Blood Moon_A novel of the Paramortals

by Livia Quinn

  The two reptile shifters were part of the remnant of a tribe that had been marginalized and largely banned from association with more civilized species. These were the kinds of "customers" the Moat didn't want and River could see their privileges being rescinded. Maybe he could speed up the process.

  "Were you speaking to me, Tertian?" He kept his voice even.

  The two creatures staggered forward to within a few feet of River though not in striking distance. So, they weren't quite beyond common sense. Wrong.

  As if they shared one brain, they looked at each other for a beat then charged River on the next, hoping to catch him off guard. He simply stepped aside and they slammed into the petrified base of the bar, one sprawling unconscious at his feet.

  River looked down at the older of the two, who groaned and complained about his hand being broken, and recognized his disappointment that there hadn't been more to the confrontation. He needed a distraction. A good brawl might have been just the thing.

  He stepped over them and moved to another spot further down the bar. The remaining shifters kept their faces aimed at their hands, pretending not to notice what was going on. Finally, one of them met River's gaze and nodded.

  River turned toward the bar and got back to his thoughts, in particular to the two women who were complicating his life.

  Tempe. He rubbed his hands over his face, wondering if there was a way for him to keep tabs on her without her knowing it. No, she'd sense him if he got near and then she'd want to talk. Instead, he'd have to rely on Jack, now that he'd been made aware of the potential problems.

  Tempe's pregnancy created a conundrum for River. What would Styx do if—when—he found out? He slammed his fist down on the counter and heard the crack of the ancient fossilized finish. He looked over at the bartender and wincing, slid a couple gold coins toward him. The man, who looked like an aging 70s rock star, even with his extra extremity, simply flipped them back toward him. "No worries, mate. The Isle heals itself. Morpheus, you know. Have another?"

  River shook his head, "No." He threw the coins on the counter and strode out through the tunnel, his mind on the redheaded warrior, the other complication. Why hadn't he asked her name?

  "Trouble, that's what she is. What made her think she'd be a match for a drag…" his words dispersed as he released his hold on the earthly plane and felt his dematerialized body melding with the currents in the westerlies. He realized he still didn't know exactly what his brother was, or was not. She seemed to think he was a dragonhunter. He was sure Styx had once been full djinn but his Qi was no longer evident, and yet River sensed a strong power surrounding him.

  He didn't doubt any attempt to assert his autonomy or investigate Styx's plans would be met with the slamming down of that proverbial steel curtain. If he kept an eye on the lady hunter maybe he could figure out how to make her goals work for him. Of course, that would mean helping her slay the only brother he'd ever had.

  He was surprised he didn't feel more conflicted since he'd longed for his family to be reunited. But he'd seen the total lack of familial affection in Styx' eyes when he spoke of revenge against Dutch and "our family." But did Styx want to destroy him and Tempe as well? The creature's hate-filled gaze and harsh voice flooded River's memory. Yes, he'd want them all dead. Anyone connected to Dutch. River was sure of it.

  He would have to be very careful how he handled things with the fae warrior as well as members of his family. It was like walking a high wire blindfolded while juggling a sack of feral cats. It had been like that ever since he found out about that blasted wish. Not knowing who'd purchased it from Elvis had been worrisome but not devastating. He'd imagined his wish winding up in the hands of D student at Destiny High wanting to be magically transformed into a valedictorian. Talk about naive. What do they say? Something about ignorance and bliss? Trouble was now he knew who held his collar. And he couldn't do one damn thing about it.

  He sighed and rolled his shoulders. Like any wish gone awry, it was pointless to wonder 'what if'. He had to find a way to deal with his brother. First, he must stay away from him. Styx couldn't command him unless he held his amphora or was looking him in the eye, even if he'd been able to use the Pomeroy mindlink. But the amphora wasn't in play, and River had blocked his mindlink from all except Dutch, which wasn't so much because he wanted to stay in contact, but because it was impossible. Luckily, he and Phoebe were out of the country.

  The redheaded warrior was hunting Styx. If he found her and followed her, a solution might present itself. It wouldn't do for him to be seen by his brother, so he would simply follow at a distance and track her from the wind.

