Blame It on the Moon: An urban fantasy romance (Destiny Paramortals Book 4)

by Livia Quinn

  It was just one more clue to add to my vast, so far useless, collection. I had to wonder though if any other supernatural beings in Destiny were experiencing an increase in power, or new powers from the twin moons.

  “So what have you and Vivie been talking about?” I asked, not really expecting a credible answer.

  “She doesn’t belong here,” Freddie said, searching the water.

  “No joke.” Same thing Phoebe had alluded to.

  “No, really. She escaped through the plates in the Gulf where she swam into the Mississippi River and when the river flooded in 2011, she had to slog through mud and flooded farmland to find deeper water. For the last few years she’s been living on the other side of Fierce Winds Isle where the water is deeper, but not deep enough.”

  I tried to picture this swamp creature slogging across muddy swampland, maybe crawfish ponds or rice fields. Wouldn’t that have been a surprise for some poor farmer who probably would have tried to shoot her for a mega nutria-rat? “So how did she wind up in the Forge?” I asked.

  Freddie looked toward the swamp where the creature had gone under, the water now so still I could see the sky clearly. “She followed the rise in water level last spring sensing the power here but got stranded in the shallows.” Freddie’s eyes filled. “She just wants to go home, Mr. Jack.”

  “To the Lake? Or to the Gulf?” I asked.

  Freddie looked toward the swamp. “I…um…” Apparently their conversation hadn’t gotten that far.

  “How do you communicate with Viv, Fred? Can she talk?”

  He laughed, “No! You’ve heard the extent of her vocal abilities. She sends…meanings to me…and…pictures.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward me, “I don’t think she’s very smart.”

  In the last day, there’d been quite a change in Freddie. He’d gone from bumbling handyman to a creature savant with an upgraded vocabulary. I hadn’t heard him say Youbetcha once.

  “Alright, if you ‘talk’ to her again, see if you can find out more, but keep your distance. She almost drowned Dylan—”

  “She didn’t mean it.”

  “Yeah, well there’s a phrase for that in law enforcement—negligent homicide. Have you seen a guy with swords around here?”

  “You mean him?” Freddie pointed at the sky behind me. I felt the swirling lift of air as Conor floated in for a landing—smooth and quiet. His dragon form faded, from bright shiny black and blurred, but what I hadn’t been able to see the first time Conor had transformed, happened this time in slow motion.

  It reminded me of the way Dutch’s genie had been sucked into his genie bottle, only about five times larger. When the faded black form of Conor’s dragon body and wings funneled down into his knight form, I could actually see the giant wings collapse and transform into the huge crenelated swords on the knight’s back.

  Dylan had wondered—and now we knew where he stashed them. Sobered by thoughts of Dylan’s predicament I waited as Conor strode the twenty-yard distance to me. He looked over my shoulder at Freddie and his brow took a giant hike.

  “Fred says he’s been chatting with Swamp Thang.”

  “Le Vouivre,” said Conor, correcting me.

  “You know about this creature?” I snapped my fingers. “That’s right, you were there when it took Dylan under. Freddie says it’s lost.”

  Conor nodded. “Aye, the lassie is stranded.”

  The lassie? “So it really is a female. I guess that should have been obvious by her appearance on the bank, huh?”

  Conor smirked. “Aye. She didnae intend to hurt the finrir, but was frightened and in strange surroundings. Vouivres live far under the bottom of the ocean. They are elementals of significant power, but peaceful and—how wood yoo say—introspective?”

  His accent got stronger sometimes, maybe when he was concentrating on something he wasn’t familiar with. “Introverted,” I said. “It’s pretty extroverted if you ask me, to sit on the bank in nothing but your hair.”

  “That is a diversionary tactic of many Faewhich Le Vouivre uses to get her food.” Conor studied Freddie who sat on the bank staring at the water.

  “What does she eat?” I followed Conor’s gaze, wondering if Freddie and Viv were talking again or if she was planning her next meal.

  “Mostly Atlantean sailors. I don’t know what she’s been eating since she’s been displaced,” Conor said.

