Dead Moon Rising [The American Heroes Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Dead Moon Rising [The American Heroes Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12

by Macy Largo


  She snorted coffee out her nose, then started coughing as she choked.

  He laughed and brought her a wad of paper towels. “What? You know they are. My sister thinks her shit don’t stink, and Carl isn’t much better. It was me and your dad against the two of them.” He looked at her sadly. “I just wish you’d called me when all this started, instead of that lousy weasel Bobby.”

  “He was trying to help. He just didn’t want to get his hands dirty doing it.”

  “No, he was trying to get out of helping you or he would have offered you a place to stay. I wanted to reach through the phone and smack him.” He held her hand. “Sar, we’re family. I know we haven’t been super-close, but I do love you, kiddo. I’m always going to be here for you.”

  She shivered. “You don’t know what I can do,” she said. She dared to meet his gaze. The warm glow she normally felt while with her men had mostly dissipated now that she was away from them. She felt Robbie’s presence, and twinges of her old abilities fighting their way through. “You see me in action, you might change your mind.”

  He grinned. “Honey, no one told you about your Grandma Jennings, did they? Well, she’d be your great-grandma.”

  Her great-grandparents had all died before she was born. “No.”

  He sat back, a smile on his face, his hands laced together and resting on his stomach. “She was Skokomish. You know who they are?” Sarah nodded. “I remember when I was a kid, sitting at her feet while she knit. She loved to knit. She’d knit the hell out of anything. Probably could have knitted a damn car. Anyway, she’d tell me stories about her people, growing up in the tribe, lots of the old stories. And she’d tell me things that were going to happen. They always happened.”

  “No one ever told me about her!”

  “Well, she was our maternal grandmother. The snootiness in our family comes from my dad’s side of the family. They put up a hellacious stink when he dared married a woman who was a half-breed, as they said. They disowned him.” He snorted in disgust. “Your grandmother was a wonderful woman, classy, smart. She died way too young.” Sarah barely remembered Grandma Aston, who’d died of cancer when she was four. “Everyone who really knew her loved her. Daddy loved her fierce. He never remarried when she died. I think he died of a broken heart, not a heart attack.”

  Sarah wondered how many other secrets were buried in her family tree. “Grandma Jennings could see things?”

  He nodded. “Yep. She came from a long line of spiritual people. I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know much about that branch of our family. But what I remember about her is that she could see things before they happened. She didn’t talk much about it, only to people she knew. I think I was the only kid she really confided in because it didn’t scare me, it fascinated me.”

  “Why didn’t my dad tell me?”

  “Honey, it scared him. And I’ll be honest…” He studied his hands for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice sounded soft and gentle. “He loved your momma. It wouldn’t surprise me that when you told him what you saw, about him dying, maybe he saw that as his chance to be with her again.”

  * * * *

  Sarah spent the morning in a daze. Uncle Eddie dug out photo albums, pictures she’d never seen before, and was shocked to discover she looked very much like her Grandma Aston in her younger days. It explained where her straight, black hair came from when both her mother and father were brunettes.

  “Could Grandma Aston see things?” She stared at a picture of her grandmother, taken as an older teen, and the resemblance was spooky.

  “I don’t know. I think so, but she never talked about it. Unfortunately back then, people didn’t embrace cultural differences the way they do now. Grandma Jennings’ family disowned her for marrying a white man. She dared to follow her heart. Grandpa Jennings was disowned for marrying her, too.”

  “So you come from a long line of black sheep?” she teased.

  He roared with laughter. She loved that sound. “Yeah, I guess I got it honest, didn’t I?”

  She took a break around lunch time to lock herself in her room and video IM with John. Her heart ached when she saw his happy smile.

  “Hi, babe.”

  She reached out and touched her screen. He’d slipped his high-dollar microphone headset into her computer bag so she could talk with them in private. “Hi. Miss you.”

  “We miss you, too. Del’s on patrol, but we can get together and talk again later when he’s home.”

  She hadn’t dared to log in to her email yet. “Any updates?”

  “No, I’m sorry. They’re still working on it. He spoofed his IP address again. Having a nice visit with Uncle Eddie?”

  She smiled. “I think I know why I’m freaky.”

  “You’re not freaky.”

  “Um, yeah, I am.” She told him about her great-grandmother.

  When she finished, he looked stunned. “Wow. Well, that makes sense then, doesn’t it? Maybe it was just coincidence it started when you got the crack on the head.”

  “I don’t think it was coincidence, and neither do you. I think it was a catalyst to something already dormant inside me. But it’s nice to know maybe I inherited this ability. It makes me feel less freakish.”

  “I’m going to spank you if you don’t stop calling yourself freaky.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah? How you going to do that?”

  He grinned. “I’ll keep track of it and give them to you when we get down there.”

  “Hmph.” She knew he wouldn’t really spank her. They’d be too busy catching up on missed loving for him to want to do that.

  Twenty minutes later, she ended the call with him and sat there staring at her screen. She should check her email and finally logged in. After holding her breath, she realized there was nothing bad there.

  She logged into her old Gmail account.