  River smiled remembering how he'd set his fingertips to her wrist. For just a split second she'd gone still, her eyes focusing on something in the distance, but when he looked over his shoulder he'd seen nothing but other customers. Had she been communicating with someone on the outside?

  He rubbed his jaw, his hand tingling still where he'd touched her. Whatever her intent, she'd given him the means to track her movements complete with live video stream.

  He mentally draped himself in the remnants of her essence and allowed the air and other elements to disperse his being into the wind. He carried her scent with him, like jasmine and burning embers. Tempe had a similar scent sometimes—ozone—when she was about to call her lightning and the ions built to a crescendo. What kind of fae smelled like ozone? And why did she think just being skilled with a sword would enable her to kill a dragonhunter like Styx, whose immense power had been more than evident?

  In that moment, he might have felt a frisson of something he'd call concern but only if he knew her better. Maybe it was concern that she might screw everything up if she just stirred up the nest without taking out the hornet. For now, his hands were tied, but there was nothing preventing him from keeping a close eye on her movements to ascertain what was what.

  He closed his eyes and flew invisibly on the currents, locating her finally in the forest behind the Moat. What was she doing there?

  Chapter 13

  She yelled and River nearly fell out of the wind.

  River had believed she would head to Destiny but here she was crashing through the trees making no attempt to hide her presence—intentionally announcing it with each footfall. What kind of game was this? The fancy long sword was still in its sheath. Suddenly, a monstrous gray creature stepped from behind a palmetto thicket, pointed three steel-tipped tentacles at her face and hissed, "Go no further."

  It didn't move or dance about, confident in its ability to defeat the red clad figure that barely came to its belly button. No, that was its eye he realized when he zoomed in. He quickened his pace toward the clearing where the woman and the giant creature stood. As he got closer, he sensed its rising aggression and saw that she held her sword in both delicate hands. He was still too far away to be of immediate help and could do nothing but watch as the creature attacked.

  A splash of blood appeared on the skin of the woman as the leather on her chest split, but it was not a mortal blow. One razor sharp tentacle had slashed her chest. The rip in her tunic revealed blood welling from one creamy breast and pain split River's own chest.

  Stalled mid-air, River looked down, moved his hand to staunch the blood flow, surprised when he found none. His skin tingled. Her eyes rose to meet his, and if he wasn't mistaken… warned him not to interfere.

  She yelled and River nearly fell out of the wind. Efrit but the piercingly high tone made his ears feel like they were going to burst. A flurry of fish jumped from the lake and the monster actually paused to cover its ear holes. This left at least eight weapons against her two. The creature was far bigger but she was truly fearless and used the distraction to attack.

  She fought like a she-devil but the sheer number of blade tipped appendages were adding insult to injury with tiny cuts appearing on her arms, splitting the leather on her thighs and bodice. When one tip nicked her neck, River had all he could stand.

  He left
the currents, dropped unseen behind the giant and turned to smoke. Enveloping the monster's torso with his vaporous form, he sensed when the two fighters recognized the presence of a third. The monster stepped back and began to swipe at the mist, trying to dislodge it but River lengthened his form, trailing in and around the limbs to encircle the torso where it's organs beat beneath the skin.

  The ends of his mist twisted creating a tightly wrapped belt of energy. As he squeezed, his djinn became visible and the fae's eyes widened. She stepped back and watched his powerful arms encompass the creature's body as it thrashed and squealed, flailing its many tentacles to shake him loose.

  Thunder rumbled. She stepped back as lightning ripped the sky and flew like a dagger into the heart of the beast. It jerked and shook and then she leapt forward, snicking off its appendages one by one until finally, oxygen starved and oozing a viscous green fluid, it wheezed its last breath. River met her eyes and opened his arms. Gravity did the rest as the creature met the ground in a formless gray blob.

  They watched while it vaporized into dust, the limbs and blades turning into something akin to bark-less twigs. What did they call those things, earth dragons, dirt dragons? He rubbed his eyes. No matter, it was gone.

