MisStaked

by J. Morgan

  "We're one guy shy, but I'm game. Let's get some Mexican,” Stud said, cheered by the thought of food.

  "No way. There is no way I'm getting on a bus with you for twelve hours after you've eaten a chimichanga—or ten,” Breathred stated, firmly.

  "Then, what do you wanna eat?” Stud snapped. “And if you mention anything having to do with tofu, I'm slapping my banana in yo’ mouth."

  "Look, Stud can we get serious? Do you think we're ready for all this? Luna isn't here, so I want your true opinion,” Breathred said, as they crossed the street.

  "I don't know. We got the skills, but this isn't Resident Evil. We'll be doing this for real. That's enough to make me say, Hell no. But, Breathred, you've got something going on here that changes all that. I saw you when you were fighting those vamps at the mall. That was real, you know what I mean?” Stud paused. “If you'd asked me last week, woulda been running for the hills. Today, I think we got a shot at this."

  "You mean it?"

  "Yeah, but we got to do this as a team. That's the only way we can make this work—the three of us against them,” Stud added.

  "Then, Mexican it is.” Breathred's tears drowned the corners of his eyes.

  * * * *

  Luna couldn't believe she had been sitting here for two hours listening to this man pour his soul out to her. In the past two hours Uncle John had said more than she had ever remembered him saying in the entire time she had been around him on the reservation.

  Listening intently to his every word, not because she was being polite, but because she truly wanted to hear his story, Luna sat like a statue. This was something he needed to say. John, or Joan, wasn't trying to excuse himself for being what he was. He was just trying to relate the story of his evolution from the man he had been, to the woman he had been born to be. There was no way Luna would have poo-pooed any of it. She had too much respect for her uncle to do that.

  John finished and looked at her for some sort of response. Despite the mascara and glitter that adorned his cheeks, his eyes were still those of the John Prancing Elk she remembered. Her initial concerns were gone. He was still the man, or rather the woman, to help her.

  "So, momma, knew all along?” she asked, when he finished.

  "She was the only one. Your mother was the only true friend I could turn to. I'm sure the others suspected, but she was the only one I dared confide in,” he admitted.

  "Well, now you have me.” She patted the back of his hand. “But what should I call you? John isn't right after what you've told me."

  "Thank you for that, Luna.” John reached up wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “And you can call me Uncle Joan, all the girls do"

  "Alright, Uncle Joan.” Luna let the name settle into her mind, finding it fit nicely there. “But how come mom never told me? She gave me your address, but that was it.” She wondered what else her mother hid from her.

  "That was my fault. She called me right before you moved to Seattle and asked me to watch out for you. I've been to the place you worked once a week to make sure you were doing all right,” Joan said, a smug look on her face.

  "I never even saw you,” Luna said in surprise.

  "But I saw you,” Joan answered. “And the young man, who you've latched onto."

  "That's kinda why I came to see you."

  "Explain. I'm always up for a bit of girl-talk."

  "The talisman my mother gave me is starting to give me trouble. Last night I felt Coyote's call. The talisman should have blocked it completely, but it didn't,” she explained.

  Joan eyed her suspiciously. She pulled a feathered pen from her purse. Mumbling under her breath, the big woman passed the pen over Luna's head. After three passes she set it down and took Luna's face in her massive hands. Staring straight through to the soul, Luna knew her uncle had found out what was wrong.

  "Your aura is shifting. It is unbalanced. That is what's interfering with the talisman's power.” Joan peered into her eyes. “All the signs point to one thing being the cause. What is this young man to you?"

  "He's my life mate, though he doesn't know it yet,” she said, proudly.

  "Then, that's it. The emotions of the bonding are blocking the power of the talisman,” Joan said with a flourish.

  Luna pulled the talisman from her shirt. “Is there nothing you can do?"

  "I must attune it to this new phase of your life. It should be relatively easy to fix. Do you by any chance have something belonging to your potential mate?” Joan took the leather bag from Luna.

