Authors: Tasha Black
T
he cool autumn
air swirled around Darcy’s bare shoulders.
It was always strange to come out of the womb-like ambiance of the casino and into the gray indifference of the Philadelphia streets. If Stackhouse could have catered in fresher air and bluer skies from the parking areas to the front doors they would have done it.
Darcy jogged across the street to the parking garage, not allowing herself to run until she reached the staircase, out of view of the public eye.
She took the stairs as fast as she could, finally emerging at the top level, where employees were supposed to park.
As soon as she walked into the moonlit open parking area her stomach sang with burning pain from the tattoo.
And her senses receded.
Gone were the sounds of talking in the lot below, gone was the scent of the pigeon droppings.
Could this have something to do with her 300th moon?
There was no time to think about it. She had to find the kid.
Habit caused her to lift her nose to the sky but she couldn’t scent out Finn’s car like she should have been able to do.
Frantically she dug the keys out of her purse and pushed the lock button.
She was rewarded with a beep and a flash of lights a few rows down.
Relieved, she walked toward it briskly, shivering a bit in the air, which had suddenly gone much colder than it was when she’d walked out the casino doors.
Before she could reach it, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
God, it was impossible not having her keen sense of smell. Darcy felt suddenly vulnerable, an unfamiliar and odious sensation.
She froze, her racing pulse the only sound to reach her ears.
She scanned the area, but found nothing.
Pursing her lips, Darcy headed for the Jeep again. Another flash of movement, this time in a different row. Something dark and sleek.
The shadows rippled again, this time closer to her.
She knew it had to be Draven, no one else would hide from her. But how could they have possibly gotten here before Darcy?
She lifted her nose to the air and breathed in deeply, hoping against hope for a clue.
Nothing.
She slowed her breath and pulse to a crawl, straining for the sound of footsteps.
Nothing.
It was more than just dull senses.
Whatever was up here with her wasn’t natural.
As if to confirm her suspicions, a piece of the shadow from a nearby car wriggled and then broke away to melt into a form of its own.
It whirled and writhed for a moment before coalescing into a doglike shape.
The shadow-dog lowered its nose to the ground.
Was it looking for her? Trying to sniff her out?
Did it have something to do with the kid?
The shadow hound took a step in her direction.
Darcy’s tattoo screamed with fresh pain.
It wasn’t about the kid. It was about her 300th moon.
Talk about shitty timing. Darcy needed to get out. Now.
Fighting her instinct to run, she leaned down next to the beat-up minivan next to her, and held herself motionless, barely breathing. Maybe the shadow thing would pass her by.
She couldn’t smell or hear it, but she sensed its presence through the radiating pain in her navel.
It crept closer still.
Darcy used to play hide and seek with her brothers back at the farm. This was the hardest part, the moment when your pursuer had nearly found you. The boys were always too scared, too impatient. They would scream as soon as the seeker came near. But Darcy had been good at hide and seek - the best. Once she’d hidden in her bed in plain sight and they hadn’t noticed her among her toys when they’d glanced in her direction, because of her iron will to stay still and not give up until they had announced her presence.
She called on all of that patience now.
At last, the creature was close enough that she could see it. Her own breath plumed in the freezing air.
The shadow stepped delicately past the van, the smoky tendrils of its ears and tail curling away into nothingness.
It stopped right there for a terrible moment, then lowered its head and passed her by, searching the next row with an eerie patience that was distinctly un-doglike.
Darcy forced herself to count to two hundred, then dashed past the van to Finn’s Jeep at last.
She opened the door as silently as she could and slipped herself inside.
Only when the doors were locked again did she allow herself to look around the car.
The boy sat curled up in the backseat, swimming in Finn’s too-big shirt and jeans, looking both adorable and pathetic. So that was what had happened to Finn’s clothes.
She smiled in relief and he grinned right back at her.
Darcy felt a pang of joy. He wasn’t so far gone then.
She scanned the garage and saw no sign of the shadow dog or the goon squad. Good.
