Moon Rise

by Marilee Brothers

  "Victorian,” I murmured.

  "Huh?"

  "Kizzy told me this is an old Victorian farmhouse. She said you can tell by the curlicue designs around the overhang and roof. ‘Gingerbread,’ she called it. And look..."

  I pointed at the second story. “See that round thingy hanging out over the porch? It's called a turret."

  "Don't see nothin’ but a creepy, old house,” Manny said, squinting through the darkness.

  The porch light was off and the curtains drawn, but strips of dim, yellow light leaked from three bay windows set to the left of a double door. Wind stirred the scraggly branches of a tall tree next to the house. Icy pellets of sleet bounced off the windshield. An eerie pattern of shadow and light danced across the front of the house.

  I reached for the car door, my heart in my throat. If Manny knew how scared I was, I'd never get rid of him. Just do it, Allie!

  I grabbed Beck's backpack, jumped out of the car and gave Manny a big, brave smile. “Thanks. See you tomorrow."

  He frowned and made no move to start the car. “I'll wait until you're inside the house."

  I flapped my hands like I was shooing chickens. “Don't be silly. Go! Go!"

  "Your mom know where you are?"

  "I called her."

  Not a total lie. I'd told Faye I was studying with a friend.

  Manny folded his arms and stared straight ahead. Okay, now what, Allie?

  I trotted across the lawn and up the creaky steps to the front porch. I pretended to knock then called out to Manny, “Somebody's coming. You can leave now."

  I heard the motor start but the car didn't move. The front door was unlocked. I opened it a crack, hoping I wasn't breaking some cardinal Bradford rule about front door usage. I slid the backpack inside, turned and gave Manny a merry wave.

  Yes! The car backed slowly down the driveway. When his lights disappeared, I closed the front door, walked to the corner of the house, took a deep breath and stepped into a pool of darkness.

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  Chapter Six

  After a few steps, I stopped, allowing time for my eyes to adjust. As I stood in the utter blackness, my other senses kicked in. Night sounds ... the hooting of an owl ... the sound of wind sighing through the trees and something else ... voices floating on the wind. A burst of high-pitched laughter. A deeper voice responding.

  Slowly, I began to see shapes as my night vision improved. The peaked roof of the house. The outline of a detached garage. A wheelbarrow and push lawn mower a few yards to my right. I crept along the side of the house, staying close to the shrubs. When I tripped on something and landed face-down in the dirt, my fear turned to anger. This was bull! I assessed my body for damage and yelled, “Hey! Turn on the lights!"

  I stood perfectly still, waiting for someone to respond. No answer. No lights. Muttering, I made my way to the corner of the house and stopped. A screened porch stretched across the back of the house, illuminated by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The dim wash of light extended only a few feet from the house, into a large grassy area. Beyond the splash of light, in the deep shadows, I saw something that made me gasp and dart behind a bush. I tried to comprehend what I was seeing, but my brain said, Does not compute.

  Two pairs of golden orbs floated above the ground, glowing in the darkness, moving toward me. Closer. Closer. Then, suddenly, they disappeared. I shook my head in denial. No way! I had to be hallucinating. Crouched behind my bush, I breathed deeply, trying to slow my racing heart. When I looked again, I sensed movement and sound just beyond the pale slash of light. Curiosity overcame fear. What was I seeing?

  I stood. Took a couple of steps and peered into the shadows. I saw the outline of two individuals, one bigger than the other. They kicked and spun, throwing punches, ducking and dodging in a blur of motion, faster than any mortal could move. The smaller person stepped away from a roundhouse kick before leaping effortlessly over the taller one's head. Not possible. Not humanly possible.

  The tall person whirled around and the two faced each other again, both inching toward the light. Could it be...?

  Before my shocked gaze, Beck and Nicole Bradford appeared in the light, eyes fixed on each other, engaged in a silent, deadly skirmish, with moves so incredibly swift and powerful they defied description.