  "Do I look like someone who would carry something like that around?” Luna asked, indignantly.

  "Honey, you got stalker written all over you. Now, give."

  "Okay.” Luna pulled a lock of hair from her purse.

  "Before I do this ... are you sure this man is the one? This is a serious matter, not to be trifled with. If I bind this man to your spirit self, he will always be a part of you, even if he chooses not to be the man you want him to be. After saying this, do you still wish to go forward?” Joan Prancing Elk asked, her eyes peering into Luna's with all seriousness.

  "To do less would deny what I know to be true."

  "Good, I hoped you'd say that. I do hate people who are wishy-washy when it comes to true love. You're either all in, or not in at all.” Joan beamed. “Now tell me, is he worth it?"

  "Joan, he's more than worth it."

  "Then let's get to it."

  Luna sat patiently while Joan delved into the spirit world and tapped its magic. The silent workings fascinated her, just like they had when she was a small girl at her mother's knee. The oneness of it all held her rooted to her seat. Luna knew one day she too, might call this world hers, but that was many years away. Her path was in the modern world. Until that time came to pass, she was content to sit back and watch.

  Joan finished the last of the magic and closed the bag. Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, she handed it back. Luna looked grave and placed it around her neck.

  "It's ready to go?” The bag felt different, heavier somehow.

  "Would I give it back, if it wasn't?” Joan joked.

  "You don't know how much this means to me,” Luna said. “This was the only chance I had to get it done before I left for Canada."

  "Why the hell would you want to go to Canada? Why would anybody for that matter?"

  "Well, Breathred and I have this mission,” Luna explained.

  "Like De Niro?"

  "No, we have to stop some vampires from raising their queen from the dead, so they can take over the world.” Luna hoped it didn't sound as crazy to Joan as it did to her.

  "Hold it a minute. Did you say Queen?” Joan asked, excitedly.

  Luna giggled. “Not that kind, Girlfriend."

  "Didn't think so, but it never hurts to dream. This all sounds a tad bit dangerous. Do you think you should be doing this? I mean, your mother would kill me if something happened to you."

  "I'll be all right. I'm a big girl now, Uncle. Besides, somebody has to look after my Breathy,” Luna said, confidently.

  "Okay, but if you need my help, here's my card. It has my cell phone number on it. So, you can reach me anytime, night or day. Understand?"

  Luna took it and accepted his question for what it was—an order. She was happy to know Joan was there if they needed him. It was always good to have an ace in the hole. It wasn't that Luna thought they needed one but you never knew. Get real. They needed all the backup they could get.

  Putting the card into her purse, Luna looked at the woman who had been her uncle. Under the makeup and faux weave was the man who had taught her to fish and ride a horse, even if the horse had only been the one in front of the reservation store and took a quarter to get moving. Despite all these changes, Joan Prancing Elk was someone Luna could depend on and was twice the woman she'd ever been as a man. That meant a lot.

  "You got it, Uncle Joan,” she smiled.

  "Now, get out of here, before the straights think I got me a new b
oyfriend.” Joan stood up and straightened her wig, which had slipped to the left while she was working. “It's already getting dark."

  "Oh, damn!” Luna exclaimed. Breathred was going to kill her.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Eighteen

  If it was easy to slay vampires, would you have bought this book in the first place?

  Leopold had decided he wouldn't worry about anything tonight. A good day's sleep had put him in an especially exuberant mood. His hair was doing exactly what he wanted it to do. And if that wasn't good enough, Vogue said purple was the new pink. When you added all those things together, it came out heaven in a bottle, and he loved the vintage.

  The only thing missing was a double espresso. Oh to be able to indulge in that most human of experiences. It was the only drawback of being a vampire. You could never eat or drink what you wanted. It was sort of like being on Jennie Craig without Kirstie Alley haunting you all the time. How that woman invaded his life at every turn ... But one day he would have the last laugh.