  Freddie tossed the answer over his shoulder, “Alligators.”

  “Ah.” That was a relief. I had anticipated a different answer, but as long as it didn’t include tool guys or ex-Navy pilots… “She should have a plentiful of food source for a while then. They restricted hunting here after the popularity of that TV show brought an element to Storm Lake that the Tourism Board wasn’t keen on.”

  Conor nodded toward the house. “How are the others?”

  “Not good. Phoebe tried something to save Aurora. It worked… but now all three of them including Dylan are barely hanging on. Phoebe and Montana came back here hoping they’d gain strength quicker by being near the Forge.” Conor surprised me my placing his big hand on my shoulder as a show of support.

  The back door slammed and Montana marched out, then when Conor’s face broke into a smile, she gave it up, running into his arms so hard she almost made him lose his balance. My heart gave a twist at their reunion after only being separated a short time. Maybe Montana’s reaction was a bit more enthusiastic because of the loss of her Dinnshencha reserve, but there was something so unexpected and heart-warming about their new relationship.

  It made me ache to have Tempe well so I could hold her and not fear hurting her, or losing her. The urge to return to the house was almost more than I could resist.

  Hello, we interrupt this tender scene to return to the current desperate…that’s petty, Jack. “Any change?” I asked Montana.

  Montana pulled free of Conor’s arms said, “I’m sorry, Jack, not yet, but Aurora and Tempe are not getting weaker. Tempe will be okay.”

  She checked the sky. “We have to be past the halfway point.” A violent splash from the Forge sent swamp water a hundred feet in the air.

  “She’s not sounding happy.” I rubbed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to my temples. When had I slept last? “Conor, can you do anything about her?” I frowned, “You’re not by any chance related, are you? I mean, four elements…one of them is fire, right?”

  “That’s no’ always true, but in this case, there is a distant relationship between my kin and the alligators she’s taken for sustenance.”

  “So what if you had to—you know—”

  Conor’s eyes narrowed. “Only if there is no other course.

  “That’ll have to do. I think we should make this our base of operations, with one of us here at all times to protect the others and monitor the situation. Montana, don’t you have an appointment at the Faerie Inn?”

  Conor gave her an inquiring glance. Montana, looking disgruntled, unclenched her fists as she draped her hands over Conor’s shoulders. She looked up into the knight’s face, scowling. “Phoebe says I have to meet with Petre and Arabella formally and get their agreement to help us. They don’t like vampires.”

  He leaned down to her and soothed with a brush of his lips to her forehead. Just as she settled her head against his neck, he slapped her butt, winking at me. “Needs must, sweet. You are Branislava. Remember.”

  Montana winced. “Give me a lift?” She turned to me. “Will you be here? Phoebe’s right. If I take Conor with me they might be more agreeable.”

  “I’ll be here. I have some calls to make and I’ll keep an eye on the Lady Dragon of the Lake to make sure she stays to her diet.”

  Montana hopped into the air as Conor shifted and she vaulted onto his shoulder like a circus performer with a lifetime of trust.

  Chapter 9

  Jack

  A ménage between a genie, a grizzly and a tornado

  Standing over Tempe while she slept, I felt a stirring of hope
. I spoke to Phoebe, whose back was to me taking Dylan’s pulse. “Does her color seem better to you?”

  When Phoebe turned, I realized she didn’t look all that well herself with more than concern etched on her face. I was gaining a new respect for her. The community had maligned Tempe’s mother when she’d merely been making the most informed choice at the time for her children. I could understand Tempe’s perspective but as a parent, I also got the sacrifices we made to protect our children.

  It was even easier to condemn hers and Dutch’s decision from a human perspective, but they weren’t human. There was a lot to be said for being immortal, living forever and all, but even that wasn’t a given, and it carried its own weight in responsibilities and rules obviously. Look at the relationship between Tempe and Dylan. There’d been real caring between both, I was sure, but also disadvantages because of the nature of Paramortals.

