Blood Moon's Servant: A Paranormal Thriller

by Leah Kingsley

  Charles sagged into Max’s desk chair. “That guy seriously needs to see someone about his anger management.”

  “He’s getting a roommate switch? Not if I beat him to it.”

  “Any idea why he suddenly hates you?”

  “Oh yeah, I know why he hates me.” Max put a hand to his forehead with a pained expression. Charles waited a few beats for him to explain. Max stayed silent.

  Charles released a weary sigh and resigned himself to being kept in the dark. “Want a rematch?”

  “Whatever.”

  They were into their third game before Max opened up. “I dated Amy in middle school. We’d been friends for years.”

  “Didn’t end well, huh?”

  “You have no idea.” Max gingerly probed the back of his head. Charles eyed him with concern. Had Zack given him a concussion? He was about to suggest a precautionary trip to the student clinic when Max continued his story. “Amy called me up one night and asked me to come over. She said she had to babysit her sisters but that we could have our own party. I’d known Amy and her family for years. Those girls were like my sisters, too. I didn’t mind having them around, but Amy shooed them outside. We started making out on the couch and lost track of time. Next thing I knew, Susan was screaming that Katie couldn’t get out of the pool. She wasn’t breathing when we got to her, so I ran to the neighbors for help. But Katie died, and Amy blames me for her death.”

  Charles gaped, his thoughts tumbling over one another like clothes in a dryer. Amy had once had two little sisters and one of them had died? She was responsible for her baby sister’s death? “That’s not fair,” he said. He had no idea what else to say. Why had Amy blamed Max when they were clearly both at fault? And why had she kept the tragedy a secret all these years? She had obviously told Zack her own version. Charles hunched his shoulders against a tidal wave of loneliness. Amy and Zack must share tons of exclusive, little secrets. Was their trio really the tight knit group of friends he had come to rely on? What if he was an annoying, unwanted addition, a guy they’d gotten stuck with out of circumstance?

  Max cleared his throat and seemed to shake off the memory. “So, you going to that party tonight?”

  Charles snorted. “Didn’t even know there was one.” Had Zack and Amy kept that from him, too?

  “You have to come. College parties are legendary!”

  “Yeah? Ever been to one?” He huffed out an annoyed breath. Amy’s snark was rubbing off on him at last.

  “No, but I would assume.”

  “I don’t know.” Charles twisted his fingers together. Just the phrase ‘college party’ made his insides wriggle with nerves.

  Max slapped his shoulder. “It’ll be great! I’ll be your wingman. College chicks dig smart dudes.”

  “Who says I’m smart?”

  “You just give off that vibe.”

  It took several hours and more than a few beers for Max to succeed in wrenching Charles from his shell. They staggered across campus together and strolled into a residence hall with bass spilling from the windows of an apartment on the top floor. The thundering thrum kept time with his pounding heart as Charles and Max were swept into an elevator, zoomed to the top, and ushered through the door amid a crowd of other wide-eyed freshman.

  An upper-level student was hosting the party in her parentally paid for penthouse apartment. A DJ of sorts sat at a table in the corner, selecting popular tracks with his iPhone 12. The sound system’s volume was loud but not to the point where people had to scream to be heard. A makeshift bar had been set up across the room from the DJ, where two girls in tight dresses were mixing drinks for a nominal fee. The tall, slim brunette was concocting deadly looking beverages comprised almost entirely of straight alcohol. The curvy blonde had bartending experience and was making more traditional drinks.

  Amy was sitting on a couch between Zack and Damien, knocking back tequila shots like a seasoned alcoholic. A jolt of unease ripped through Charles at the sight of Damien with Amy. He shook it off, putting it down to Damien’s friendship with Peter. Charles ambled toward the trio. Damien glanced up and caught his eye. Charles’s steps faltered, and his stomach lurched in a sickening ninety degree drop. How had he missed it on the flight? Peter’s presence must have distracted him. A stream of curses ran through his mind. Damien was a Dark and a powerful one at that. Peter had found a new master to serve.

  “Charles!” Max strolled up with a girl on each arm. “I’d like you to meet Lindsay and April. They live across the hall from me.”

