to jump, and I sprang forward at the point where the branch became pencil thin. I flew through the air with the heels flailing in my hands and landed with a soft thud on the tiled roof.

  I stiffened and listened for the men beneath me to yell out some alarm. It never came. My sensitive ears picked up on their scheduled march. I quickly crawled up to the ventilation cover and used a claw to screw the cover loose. In a few moments I slipped into the attic.

  I'd made it inside, but the fun wasn't over.

  CHAPTER 28

  My new and improved eyes let me see in the near-black out conditions. The attic had a low, open-rafter ceiling and was filled with the usual attic stuff. Old, three-hundred year old furniture, priceless works of art worth more than the entire yearly city budget, a small forest of mannequins that sported ancient dresses, and piles of boxes that sported names like Ferrari Parts and Heirloom Jewelry. Just the usual junk.

  There was a hatch in the floor at the front end of the attic. I tiptoed along the attic and over to the hatch. The dust underfoot told me none of the black men would be up here, and they needed to hire some better cleaners.

  I reached the hatch and slipped my claws underneath the thin board. A quick tug told me why the cleaners didn't get up here. It was locked, and from the other side. My eyes caught on the hinges of the hatch, and I tiptoed around to them. I raised my clawed hands and pursed my lips.

  "Don't fail me now. . ." I whispered.

  I wedged my fingers into the space between the hatch and the floor at the center of the back of the hatch. The boards were thick and I anchored my feet beneath me. I narrowed my eyes and, with a single tug, tore the hatch and its hinges out of the floor. The destruction made a minor ripping noise that made me cringe.

  My sensitive ears caught a voice and some fast-moving footsteps. I quickly put the hatch down and stepped away from the hole. The footsteps stopped beneath the hatch and I caught a man's voice.

  "The sound came from here," he commented. There was a pause. "Yes, I see it. I'll check it out."

  My heart thumped in my chest and I looked around for some place to hide. A mannequin close by gave me an idea, and I hurried to my plan.

  I was prepared when the hatch creaked open and a man with dark shades peeked into the attic. He was a little surprised when the back of the hatch popped off the floor. The guard stepped into the attic and held the broken hatch in one hand.

  "I think we might have a problem," he whispered into his receiver.

  "Take care of it," I heard a muffled voice respond.

  "Yes, sir," the guard replied.

  He set the hatch onto the floor and pulled off his glasses. His eyes were a bright yellow, and it didn't take a forensic genius to guess he was a werewolf. He scanned the attic and slowly made his way through the closest mess of stuff. I held my breath as he came closer to my hiding spot.

  The guard reached the spot where I hid and froze. His lips curled back in a snarl as he caught my scent, and he lunged at my red, clean dress that stood out among the other old garb. He wrapped his arms around the flimsy clothing and squeezed the body tight in his grasp

  "Stay where you-" His order was interrupted when the mannequin's head popped off and dropped to the floor at his feet.

  I jumped to my feet to his left dressed in the mannequin's ancient garb and grinned at him. "Sorry, doll face, but you've got the wrong dummy."

  I swung a hard right that connected with the side of his face. He was sent sprawling into the furniture and his back landed on one of the shrink couches. His head lolled back and he slumped over the cushions.

  I slipped back into my slightly mussed red dress and covered the guard with the old garb. "Next time take a second sniff," I advised him.

  I didn't waste too much time on quips. The guards would soon learn one of their own was missing and go searching for him. I climbed down the stairs he'd kindly left for me and found myself in a long hallway that ran the length of the building. Doors lined either side of the long, carpeted passage. This was the third floor, and according to the floor plan Quinn gave me my objective was on the first.

  I closed the attic entrance, put my heels back on and hurried down the hall. The stairs were at the other end. My pace was just short of a sprint as I hurried to them, but even that didn't give me enough time. I heard voices and the sounds of several footsteps. I froze and looked around. No place to hide but the rooms, and I didn't feel like trapping myself in one of them.

  So I decided to play it bold.

  I rushed down the remainder of the hallway and met a pair of guards at the top of the stairs. They stopped and the lead one held up his hand.

  "Stop!" he ordered me.

  "Please help me!" I yelled. I stumbled into his outs
tretched arm and clung onto it. "Something's wrong! I saw a man go up there-" I pointed at the closed hatch, "-and I heard a noise, and the hatch closed and please help him!"

  The guards looked at each other and nodded. They rushed past me towards the hatch. I grinned and waved at them as I walked backwards down the stairs.

  "Thanks for the help," I whispered as I made my getaway down the stairs.

  Those were two lucky breaks, but I could still strike out on the third. The stairs ran down to the first floor. I passed the landing for the second and made it to the ground floor and the mess of people who came for the party and stayed for the alcohol.

  The ground floor of the castle-house was split down the middle by the stairs and the hallway that ran from its foot. At the front half to my right was the constant flow of people through the dining room near the stairs or the ballroom at the opposite front end of the house. The entrance hall took up the rest of the space in front. All of these rooms were open into the stairs hallway through wide, open doorways.

  At the far end of the back was the study with a connected two-floor library. Closest to the stairs and to me were the kitchen and two bathrooms the size of my apartment. That completed the elegant castle's main floor except for a patio out back that was accessed by two pairs of French doors past the bathrooms.

  The people were grouped into their familiar circles of friends, family and admirers, or they roamed the large dining hall and ballroom with an escort attached to their arm. I slowed my run to a walk and slapped on my brightest smile to blend in with the intoxicated crowd of silver-spoons and rich-nouveau.

  I hated to admit it, but Quinn was right. My dress fit in and a slid through the crowd like a ghost. That didn't mean I was problem-free. I had a bunch of problems that equaled the number of guests and guards. My sensitive nose told me all these people dressed in jewels and expensive footwear weren't just filthy rich. They were all werewolves. I could smell a hint of hair on all of them, and it didn't come from the real and fake fur they wore. Whoever this Night guy was, he'd invited all the wealthy werewolves to howling good party.

  I kept my calm and focused on my job. The plans for the house had pointed to a short hall that separated the lower floor of the library from the study. That was the only way into the study other than climbing in through a window or going through the upper balconies of the two-floor library. I spotted a pair of thick wood doors that led to the hall, and quickened my steps.