  Stepping away from his dressing table, Leopold brushed a piece of lint from his collar. He was going to have to get a decorator in here while they were gone. His first plan had been to stay here while the good doctor saw to the unearthing of the Mother. With the addition of Mr. Petmyskunk, those plans had changed.

  No, the vampire would need to keep an eye on things. Not a close eye. His agent would take care of that, but Leopold wanted to be near enough to jump in should the need arise. Even Lewis couldn't be trusted to see to his best interests.

  The boy was just too young to un-life. The implications of what they were trying to do were beyond his feeble senses. Lewis had potential, but only age would bring that potential to flower. Leopold didn't have that long to wait. He needed experience now. The only place to find it was within himself.

  His ego would not admit another vampire of equal age might do the job. Besides, they were all too prissy to get the job done right. He was the only man for it.

  That was why Leopold had already reserved a flight, set to leave tomorrow night, as well as a reservation at a lodge not far from the dig site. He would arrive after the team, leaving them none the wiser as to his presence. You didn't get to be as old as he was without thinking ahead. Thanks to priceline.com, the entire operation had been a breeze.*

  *While not an official sponsor of this manuscript, Shatner gives me assurances Nimoy has pull.

  Leopold tossed the last of his cravats into his suitcase. They settled like wilted lilies on top of his seersucker suit. He had considered taking something hip and urban, but decided a well-maintained dignity was the best way to go. A vampire of his standing had a certain image to uphold.

  Closing the case Leopold went to his door. He could hear Lewis rummaging around in the other room. Lewis knew better than to enter his private suites without knocking first. What the hell had happened to propriety?

  "Lewis, you know I don't like you invading my space,” Leopold said, as he opened the door. The naughty thing would have to learn.

  "Well, if this was Lewis, I'm sure he'd be quaking in his boots,” a dark figure answered from the room.

  "Marcus, is that you?” Leopold demanded. Anger swelled within him. How dare Marcus invade his sanctum like this! There were rules of etiquette to be followed otherwise they were no better than humans.

  "Who else, old friend?” Marcus said, as he walked toward Leopold.

  "You think that you can just walk into my home unannounced? I will not brook such umbrage. I expect an explanation,” Leopold raged. He felt a good old-fashioned outburst was called for. Not too much, though. He didn't want to look like a crying nilly.

  "Oh, Leopold. You never cease to amuse me.” Marcus laughed.

  "I'm quite serious. Explain yourself, before I get ugly,” Leopold warned, throwing his hands on his hips.

  "My God, you really have become an old thing haven't you?"

  "What makes you say that? What have you heard?” Leopold asked, growing a little nervous. He had overplayed himself. Hadn't he? It was the hip thing. He shouldn't have done the hip thing.

  "Oh, please just shut up. Your un-life crisis is no concern of mine. Act the fool if it makes you happy, but don't expect me to follow in your folly.” Marcus shook his head.

  "No, you shut up. This is my house, not yours. Now, tell me what you want and get the hell out."

  "All right, here it is. We want you to stop this madness. The Mother is asleep for a reason. She's too volatile to be loosed on this world. Her world is but dust. Please, Leopold, for whatever friendship we may have once had—let this matter go,” Marcus implored.

  "It is you, who is playing the fool, Marcus. The Mother will take care of us. She will open this world wide, and we will be her kings to rule it, as she wants."

  "She will turn this world into a killing floor. You don't know her. I do. I have seen what the Mother makes of the land when she wakes. I will not see it happen again.” Marcus’ eyes were cold and hard.

  Leopold looked at him. He and Marcus had known each other for centuries. This was the first time his friend had spoken to him in such a manner. Sure, they had had disagreements over the years, but this was different. There was a hardness in the other vampire's voice that hadn't shown itself before. Frankly, it scared Leopold.

  But it in no way changed his plans. The Mother would be wakened. Marcus was more than happy to try and stop him, but he would go ahead.