  Nicole, dressed in knee-length exercise pants and a midriff-baring tee shirt, took a step back as Beck advanced. In spite of the weather, he was naked from the waist up. His shoulders were broad and gleaming with sweat, his chest and arms ripped with well-defined muscles. A pair of faded jeans rode low on his hips and clung to muscular thighs. Whoa! Where did this guy come from? The Beck I knew was lean and sinewy.

  Mesmerized, I watched the ritualistic pattern of advance and retreat, feeling the tension build between them, each waiting for the other to make a move. Nicole made a little growling sound, her lip curled into a sneer. Beck's face lit up in a savage grin. Caught up in their game, I was unprepared for what happened next. They turned and began walking toward me, their golden eyes glowing with anticipation.

  I didn't stop to think about it. Instead, I listened to the voice inside my head, screaming, Something's very wrong with this picture. Run, Allie, run!

  I'm pretty fast on my feet. Especially when chased by a set of twins with glowing, golden eyes who looked like they wanted to toss me back and forth to tenderize my flesh before throwing me on the barbeque. Never mind, I could hardly see my hand in front of my face, much less the various garden implements scattered in my path, I took off like the Road Runner pursued by Wile E. Coyote. Eyes fixed on the front of the house, I'd sprinted maybe six steps when ... Whomp! I hit a brick wall. At least that's what I thought. Turned out, it was Beck Bradford's chest.

  Steely arms held me tight against his body. Frantic to get away, I kicked and screamed and tried to sink my teeth into Beck's chest. Through it all, I heard the murmur of his voice, deep and soothing. In my panicked state, the words became meaningless, nothing more than garbled sound. In our struggle, I must have nipped him in a sensitive place, because I heard a grunt of pain followed by, “Allie, stop! Listen to me!"

  He released me and cupped my face. His hands were warm, his touch soothing. “You're safe here. We won't hurt you."

  A little hard to believe when you're standing in the dark and all you can see is a pair of glowing eyes. Make that two pair. Nicole stood behind Beck. As I calmed down, I became aware of my breathing. Each inhalation was accompanied by a rhythmic squeak. I sounded like a terrified mouse cornered by a cat. Very embarrassing. But, hold on! Why should I be embarrassed? I was the victim, here. Beck was the aggressor.

  I put my hands on my hips and glared up at him. “You know what! You're a jerk! First, you tell me to come over and get my backpack and, oh, be sure not to use the front door. Then, I practically kill myself stumbling around in the dark and see you and Nicole doing ... whatever you were doing. I have one question. Why? Okay, make that two questions. How? How did you get from point A, the backyard, to point B, here, so fast? Fly?"

  I stopped my squeaky tirade and gulped air.

  Beck took my hand. “I don't blame you for being mad, but I needed you to see what we are. Nicole and me. We're ... well, we're different. You're different too, aren't you, Allie?"

  Struck dumb, my mouth opened and closed, unable to formulate an answer. How did he know about me? Should I trust him? Trilby seemed to think so. More importantly, she thought I needed him to restore my missing powers.

  "Let's go inside. We'll explain everything,” Beck said.

  Followed by Nicole, he led me to the back of the house and through the enclosed porch into the big farm kitchen. A wooden table and four chairs were placed in the center of the room. Beck pulled out a chair and guided me into it. He turned one of the chairs around, straddled it and studied my face like I was a science experiment gone wrong.

  Nicole gave me a disinterested glance and turned to her brother. “Is that it? I've got stuf
f to do."

  "Stick around a while, okay?” Beck said.

  Nikki heaved a sigh but flopped down in the chair across from me. She ran a practiced eye over my outfit (jeans and sweatshirt) and my hair (wild, frizzy, escaping from a pony tail) before saying, “It was Beck's idea. I told him you'd be scared. Hope you didn't pee your pants."

  I leaned across the table and narrowed my eyes at her. After what I'd been through, I didn't need attitude from cute, little, I-can-kick-my-brother's-ass-without-breaking-a-sweat, Nicole Bradford. “I wasn't that scared."

  "Yeah, right."

  "What's your problem, Nicole? What have I ever done to you?"

  She glared right back at me. “Nothing. I just don't want you here."