  Charles blinked at the pretty girls as if he had never seen one before. They both looked like models. Tall, blonde, great racks, gorgeous smiles. He was going to throw up. Girls were worlds out of reach on a good day. He hadn’t a hope of carrying on a coherent conversation with that thing watching his every move.

  “Hi. Sorry, I have to be somewhere.” He scrambled out onto the balcony and gulped a breath of fresh air. His supernatural instincts had shot into overdrive. He had to get the Dark away from his human friends. Damien could do anything to them, especially while they were intoxicated.

  “Calm down, mage.” Damien had materialized out of thin air. “Not all Darks are ruthless creatures bent on destroying the world.”

  “Wanna bet?” He blurted the words without thinking and felt his eyes widen in shock. He was able to converse with the evilest creature on the planet with only four drinks lending him courage? How many more would it take to be able to talk to beautiful girls?

  Damien huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Think what you want. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Same to you.” Charles retreated into the party. Hot girls were a hell of a lot less scary than swapping veiled threats with a Dark.

  Max cornered him within seconds. “Come on, man. You’re going to talk to at least one chick tonight if it’s the last thing you do.”

  “It very well might be,” Charles said with a dark look over his shoulder. Damien was eyeing him with an odd mixture of amusement and concern.

  “What about her?” Max nodded to a tall beauty with golden blonde hair and sad cornflower blue eyes.

  Charles snickered. Max had to be kidding. “She’s way out of my league!”

  “You’ll never know until you try. Go offer to buy her a drink. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, my very first college humiliation?” But, armed with a frosted glass in each hand, he wended his way through the crowd to her side. “Hey, I’m Charles. Can I buy you a drink?” He hadn’t stuttered, tripped over his feet, or dropped what he was holding. Elation flooded him and fueled a confident smile. Who knew alcohol was the answer to all his problems?

  “Hey, Charles.” His heart did somersaults at her flirtatious smile. “I’m Raquel.”

  He smiled stupidly for a moment before the pin dropped. Raquel? Raquel Nickels? He had gone to high school with this girl. He had hit on one of the prettiest cheerleaders from THS.

  “Is something wrong?” Her smile faded as quickly as it had come.

  “Uh, no.” He mentally flailed. Cheerleaders did not talk to nerds. This could not be happening. What had Max done to him? “I, um, realized I know you.”

  “Is that a problem?” She leaned closer. He lost his train of thought.

  “No. I mean, not for me. You don’t remember who I am?” Her perfume was sweet, like jasmine on a summer’s day.

  “I really don’t.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “Are you going to buy me that drink, or will I have to buy it myself?”

  “No! I mean yes. You definitely don’t need to buy it, ‘cause I’m getting it for you, right now!”

  “I’ll be waiting,” she said, her voice a lilting melody to his ears. Charles nearly fell flat on his face. He was literally falling head-over-heels for her. He rushed for the bar before he could make an even bigger fool out of himself.

  “Charles!” Amy grabbed his wrist as he passed her couch. “Do you know who that girl is?”

  “Yeah!
It’s Raquel from THS!” His chest threatened to burst with pride.

  Amy scowled. He was too elated to care. “Charles, that’s the girl who slept with Ken at the wedding last night. They cheated on Jessie, remember?”

  His elation tanked faster than a punctured helium balloon. “She slept with Ken? Zack’s popular, football playing, jock friend? That Ken?”

  “Are you not hearing me?” Amy swayed in her seat and clutched his arm for balance. How many shots had she downed? “That girl cheated on Jessie. You know, our friend who won’t come out of her room because she can’t stop crying? That Jessie.”

  Charles darted a glance over his shoulder. Raquel was already talking to someone else, a tall, skinny guy with bushy eyebrows and a thin mustache. “Look, Amy, this is the prettiest girl I’ve ever had a chance with. The only girl I’ve ever had a chance with. You are not going to take this away from me! Tomorrow she’ll remember who I am, and I’ll join you and Jessie in hating her. But tonight, I’m going to buy her drinks and actually have a great time for once!”