“Get your seat belt on, okay, buddy?” she said over her shoulder.
She started the car and headed for the exit ramp.
They had nearly reached the rectangle of light that would signify they were out on the street, when the shadow creature appeared directly in front of the car.
It rose up on its hind legs, shifting into something vaguely man-shaped.
Darcy’s tattoo erupted in agony.
She eased her foot off the gas.
The kid moaned - a small, scared sound in the darkness of the backseat.
Fuck it.
Darcy gunned the engine and pointed the Jeep directly at the shadow.
Bracing herself for impact, she pushed the pedal to the metal.
They passed through it without slowing. There was no resistance at all – like there was nothing there.
She checked the rear view mirror.
The shape reformed behind her and lunged toward the Jeep.
She was so focused on it, that when her eyes went forward again she almost screamed.
Finn had stepped into the street, waving his arms to flag her down, and in her preoccupation, she had nearly run him down.
She screeched the brakes and hit the door lock.
He hopped in and slammed the door shut.
“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” he joked.
Darcy’s eyes found the rear view mirror. The shadow thing was catching up.
“Anywhere but here,” she said and floored it.
Horns blared as she crossed two lanes of traffic and ran a red light.
F
inn wrapped
his hand around the grab bar and said a small prayer as Darcy flung his beloved Jeep heedlessly into traffic.
Though he was certain he was about to die or be badly injured, it in no way impeded his enjoyment of the ironic fact that he would go down as a passenger in his own car, clinging to the oh-shit handle and praying silently, just as his mother always did when he took her for a quiet ride on the weekend. Mom had been right after all, this thing was a death trap.
When the last of the screeching tires and horns had finished their chorus, he looked over at Darcy.
She was Latina, so her skin was the same pretty tan as always, but he still would have described her face as pale. Her eyes were wide, lips pulled thin.
Finn had never, ever seen Darcy rattled. And he’d witnessed her in action on more than one occasion, including just now when she was dealing with the goon that tossed his dressing room.
Those guys had frankly scared him a little, especially the creepy lady in the pink suit giving the orders. He’d heard them call her Miss Sharp. The guys seemed like they might rough him up a little - no big deal, and he knew he could hold his own if he had to. But Miss Sharp… She seemed like she would have liked to put him in a birdcage and make him sing.
Darcy took a hard left, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her tendons stood out.
Something had gotten to her.
And Finn was pretty sure he wanted no part of anything that could unsettle Darcy.
He tried to stay quiet and help her by being on the lookout for anyone who might be following them.
Darcy careened and curvetted a seemingly random route through the southern part of the city, past the newly constructed luxury condos and the old shipyard.
At last they were on the ramp onto the highway.
As far as Finn could see, no one had followed them.
Darcy headed south.
He could see her expression relax slightly as soon as they were rolling along at sixty five. But her eyes kept drifting back to the rear view mirror.
“Where are we going?” Finn asked carefully. “It doesn’t seem like we’re headed to the police station.”
“That’s the first place they’ll go. And then that awful woman—” she began.
“—Miss Sharp,” he heard himself interrupt her to correct.
“Whatever. She’ll have the kid back in a heartbeat, and we’ll be on the hook for kidnapping,” Darcy said.
Oh.
Well, he hadn’t thought of it like that.
Shit, she was right. And he wasn’t about to spend any more time looking at the inside of a cell.
“I guess both of our places are out of the question,” he mused.
“If it was just the kid, I’d bring him right to my family. They’d know just what to do. But I’ve got something else going on,” she said, glancing nervously in the mirror again, “and I can’t bring that to their doorstep.”
Instinctively, Finn looked over his shoulder to the road behind them. There was nothing unusual, just the same herd of cars heading down the highway at a relatively measured pace.
He chose not to push the issue.
“So where, then?” he asked.
She bit her lower lip, suddenly looking young.
Finn wondered exactly how old Darcy was. He had always seen her as capable, sexy, confident, more than an equal. Suddenly she seemed vulnerable. And like maybe she was in her late twenties, not her early thirties like he was.