  Phoebe lifted Tempe’s hand and said, “Yes. I definitely see a difference. In Aurora as well, though it’s more difficult to tell. Tempe’s lost that paleness and her body temperature is rising.” She smiled. “Did you notice her hair?”

  I nodded. “It doesn’t have the wacky streaks in it yet…” but it was no longer nearly black. This was a good sign. The tension in my chest, I hadn’t realized I’d been feeling, eased.

  “Coming back here was the right thing to do,” Phoebe said.

  “Then it’s good that we’ve made this our base of operations. I’ll be bringing in a few trustworthy people so be sure to ask before throwing any lightning bolts, okay?”

  “I’m in the same straits as Tempe there,” Phoebe said.

  I walked over to where Dylan lay. “He’s not getting better, is he?”

  Phoebe seemed to wilt down beside Dylan. She said softly, “I’m losing him.”

  I heard that something in her voice again. It sounded personal, intimate even.

  “I can hear you thinking, Jack.” The sarcasm was back.

  “You can?” I blinked. That would be very inconvenient. I didn’t want my lover’s mother hearing everything in my head.

  “Not literally. Dylan is very…special to me, and Dutch. I have some difficult explaining to do with Tempe on that subject.”

  I waited. When she didn’t respond I asked, “What happened? You sleep with your daughter’s boyfriend in a previous life?”

  She shook her head and sighed with exasperation. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “I’m obviously not the only one who senses an intimate connection between you and Dylan,” I said, somewhat surprised I’d had the courage to confront this powerful being, and possibly my future…in-law? Hmm, first time I’d thought of her that way.

  Phoebe paced the living room, her feet quiet on the hardwood floor. She sifted the long strands of her hair through her fingers. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision, sitting in the chair across from me. “It’s difficult to explain. Dylan acted as a…conduit, a vessel if you will, for Dutch and I… to have River and Tempe.” She sped through the last part.

  “How—” I frowned, trying to picture what she could mean, but it kept coming out looking like a ménage between a genie, a grizzly and a tornado.

  “Is that some kind of Paramortal insemination thing—”

  She jumped right in with the details. “In his shifted form as finrir, he could transfer the egg—”

  “Okay.” I held up my hand. “I’ve decided I believe you. I don’t need the blow by blow.” And I didn’t want that picture in my head every time I was with Tempe. “I get it. He’s a very close friend of you and your husband who made it possible for you to have your ‘offspring’.” I couldn’t help the sarcasm. It was part of my earliest empathy for Tempe.

  Phoebe squinted at me. “You are a very difficult man, Sheriff. But loyal.”

  “Thank you, I think. So what can be done for Dylan? Why isn’t he getting stronger like the others?”

  Phoebe shook her head as she studied Dylan for a long time. “I’m not sure.” Her brows rose when a thought struck her.

  “What?” I leaned over Dylan to see what she’d seen but it was in her memories that she’d gone. After several long seconds she said, “Perhaps it has something to do with his father dying on the last Para-moon.”

  “Was his father a finrir as well?” I asked. If anyone had asked me after meeting Dylan’s beast for the first time, I’d have said his mother was a Kodiak and his father, a tank.

  “Yes.” Phoebe sighed and her gaze settled on mine. “My last hope is to bring in a healer. There’s one over in Campbell Glen. Her name is Mystiq Campbell.”

  “I’ve heard of her. She took over the Campbell Glen estate and is in the process of re-tooling the operations to be totally eco-friendly, even the new Internet cafe and Artist’s community. The new name for all the holdings is Campbell Green.”

  Phoebe nodded. “Mysti inherited the farm from her Great-Aunt Delia. She was raised on the Glen but went away to New York to university and has lived there until recently. Storm Lake children always return to the Lake. Remember that, Jack,” she said, making me wonder who besides Ms. Campbell had returned.

  “Even when Mysti was a child it was clear she’d be a powerful healer. If you’ll make the request in person, she’ll come.”

  “I’ll go as soon as Montana and Conor return.” So, in addition to getting in touch with Ridge, I’d have to make a trip to Campbell Green.

  “Tell her Aunt Phoebe sent you.”