  Amy looked ready to breathe fire. Zack laughed. “Go get ‘em, Cinderella.”

  Max caught his eye and nodded to Raquel. She and Bushy Eyebrows were cozying up on the couch.

  Amy tightened her grip on his sleeve. “Charles, wait! Are you sure you know what you’re getting into with Max? He’s headache-inducing on a good day.”

  Charles scowled. Why was she trying to pick and choose his friends? “I like him.”

  “I’m just warning you is all.”

  Annoyance pricked his skin and leaked into his voice. “God, Amy! It happened like four years ago and you still hate the guy? At least he went for help.”

  “He told you that? Is that seriously what he said?” She got to her feet and clenched her fists. “Max did not go for help!”

  “At least someone told me. What other secrets are you and Zack hiding? Did he also murder a sibling and keep it from the rest of us?” Alarm bells rang in his head, but a drunken fog drowned them out.

  “Charles,” Zack warned.

  Tears glistened in Amy’s eyes. “Shut up! Shut up, Charles, or I swear I will make you!”

  “Don’t bother!” He backed up several steps to widen the space between them. Amy threw a nastier punch than her hot-tempered boyfriend.

  “What’s going on over here?” Jackson had been attracted by Amy’s screaming.

  “Ask Charles.” Amy swiped at her eyes. The hurt in her voice pierced his heart like a dagger. “I’m sure he’d be happy to fill you in on what he thinks is the truth.”

  “That would be difficult to do as no one ever bothers to confide in me. I just met Max today, and he’s shared more about his past than either of you have in two entire years. I don’t need friends who include me out of pity.” Charles squared his shoulders and marched to the bar. He needed a strong drink to wash down the bitter taste of betrayal.

  He cracked open a beer and glared morosely at the tabletop. He had always had his differences with Amy, but they had never fought like this. Amy lost her temper on the regular, but her anger tended to burn hot and then burn itself out. He had a feeling this time was different. The sad part was that he needed all the friends he could get. He couldn’t afford to lose anyone, least of all someone as fiercely loyal as Amy. He was a decade behind his peers in social skills, having made his first real friend at age seventeen. Friendship had never come easy to him, but he had hoped that saving Amy’s and Zack’s lives had counted for something. Surely that ought to have earned him at least a hint here or there that Amy had endured a traumatic loss.

  The blonde bartender mixed a familiar pink drink and slid it across the table to a tall chick with purple in her dark hair. Charles eyed the drink as only a distracted drunk could. He and Raquel had been going to the same THS parties for half of high school. She had always held the same pink drink in her hand. Making friends meant stepping outside his comfort zone, and if buying a drink for a pretty girl wasn’t stepping outside his comfort zone, he didn’t know what was. He pulled a bill from his wallet.

  “Strawberry daiquiri, my favorite!” Raquel dazzled him with a brilliant smile.

  Charles beamed. She was amazing, her company far preferable to Amy and her scowls. Maybe her sleeping with Ken was just one of those awful, jealous rumors girls spread about each other. Raquel turned her head, and he spotted a hickey on her neck. His hope plummeted faster than a falling elevator. He joined her on a leather couch and downed the rest of his drink in one.

  They spent the next few hours talking, laughing, and drinking too much. Charles entertained her by making up wild theories about the other party guests. He threw in a few supernatural creatures, embellishing the truth with creative twists that she found hysterical. He flopped his head onto the back of the couch and giggled sadly to himself. If only humans were allowed to know about the supernatural world. His magical abilities might score him points. Her head came to rest on his shoulder. Charles draped an arm around her and smiled broadly at the ceiling. Alcohol was doing a good enough job on its own.

  By 2 A.M. they were wasted. He walked her to her room and wound up cuddling with her on her bed, their lips locked together in a feverish frenzy. Charles wasn’t sure if he was kissing her right, but he was finding it hard to care and Raquel was offering no objections. Time seemed to accelerate as they made out with drunken passion. Blissful fog had blanketed his brain and Raquel’s bra was on the floor. He blinked in shock. When had that happened? He was pretty sure she must have done it because he had no clue how bras worked, and according to Zack they were tricky at times.