  Marcus was no army of one. No, Rambo for damn sure. The vampire was a thinker. His knowledge may be vast, but that was it. Leopold, while born to nobility, had to fight for everything. His youth was one long struggle for survival. His life after becoming a vampire had been no different.

  Marcus, on the other hand, had been born to true privilege. He never wanted for anything. He never hungered for anything more than what he had. If he had, it was given to him. He was weak. They both knew it.

  The only advantage Marcus had was age. Marcus had been born more than a thousand years ago. That was a lot of time to acquaint yourself with your powers. The vastness of Marcus’ power was the only thing to give Leopold pause, but even it didn't give him much worry. Marcus’ exaggerated sense of honor would not allow him to fight dirty. Leopold did not have such compulsions.

  The silence between them had gone on long enough. Leopold turned to Marcus. The vampire was imploring him with his eyes to forsake this path. Leopold considered lying to him. Falsehoods wouldn't work. They knew each other too well. That left them as enemies at least in this.

  "Leopold, do this for me. Do this for our friendship,” Marcus pleaded.

  "I can't. This is my destiny. Whether it is for good or for bad, this is something I must do."

  "Then, know this. We will come to blows over this. Mark my works. You will come to see I was right to your ultimate displeasure,” Marcus said, and then was gone.

  Leopold saw him fade into nothing. He knew it for what it was—an announcement of war. It was a show that told him Marcus had powers he didn't, as well as the wisdom to use them.

  Well, damn him. This was his life, not Marcus'. To impose his demands on him was an insult. Then again, he had always seen himself as everyone's big brother, the sanctimonious prick.

  Leopold slammed the lid down on his suitcase. He would not bow to his big brother now, or ever again. Soon, all those high and mighty lords would be bowing to him. That brought a smile to his face. Yes, it would feel good to be worshiped.

  * * * *

  Breathred was pumping his foot against the floor when Luna finally made it back to his place. Dusk was long gone, and the night was full against the skyline. Stud finished the packing for the two of them. It had been the only thing keeping the chimp from running off after her.

  Breathred, on the other hand, had opted for extreme worry. He paced the floor for the better part of the afternoon. When dusk dropped its coat over the city, he moved on to slamming things. Everything from doors to Nerf basketballs met his fury.
Breathred knew Stud sympathized, but refrained from joining him in his misery. He was glad for that. Breathred knew from experience how the little beast acted on his anxiety. To put it bluntly, chimps threw poo to show their anxiety. After all the cheesy burritos Stud consumed over lunch he hoped the chimp was too constipated to manage a fart let alone a full-on poo barrage.

  Luna entered the room. “So, guys, how's it hanging

  "Is there any reason you couldn't get back here on time, or at the very least call us to let us know where you were?” Breathred demanded.

  * * * *

  She reached up and patted his cheek, which earned her a snarl. She had never seen him snarl before. She decided immediately that she didn't like it. She didn't mind him worrying; it was sweet. But the attitude had to go. If this was going to work, it was high time he learned who was in charge.

  "Breathred, I think we need to get some things straight. I may be your girlfriend, and I understand you were worried about me, but I can take care of myself. If you keep on thinking you can talk to me like that, you'll find out just how well I can take care of myself,” she said in a calm voice. Only her finger slapping the end of his nose let him know just how angry she really was.

  "Now, I'm sorry for not calling you, but I couldn't help it. You can either forgive me, or we can keep on like this for the rest of our lives. The choice is yours."

  "I'd forgive her, if I was you. That finger looks dangerous,” Stud remarked, standing well away from her while he said it.

  "Look, Luna. Maybe I overreacted, but that doesn't mean I wasn't worried,” Breathred said. “I am really sorry for the way I acted, and the only one who needs to be forgiven around here is me."

  "Oh, Silly Puss. How can I stay mad at you?” Luna asked. “You're my big ol’ bugger britches.” Like putty in my hands.

  "Ah, shucks."

  "Looks like you're almost all packed. So, what's left to do?” Luna asked, hoping her secret mission was safely out of the way.