  I shot up so fast the chair crashed over. “Fine. I'll get my backpack and leave."

  Beck took hold of Nicole's arm and gave it a little shake. “Come on, Nikki, Allie needs help. You know I have to do this."

  Nicole looked down at the table. I saw her lower lip quiver. “But then she'll know about us.” She pulled away from Beck. “This is the first time I've had friends. Cool friends.” She glanced at me then back at Beck. “What if she tells them about me? About us?"

  "She won't,” Beck said.

  Even though I was still ticked off, I was intrigued by Nicole's comments. I picked up the chair and sat down. I tried to focus on Beck's face but it was hard. Think about it. Me, Alfrieda Carlotta Emerson, sitting next to a hunky, bare-chested, totally buff Mr. Beefcake centerfold. A feast for the eyes. To hold on to my anger, I thought about Beck's little plan, how I'd played right into his hands. “Was all that really necessary? The mysterious note ... ‘Come at exactly 7:30 ... don't use the front door?’”

  Beck sat. “Yes, call it a demonstration. Now that you've seen what we can do, you're ready to hear the rest."

  He looked at Nicole and waited.

  She examined her nails then said, “We're Cambions."

  Okay, now I was really screwed. But no way was I going to let Nikki get the best of me.

  I nodded. “Oh yes, from Cambia. What's so different about that?"

  Nicole smirked and Beck fought to keep a straight face. “So, if you know so much, tell me where is Cambia located?” Nicole asked me. She looked at her brother and grinned.

  "Um ... I think it's in Eastern Europe. Oh, I know! It's one of those little countries with weird names like Uzbekistan or Herzegovina. Right?"

  "Wrong.” Nicole looked at Beck. “Tell her."

  Beck leaned toward me, his face deadly serious. “Don't say anything. Just listen."

  I nodded, silenced by the sudden pain in his eyes. He took a deep breath and began, “Nicole and I are half-mortal, half-demon."

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but it didn't sound good.

  Except for the beating of my heart, the house was quiet. I wondered if Beck and Nicole's mother was home and if she was human. I'd seen her at the diner and she looked human. Of course, Beck and Nicole looked human too. If their mother wasn't human, did that mean the whole Bradford family was a pack of demons? A covey of demons? That might explain Beck and Nicole's grandfather's suicide and subsequent so-called ghostly appearances.

  It was like Beck knew what I was thinking. “Our mother is human, our father isn't."

  Because I was embarrassed, flustered and in way over my head, I almost said something lame, like “Bummer.” I resisted the urge. Instead I glanced toward the front of the house. “Is your mother here?"

  Beck said, “She's with her critique group. She writes Christian fiction. You'll be gone by the time she gets home."

  I felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in my chest, and tried, unsuccessfully to disguise it as a coughing fit. When I was able to speak again, I said, “So, your father was a demon and your mother writes about angels? Anything else?"

  "For obvious reasons, Mom doesn't want it to get around she has half-demon children,” Nicole said. “That's why we had to talk to you tonight, while she's not here."

  Beck's gaze was so intense I had to look away. Nicole looked like she was spoiling for a fight. I assumed they were waiting for me to ask questions. Believe me, I wanted answers, but had no idea how to ask them without treading on half-human, half-demon toes. I especially didn't want to put their mother down for hooking up with a demon.

  Thankfully, Beck noticed my dilemma. “What do you know about demons?"

  "Zip,” I said. “I'm a newbie in the hocus-pocus world."

  "Demons are fallen angels who got kicked out of heaven for rebelling against God."

  Suddenly, I wanted to know the whole story. The questions burst out of me like water out of a fire hose. “Where did your mother meet your dad? Did she think he was human? Have you met him? Do you call demons ‘it'?"

  I knew I was babbling, but, really, I don't think the smartest person in the world would know what to say in this weird situation.

  Nicole gave me another of her superior looks. “You make it sound like they went to prom together. No, we haven't met dear old Dad. Demons don't stick around. They just like the baby-making part."