  River glanced over at the woman, at the bloody cut bisecting her breast and felt a tug of pain that her beautiful flesh would forever be marred. But as he stood transfixed the wound closed and the only residual evidence of her blood was a stain in a different shade of red on the snug leather of her bodice. Legs planted wide, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her, waiting for her to express her gratitude.

  Instead, she marched over to him and aimed her firm chin up at his face, hands balanced on her hips. "Of all the stupid, interfering, djinn-like things to do. If I had asked…"

  "There was no time to ask." His own chin jutted down angrily. "You were about to be rare monster-mush," River countered, eyeing her crossly from his greater height. The ungrateful…

  "I was baiting him; he didn't know my true nature. He was about to get the full breadth of my power, but I didn't want to kill him, you dunce."

  She was delusional. River's laugh boomed through the forest, making branches shower from the tops of trees.

  That didn't go over so well.

  At first, she seemed to be stunned by his laughter, then her eyes changed. They burned like embers. He thought, uh-oh, just before the air in front of him distorted with a sparkling energy field and he found himself eye to eye with fiery-red scales and the breast—so to speak—of a smallish red dragon, though still twice his height. He was mesmerized by the perfection and brilliance of each scale. Then her chest, which was mere inches from his face, heaved with what he assumed was outrage.

  He stepped back so he could get a full visual of her, his eyes trailing down scales that rippled like waves to her front feet. The giant claws on one foot, painted a brilliant, glittering garnet tapped impatiently on the ground. He chuckled as his eyes started back up, up…and finally arrived at the dragon's face, or snout. He figured she was enjoying herself when she lowered her jaw to give him a birds-eye view of her sizable mouth and razor-sharp teeth. They were impressive, he'd give her that.

  He moved in closer, feeling no real danger, then lifted his face to her narrowed eyes. She was probably wondering why he wasn't running for his life. He shook his head. "Why didn't you just show me what you are?"

  Her horned head tilted and she looked at him as if to say, Really? then her lids closed and she transformed back into a warrior, the essence of her dragon funneling down into the sword on her back. With her face and eyes still blooming with power, she stood before him like a statue, and his heart stopped. River had never seen anything so magnificent. He was attracted, intrigued, and impressed.

  "Who are you?" he asked before he checked his reaction and acknowledged the desire to know everything about her.

  She hesitated only briefly. "Cinder de Sept Flambe´. I am dragonfae."

  He'd heard that name before. "Flambe´. You're relat—"

  "I am Conor's sister. Now tell me what you did to that earth dragon? I had the situation completely under control, by the way."

  River harrumphed, "If you say so. I used some Tempestaerie magic on him."

  She frowned. "But you are Djinn."

  "My mother is a Tempestaerie and my father, a Djinn. My sister and I have some…blended power. Why weren't you planning on killing the variant? He wasn't so disposed toward you."

  Cinder looked off toward the forest. "I hoped he would lead me to the dragonhunter." Her head whipped around. "Is that why you killed him? Are you protecting this evil creature? If I find out—"

  "What, you want to eliminate me now?" River grinned, taunting her.

  Her eyes glowed. "Stay out of my way, djinn." With that, she flashed into the sky, her change so swift he was unprepared. Now he'd have to find her the old-fashioned way, like a hound dog, by her scent.

  Chapter 14

  You seem a little, I don't know…haywire?

  Ten minutes after Tempe left Gatorz she got a call from Freddie. She took a deep breath and reached for her cell, glancing around since it was strictly against the rules to be on your phone while running the route.

  She searched her memory for anything Freddie could have destroyed at her house since she'd left that morning, but gave up. Freddie was like an octopus in a tight space with a blown glass exhibit. He was Storm Lake's unhandy handyman, and for the last two years he'd worked almost exclusively for Tempe, and River when he'd been a contractor.

  Freddie's heart was pure. That was the only reason he hadn't been fired over his total lack of ability around tools. He'd destroyed two very expensive windows, wrecked her kitchen plumbing and almost dropped a tree on her house, and still she didn't have the heart to lay him off. He had aging relatives to support.