“We need to find somewhere we can wait for help. Somewhere public, but off the beaten path, and open all night,” she reflected out loud.
“A hotel lobby? A CVS? A hospital?” Finn offered.
“No, I’ve got it,” she replied.
They drove in silence for a while, the gray of the buildings and the spaceship look of the airport fading into trees and swamps.
They were really in the country now as far as he was concerned. Finn had grown up in a row home with four sisters. All his family lived on the block. The park on the corner with its six trees was the closest thing to the wilderness he had experienced. Even now, Finn considered anything west of 69th street to be the ‘burbs, and even Drexel Vale with its close-set neighborhoods of Tudors with adjoining garages was practically spooky in his eyes.
This right here though, this felt borderline abandoned.
How could the bright lights of the city be less than an hour behind them?
Darcy pulled off of I-95 and onto a side street. Little clapboard houses sat like islands on seas of green grass. As they traveled, the homes got bigger and so did the trees that lined the streets. Gigantic colonials and epic Victorians peered out from behind the massive oaks and sycamores - porches with flags stretching out like waving hands. One of them literally had a picket fence.
Finn could practically feel a ring growing on his hand and 2.5 kids springing up in the backseat.
Oh man, the kid.
He glanced back.
Unbelievably, the boy was sleeping. He looked a bit like a shrunken Finn, curled up in his big shirt with too-long dark hair brushing the collar.
That would be a good trick. Except that the union wouldn’t want a kid performing in a casino.
He had no time to think about it, because Darcy was pulling the car into a parking lot.
A sign in front proclaimed
The Barry White Diner - Open 24/7 for a little slice of Heaven
Nice.
D
arcy sat
with her back to the wall of the corner-most booth of the Barry White Diner, feeling as safe and secure as any woman who had just kissed her employment good-bye to save a magician and a kid from a shadow demon-infested casino parking garage could be.
The kid was warm and cozy by her side. He clearly felt right at home with her, like he knew she’d had dozens of little brothers and sisters over the years at the farm.
Or more likely because he had seen that she could kick butt and haul ass like a race car driver and that for whatever reason she had decided she would rather lay down her life than see him come to harm.
Smart kid.
He’d even let her comb out his messy hair and roll up the sleeves and cuffs of the shirt and jeans of Finn’s that he was wearing, so he looked slightly more presentable.
No one in the crowded diner was staring. Tarker’s Hollow was like that - residents were prone to turning a blind eye to the unusual.
The kid still wasn’t talking though. Something had really shaken him up.
Darcy grabbed her coffee and swallowed a bitter black sip to assuage her anger. It was scalding and delicious - just the way she liked it.
Across from her, Finn lazily watched the cream drift out of the container and swirl into his coffee.
She tried not to stare as he added so much sugar that his spoon could probably stand up in the cup.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small metal flask, unscrewed the lid, and unceremoniously poured some of the fragrant brown liquid into his coffee.
She raised an eyebrow.
He smirked and tilted the flask in her direction, offering it to her with a wink.
Dammit, she felt her cheeks get warm again. She needed to get out more, Finn was hot, but she shouldn’t be blushing like a school girl.
“I’m good,” she said. “Why are you always winking at me?”
“Seems like you like it,” he replied, grinning wickedly.
“Well, I don’t. It’s… it’s…”
“What?” he asked, his deep voice sexier than ever.
“It’s condescending,” she finished, looking pointedly down at her coffee.
“I see. I’ll try to keep a lid on it,” he said solemnly.
Before they could say anything more, the waitress arrived.
“Barry Special, cheese burger, aaaand chocolate chip pancakes,” she said with a big smile at the kid.
“Thanks, Lisa,” Darcy replied, pushing her coffee to the side to make room.
The kid perked right up. Darcy slid the pancakes his way and he grabbed his silverware and went to town. It all solidified her opinion that the poor little guy hadn’t been eating very well.