  She resisted the urge to open the message with the photo of her and John.

  Clicking the log out link, she shut down her computer. She needed to get out of the condo, go with Uncle Eddie, and let him enjoy spoiling her.

  * * * *

  When they returned home that night after dinner, they found a large overnight package waiting for them at the front desk in the condo’s lobby. The doorman handed it over. “Someone shelled out some bucks. It’s heavy.”

  “They must have sent it yesterday afternoon after I left.”

  Uncle Eddie refused to let her carry it. He set it on the kitchen table for her, and she ripped into it.

  Inside lay a brand new BlackBerry, in the box, with the phone number written on the outside in black marker. And a car charger for it, still in the package. Some of her clothes and shoes the men thought she might need.

  She smiled when she realized they’d each packed one of their own T-shirts that she liked to wear around the house, along with some of her favorite books, a couple of computer reference books she kept by her laptop.

  And a zipper-top bag held the sage stick, shell, feather, and sea salt.

  She smiled. She didn’t need it here, feeling Robbie’s comforting presence hovering at the far reaches of her mind, but it was nice to know they thought of it.

  The phone needed to be charged, so she took everything to her room and closed the door so she could plug the phone in and call them.

  John’s laugh filled her ear. “Hi, babe. I see our care package arrived safely.”

  “You could have gotten me a cheap phone, you know, but thank you.”

  His tone turned serious. “Honey, what part of ‘you’re ours and we love you’ don’t you understand?”

  Warm, pleasant shivers raced through her. “Maybe later we can have a three-way phone call,” she said, hoping her uncle couldn’t hear. “Do some heavy breathing.”

  He laughed. “Oh, baby, you are such a tease. I love you so much. Oh, hold on. I think he’s just pulling in.” He was off the line for a moment before Del’s voice spoke in her ear.

  “Hiya, babe. He’
s starting without me again, isn’t he?”

  “No, sweetie. We were just talking.”

  “No IM sex earlier, huh?”

  She giggled. “No, sorry.” She started to say something else when she yawned. Stress and the trip had finally caught up with her. “Actually, maybe I need to go to sleep. I didn’t realize how tired I am.”

  “Then you go get some sleep and have some pleasant dreams. Love you. Here’s John.”

  “Love you, too.” She still felt a thrill hearing them say it. She hoped that never wore off.

  “Okay, babe. Go get some sleep. Call me in the morning. Love you.”

  “Love you.” She stared at the phone. The geek in her wanted to immediately set up her email and other apps on the new phone, but she yawned again.

  She wandered out to the kitchen for a drink of water and found Uncle Eddie doing a crossword puzzle at the table. “Heading for bed, kiddo?”

  “Yeah.”

  He sat back and studied her. “If you wanted, if this, you know, lasts too long, I don’t mind going out there with you for a visit.”

  She shivered. She didn’t want her uncle in danger. “No, that’s okay. They’re going to come out here in a couple of weeks. I think they’ll catch this guy.”

  “You think it, or you see it?”

  She thought about that. She didn’t know. She hadn’t seen it. “I’m hoping it.”

  * * * *

  Despite her exhaustion, sleep wasn’t quick in coming.

  She opened her eyes to find herself standing on Miami Beach and staring out at the ocean. The waxing moon cast a sparkling glow on the dark waters of the Atlantic.

  Beside her, Robbie stood, head back, eyes closed, nose to the air. “I love this. I’ve never seen the ocean before.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad one of us is having fun.”

  He laughed and looked up at her. “Don’t be scared. This will be okay. It’s going to hurt. A lot. And you’ll be scared. But no matter what, don’t give up.”

  “Can you not speak in a clichéd, horror-movie-spirit riddle kind of way?”

  He frowned, confused.

  “Can’t you just tell me what’s going to happen?”

  “No, because I don’t know. I only know what happened already. I’m like you, I can feel things. See flashes. All I know is that in the end, you’ll be okay.”

  Her heart chilled. “What about my boys?”

  He slowly nodded. “It’s going to hurt a lot.”

  He’d said that before. “Do they get hurt?”

  “I can’t tell who does.”

  She reached out to touch him. In this way, he felt as solid as the sand between her toes and the sharp edges of shell digging into the soles of her feet. Hooking an arm around his shoulders, she pulled him to her and they stood there together watching the surf slowly creep up the sand as high tide flowed in.

  “Can you help me find out who killed you?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Maybe. I remember what he looked like. But he’s been dead for a long time. So it doesn’t matter.”

  “But you said he comes back.”

  “He can’t scare me anymore.” He looked up at her, smiling. “I’m with you now. You freed me.”

  Another creeping chill swept through her that had nothing to do with the cool sea breeze. “Does he still come back? As another person?”

  Robbie stared out at the ocean. “Sometimes,” he whispered. “I’ve seen him come back a few times. Different people, but I always know it’s him. They can’t help themselves.”

  “Is he back now?”

  He nodded.

  She snugged him more tightly against her. Well, what the hell. If she was talking to a ghost that had hitch-hiked across the country with her, why not contemplate reincarnation?