  "Tempe, how are you?" Freddie asked, his tone anxious.

  Tempe was momentarily taken aback. She was used to getting frantic calls from Fred about some emergency. "Er, I'm good. What's up, Fred? Are you still working on the back lawn?" The wide expanse of backyard at Harmony Plantation sloped down to the Forge, Destiny's supernatural energy source. The only thing Jack had tasked their helper with that morning was cutting the grass. Surely, he could handle that without cutting off a limb or running over the water hose or…Tempe stopped. Better not to brainstorm Freddie's ability to screw up simple tasks.

  "I'm finished with the lawn. I just wanted to call and see how you're feeling before I leave. And see if you need anything."

  Tempe's brow furrowed. What was this sudden preoccupation with her health? "Did Jack put you up to this?"

  There was a pause and Tempe was sure that was the answer, then Freddie said, "Huh? Put me up to what? Did he want me to do something else?"

  "Never mind. I'm really, really fine, Fred. Thanks for asking. Check with me or Jack tomorrow, okay? I know he wanted to move the portable shed when he's off, but I'm not sure when that will be."

  "Do you want me—"

  "No! Um, I mean, he wants to be there. He hasn't decided yet where to put it." Prevention. She'd learned that was half the battle with Freddie. "You have a nice evening, Fred. I have to get off the phone now."

  "Youuu betcha! Take care of yourself now, you hear?"

  No sooner had Tempe ended the call than her phone chirped again. She closed her eyes and sighed when she saw the caller ID. "Tempest Pomeroy, what are you doing on the cell while you're on the route. I should write you up."

  Her supervisor, Calvin, chuckled over the line. "Had you going there for a sec, didn't I?"

  Tempe looked around. "Where are you, Calvin?" And why was he joking with her? Normally he'd be riding her about the tiniest regulation.

  "I accessed the video feed of your onboard system," Calvin said. Tempe had totally forgotten about the video cams UMC installed in all their vehicles the previous month. It was supposed to deter illegal activity, insure carriers weren't holding onto mail or dit
ching it (both federal offenses), and ostensibly it would protect them from troublemaking residents and dogs. Turns out they made great spy cams, watching every move a mail carrier made. She wished she hadn't been reminded of the cam.

  "Well you caught me. Now what?" Tempe asked irritably.

  "Calm down now, Tempe. I think your hormones are getting the best of you."

  "I might remind you, Calvin, that there's a video cam recording those sexist remarks." Her irritation was building, blue fire crackling at her fingertips. She pressed harder on the brake and released her hands from the wheel, tucking her fingers into her palms to protect the interior of her truck.

  "It wasn't a sexist comment, Tempe, merely an observation. You seem a little, I don't know… haywire. Are you feeling okay?"

  "That's it! If one more man asks me if I'm okay, if I'm feeling all right, etc., etc. I'm going to blow." She didn't mean it literally, of course, but it could happen.

  "I was just concerned, no reason to get snippy. Now put that phone away before I write you up." Calvin sounded offended that she didn't appreciate his concern. It was just too weird. He hung up abruptly, leaving Tempe feeling cross. Calvin was right about one thing. There was some kind of erratic power fluctuation going on that she hadn't experienced in months.

  Even her aura reading ability was screwed up. She used to be able to read the auras of everything from living objects to the inanimate, even houses. Now, it was as if the world's auras had gone crazy. Just yesterday an ecstatic Janice, one of her friends at the mail center, told her the news of her husband's promotion, but Janice's aura hadn't matched her happy expression. Instead it had been dark and jagged, something that didn't fit Janice's perpetually sunny expression, which was why she'd earned the nickname, "Sweetie-Pie." She'd probably been off track reading Miranda's aura earlier as well.

  And Harmony, a place of restorative peace due to its proximity to the Forge was suddenly surrounded by a dark purple swirl that rolled and sparked like a mean thundercloud. Could she be sick? She'd have to ask Aurora since her mother was, as usual, out of pocket. She and Dutch were on one of those Paramortal disaster missions with Jack's parents.