  Brows rising with surprise, I looked at her and tried to figure out how they were related.

  She waved a hand at me. “I’m not her real aunt. It was just a nickname she used. Her great aunt and I were very close friends. I used to have many human friends.” Her eyes got a far away expression. She looked drained and in a whisper I had to lean forward to hear, she said, “They all die.”

  And there it was, one of those disadvantages I had identified. Was this the life that was in store for Jordie? Because of the Para-moon we had yet to find out what type of Paramortal she was going to be. I wondered if Georgeanne knew anything. I vowed to find out about her family background.

  As I walked out the back door I thought about the first ten years of my marriage, about all the unbelievable tales G had told and the things she’d done. Maybe this explained it.

  The sun was finally lifting through the Cypress trees along the bank, but the quiet of the morning was unnatural. I went to check on Freddie. When I rounded the side of the house, I saw that the handyman was no longer standing on the bank but was knee deep in shallow water. The green eyed, naked blonde had reappeared. Her glowing eyes turned on me when I got closer and I felt the pull in my groin.

  Resist her, Jack. Get to Freddie. She turned back to Fred, opening her jaws revealing dozens of uneven, needle sharp teeth, dripping swamp scum and moss. She was luring us to her, for what?

  “Backup, Freddie.” I was breathing hard, but I waved like an airline traffic hand and yelled, “Freddie Taylor.” He jerked. My gun was in my hand and firing before I thought. The bullet bulls-eyed, so to speak, in the fae’s iris.

  It should have killed her but she didn’t drop, instead her head whipped back and the eyeball popped out of its socket. As it hit the ground, it sprouted leggy fingers that elongated, attaching to the mud and growing at a phenomenal pace toward Freddie.

  “Get up here, Fred. Now.” Her head snapped toward me, breaking the spell and Freddie splashed toward the bank. She didn’t give up just because one eye had become a black hole. Her torso leaned toward Fred’s thrashing legs and a pale white arm that looked like pulled taffy reached for him. He landed on his back and crab walked up the slope in my direction. With my gun hand aimed at the thing, I used my other under his arm to lift him out of the way.

  When it and it’s crawly minion started forward, I shouted, “Back off or lose the other eye.” I wasn’t sure it cared. The remaining green orb bored into me. I grit my teeth against the spell or whatever it was using and prepared to fire,
but it reconsidered and shrank back slithering into the water like a clumsy bottom feeder. Soon all that was left of it was the dying eyeball monkey on the ground. I shot it twice then stomped it with my boot.

  I bent over to help Freddie up. The handyman rose and pulled a rag from his back pocket wiping the muck off his arms and cheeks. “Thank you, Sheriff Lang. I think that thing put some kind of spell on me.”

  “I felt it too, Freddie. So much for just munching on alligators.”

  Freddie looked up sharply. “That wasn’t Vivie. Couldn’t you tell the difference?”

  I scratched two days growth of beard and holstered my gun thinking about what Freddie was saying. He must be in love with the creature. I pointed out the obvious, checking the clues off on my fingers for him. “Blonde, check. Naked, check. Weird green eyes—”

  He shook his head, “I know, but that wasn’t Vivie. I think she was sleeping, or…frightened. Our connection went away about twenty minutes ago.”

  I leaned over and picked up my hat. I didn’t want to think of what this could mean. Was there a band of naked green-eyed monsters slithering around the waterways of Storm Lake, luring men to their deaths? Sounded like a bad Stephen King movie. And something else I’d have to prepare Ridge’s people for.

  But as Phoebe had said, all we could do was stay on high alert for unfriendlies and respond. No problemo. Be prepared was one of the Armed Forces’ oldest mottos.

  “I’ll take your word for now since Conor and Phoebe agree. I have some calls to make so stay away from the bank.”

  “Uh, Sheriff?” Freddie said as he started up the hill toward the house. I turned back; phone in hand, impatient to get to my calls. “Yes, Fred…”

  “Before we lost contact, Vivie asked if she could help. She said something about the ‘seer’? I couldn’t quite make it out.”