  “Tell me something I could find out that no one would know. About you. I need to know I’m not crazy.”

  He thought for a moment. “I had an ole tin can I hid my marbles in. My older brother liked to take ’em. He’d lose my best ones playing with his friends. So I hid ’em in a can. I covered it with a big, flat rock. It’s down near the creek, not too far from where the barn was.”

  “Is it still there?”

  “Last time I looked.”

  Now she wanted to get home more than ever.

  Home.

  He looked up at the sky. “Almost time to wake up,” he said.

  She looked at the moon, which hadn’t even reached its zenith yet. “No, it can’t be more than—”

  Her eyes snapped open to bright sunlight streaming through the blinds. She spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling. She didn’t feel rested. She felt…

  Like she’d spent the night standing on a beach talking to the ghost of a murdered seven year-old boy.

  Groaning, she slipped on Del’s T-shirt over a pair of shorts and wandered out to the kitchen. Uncle Eddie sat at the dining room table, reading the paper, his back to her. She detoured through the kitchen instead of going to give him a hug. “Good morning.”

  No reply.

  She turned to look at him and saw his eyes frozen open in shock and horror, his throat slashed, blood running down his chest and staining his shirt red—

  She woke up screaming, with Uncle Eddie shaking her.

  “Sarah! Wake up, sweetheart! It’s a nightmare!”

  She gasped for air, another scream choked back in her throat as she realized he was okay. She threw her arms around him and sobbed as he held her and tried to soothe her.

  “It’s okay, sweetie, just a bad dream.”

  She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, finally sitting back and reassuring herself that he was alive and whole.

  “What was it?” he asked. “What did you dream about?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak it. It was too horrific. The shock of the nightmare was so strong she could barely remember snippets of her conversation with Robbie.

  He caught her chin. “Tell me,” he firmly said.

  Sniffling, she told him about the nightmare. His lips set in a firm line as he hugged her again. “It’s okay, Sar-Bear. Just a bad dream fucking with you. You want me to stay in here with you?”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s not even three yet.”

  Now that her terror had passed, she realized it was still dark outside. “No, I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  He finally returned to his own room, but insisted on leaving her door cracked open so he could hear her if she had another bad dream. She bundled the sheet around her and curled up on her side as she stared out her window. That wasn’t just a bad dream. It was one of those dreams. The last time she’d had a dream that bad…

  Her father had died.

  Chapter Thirteen

  John’s eyes snapped open. Del lay peacefully sleeping next to him. A glance at the clock showed it wasn’t quite one yet.

  Fuck.

  Carefully slipping out of bed, he grabbed his gun and checked the doors and windows. Nothing wrong, as far as he could tell.

  He stepped into Sarah’s bathroom and, without turning on the light, took a leak. When he turned to wash his hands, he thought he caught a glimpse of something in the mirror.

  His heart raced. Standing there, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A moment later, he felt a presence in the darkness and heard a soft, young boy’s voice whisper, “She’s okay.”

  His eyes snapped open, but he stood alone in the dark bathroom. Suppressing a shiver as he washed his hands, he returned to bed and tried to get some sleep.

  * * * *

  By morning, Sarah remembered most of her conversation with Robbie. But the memory of seeing her beloved uncle sitting there dead haunted her. He was already in the kitchen preparing coffee when she dragged herself out of bed.

  “Today, we go car shopping,” he announced. “And no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I want a new car, and we’ll get yours regi
stered to you. I’ll put you on my insurance.”

  Guilt briefly displaced dream grief. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, yes I do. I want you to have a reliable car, and I don’t want anyone accusing me of not taking care of my niece.” He kissed the top of her head. “So breakfast, then we get dressed and go. I want to buy a babe magnet.”

  She laughed. Her sixty-two year old uncle didn’t strike her as the kind to need a babe magnet.

  Six hours later they returned to the condo, Sarah driving the Accord, which now officially belonged to her. He drove a brand new Ford Mustang convertible. Before dinner, she had another video IM session with John and realized this was the start of her new routine. Her new life.

  Not what she wanted, but she’d do what her men told her to do.

  Two weeks later, the killer still hadn’t been caught, the new moon had passed without a murder, and no more messages had shown up on her old email account. The investigators sent the killer an email, to try to bait him, but received no reply.

  She hadn’t had any more nightmares either, much to her relief.

  At sixteen days, her men were discussing making reservations to fly down when she heard her uncle call her from the living room. “Sar, can you come here for a minute?”

  “Yeah, hold on.” She looked at the screen. “Hold on a minute,” she told Del and John, who were both huddled in front of John’s web cam. “Uncle Eddie needs me for something.” She slipped off her headphones and climbed out of bed.

  Uncle Eddie was sitting at his desk in the living room, staring at his computer. She walked up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “What’s up?”

  He pointed at the screen. “Does this mean anything to you?”

  Her heart froze. The subject read For Sarah.

  You thought you could run and hide on the shore.

  Fool me with fakes? That won’t work anymore.

  Come home, little night owl, sooner is best.

  Otherwise your men or your uncle might find final rest.

 

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