  His phone rang, distant and unimportant. He ignored it. It kept ringing.

  “You gonna get that?” Raquel slurred.

  Charles dug his phone out of his pocket and went to switch it off. He checked the caller ID and groaned into a pillow. Why was his mother calling him at 2:00 in the morning? His drunken fog thinned enough for him to remember it was 5 A.M. in Toronto. His mom worked for the paper. Had she gone in early to cover an urgent story?

  He stabbed the accept call icon and answered with an embittered grunt. “Hello?”

  “Hi hon, I hope I didn’t wake you.” His mother’s warm, soothing voice made him instantly homesick.

  What would she do if she knew her darling, star student son was lying drunk in bed with an equally drunk cheerleader? “It’s fine. What’s up?” He forced casual grogginess into his tone.

  “I have some disturbing news.” Her voice was calm, but her words vibrated with tension.

  “What is it?” He sat up. Her carefully measured tone reminded him of the weeks after his dad had been murdered, when she had spoken in calm, halting sentences to avoid screaming or crying in front of him. He imagined her sitting at her large, oak desk, nervously winding a lock of hair around her index finger. A knot of anxiety lodged in his stomach.

  “Are you sure you’re safe?” Her voice was losing its calm facade.

  The knot in his stomach tightened. He pulled away from Raquel and swung his legs over the edge of her bed. “Mom, just tell me. You okay?”

  “I have received a press release. Alexander Cardelle escaped prison a few hours ago.”

  His stomach clenched, knotted into a ball, and plummeted faster than a misfired rocket. “I need to tell Amy and Zack,” he said after several choice swearwords. He placed a finger on the end call icon. Realization slammed into him with the force of a physical blow. “Wait a minute! There’s another Dark hanging around with Peter Jenkins. They were both on the flight last night.”

  He held the phone away from his ear as his mother screeched with frustration. “How could they release him so soon! Those girls—” She had hotly protested Amy’s support of Peter at his trial, but Amy, in true Amy fashion, had refused to listen to reason.

  “What do I do?”

  She was silent for so long he checked to make sure he hadn’t accidentally hung up on her. “Not all Dark’s work together. It is suspicious they both know Peter,
though.”

  “Tell me about it.” Charles stood and slipped on his shoes.

  “You’re leaving?” Raquel looked offended.

  “Sorry, it’s an emergency. Thanks for a great time.”

  “Who are you talking to?” his mother asked as he galloped down the hall toward Amy’s room.

  “Roommate,” he lied. “I’m off to tell Amy and Zack. Thanks for calling. Try not to worry, okay? I got this.” He hung up before he agreed with her that he definitely did not have this.

  He pounded on Amy’s door. Jessie opened it clad in a pink tank top, black yoga pants, and fuzzy bunny slippers. “Please tell me you’re not here to puke your brains out, as well?”

  “Hey to you too. Who’s puking?” Jessie made him happy even when his world was about to implode.

  She pointed toward the bathroom. “What did you do to Amy?”

  Charles slumped, his happy vibes gone. “It’s a long story.”

  “You really upset her.” Jessie had an accusatory edge to her voice.

  Charles shifted his gaze to the closed bathroom door. The thing with Amy seemed so trivial now. “I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. I just wanted to know what was going on. Amy has all these secrets she keeps with Zack in their stupid, little couple bubble.”

  “You feel left out. That’s understandable. But everyone has secrets they don’t make public.” Jessie had slipped into her scolding mom voice. Charles squirmed. None of his friends knew he was a mage. “You should apologize for what you said. If Amy doesn’t want to talk about her past, that’s her decision and we need to respect it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know this was about her past?”

  Jessie shifted her gaze. “Isn’t that the definition of a secret?”

  “Not necessarily. You know, don’t you? How did you find out? Did she seriously tell everyone but me?”

  “Calm down. It’s not like that. Chelsea used to go to school with Amy, and she told me some stuff about her past. It was back when Chelsea was doing everything she could to ruin Amy and Zack, so I didn’t believe a word she said.”

  “What made you realize it was true?”