  Beck's face darkened. The black pupils in his amber eyes increased in size. “Our mother was in a convent in Northern California. She had a year to go before her final vows. But that all changed when she got pregnant with us."

  "Our mom is super religious,” Nicole said. “She'd never been with a guy when she entered the convent."

  "This demon, what was he doing hanging around a convent?"

  "Good question.” Beck said. He went to the refrigerator, snagged three bottles of water and returned to the table. He handed one to Nicole and me then twisted the cap off his and drank it down without taking a breath. He glanced at Nicole.

  "You want to tell her?"

  Nicole shook her head.

  Beck turned his chair around and pulled it up next to me. I could feel heat radiating off his body. “I swear what I'm about to say is true. The demon visited our mother at night. All she remembers is having a series of really hot dreams."

  He looked at me, but not with the knowing smirk I was anticipating. He just looked at me. “You know about those kinds of dreams ... right?"

  Flames licked at my cheeks, and I studied the tops of my shoes.

  Nicole snickered.

  "Yeah,” Beck continued. “But in her case, they weren't dreams. Three months later, she figured out she was pregnant. She left the convent, moved to Europe and had us."

  I thought about Faye and me and our constant struggle to stretch our money to the next pay day. “But how did she live? Did she have a job? Why did she move to Europe?"

  "She had family money,” Nicole said. “Then she started writing and selling books. Have you heard of the Hell Bent or Heaven Bound series?"

  "Sure, everybody has. But some guy writes that series."

  Beck shook his head. “She writes it under a man's name. Nobody knows but her publisher. She writes other stuff under her real name."

  The Hell Bent or Heaven Bound books were a huge hit, so apparently money was no problem for Beck's family.

  Nicole added, “We were born in Europe because she wanted to get away from everybody who knew her past. Five years later, she brought us back. She told her family she married a guy in France, that it didn't work out and she took her maiden name back."

  "So nobody knows the truth about your real dad?"

  "Now you know. That makes four of us,” Beck said.

  At his words, I felt the hum and whirr of gears meshing somewhere deep inside my brain. At some level, I knew exactly why I was there. We were “different.” Beck and Nicole and me. All the old feelings rushed back. Was I a freak? Who could I trust? Maybe Beck and Nicole felt the same way. Food for thought.

  Nicole rose. “I'm outta here. You'd better get on with it before Mom gets home."

  She grabbed a package of cookies off the counter and sauntered out of the room.

  "What's she talkin
g about? Get on with what?"

  He pulled his chair closer to mine, invading my space. Spooked, I fought the urge to shrink away from him. What's your problem? Just a minute ago, you felt sorry for the guy!

  Beck said, “Give me your hand."

  My hands were tightly clenched in my lap. Did I want to hold hands with a demon? Had I made a terrible mistake coming here? Wary and filled with doubts, I slipped into a familiar mode ... hostility. “Why should I?"

  "Don't be afraid.” Beck's voice was smooth, silky and seductive. He was so close, I felt the warmth of his exhalations against my skin. I'd thought I'd never stop missing Junior Martinez, but now.... Unwilling to meet his eyes, I studied the dark stubble on his chin. He trailed his fingers along the contour of my cheek. I shivered as delightful sensations spiraled outward from where he touched me, pouring through my body like liquid fire. His fingers settled around my chin, tilting it back until I met his gaze. The black pupils had grown larger still, with only a slight rim of amber showing. Unable to look away from the pools of darkness in his eyes, I felt my tension drain away. As if it had a will of its own, my right hand rose from my lap. He wrapped his hand around mine, the dry heat of his touch creating another firestorm of pure energy zinging through my blood.

  When I was able to speak, I whispered, “Why am I here?"

  His face was just inches from mine when he replied. “You know why. Your powers are gone."

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  Chapter Seven

  A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows, the sound jerking me out my trance and back to real time.

  Whoa! What just happened here? Was I really so screwed up I needed healing by a half-demon who probably wanted to steal my soul or, at the very least, my first-born child or whatever it was demons were always stealing in movies and books?

  I snatched my hand away. “How do you know my powers are gone? Who told you?"