“Anything else, guys?” Lisa asked, staring in open admiration at Finn.
Darcy had known Lisa since fourth grade. It was a small town and Lisa had always been super popular with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Not that Darcy was jealous.
“We’re good,” she said, a little more curtly than she’d intended.
“All-righty then,” Lisa smiled and patted Finn’s shoulder on her way off to her next table.
Finn smiled down at his burger.
“Friend of yours?” he asked.
“Why?”
“No reason,” he shrugged, and bit into his burger with so much gusto it almost seemed like it had done him some injury in a past life.
Darcy looked around.
The diner was a good choice. The boy had been hungry and this was very public. Though of course she would feel better if Cressida were here waiting tables tonight. Cressida was a wolf too, and pretty tough in spite of her scrawniness. She’d proven herself so loyal and capable that she was pretty much seated at the right hand of the alpha.
But Darcy hadn’t been quite that lucky.
At least if Miss Sharp and her lapdog, Draven, managed to track them here, surely they wouldn’t try anything funny in front of all these people.
She thought of the shadow thing from the parking garage.
What would happen if
that
had managed to track them here?
Being in a public place might not be such a good choice after all. Darcy had a feeling that that thing wouldn’t mind being witnessed.
She slid her phone out of her purse and looked up the number for child welfare. Not daring to leave the table, but well aware that the kid was right there and that it was rude to talk in the restaurant, she kept the call as quick as possible.
“This is Darcy Harkness, I’m at the Barry White Diner in Tarker’s Hollow. There’s a little boy here who badly needs help,” she explained as quietly as she could.
The woman on the other end took her phone number, and the address of the diner and said they would send someone immediately.
She fired off a quick text before replacing the phone in her clutch.
Well, there it was. She had done everything she could. Now there was nothing to do but keep the boy safe until help arrived and try not to think about how far from home she’d have to go to find another job.
Darcy pushed the bacon and eggs around on her plate. She wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, but she had an idea that it might be a long night, so she’d better eat.
At least her senses were back to normal.
She pulled the sounds and smells of the place around her like a blanket. The orange naugahyde booths were still hung with a light scent of cigarettes from back before the anti-smoking laws. The sounds of silverware clinking china plates and the familiar cadence of the suburban Philadelphia accent in the voices all around made her feel safe.
Although she’d feel a hell of a lot safer with a few of her brothers around.
But Derek wasn’t flying into town from the west coast for another week.
Chance had a big fight coming up, so he’d be out of the picture during the final stage of training.
And Johnny… was he still on tour? Darcy hadn’t heard from him in a while.
As if in answer to her question, the flat screen TV behind the counter popped up a picture of Johnny.
It was the local news. The sound was down, but she could still make out the captions.
The news anchor cut to a video of Johnny performing. But something was wrong. Darcy could tell right away.
On the screen, Johnny faltered then stumbled into a blast from the pyrotechnics.
Oh no.
She wasn’t worried about the fire. Fire wasn’t a problem for Johnny.
But she was worried about what would throw him off his game like that. Johnny was usually in total control.
Her hand went to her belly, and the mark asserting itself there. She thought she had a pretty good idea of what was messing with Johnny. Were her other brothers having the same issues?
The report came back on the screen, the captions informing her that Johnny Lazarus was later seen checking into the famous Malibu Sanctuaries rehab center.
They cut to a picture of him walking in the front door of the famous facility.
Darcy smiled to herself. Rehab.
Johnny wouldn’t even take
allergy
medicine. He’d never been impaired in his life.
But he was smart. Rehab would put him out of the public eye for his 300th moon.
And it would keep him locked away on the other side of the country, so he was no help for her here.
She glanced down at her phone again.
No response.
Looked like she was on her own.
Well, except for Finn.
Finn had been unbelievably helpful, come to think of it. He’d jumped in without asking questions, sharing her trouble at his own expense, like he was family.
That kind of loyalty was rare.
Finn was special.
He caught her staring at him and she didn’t break eye contact.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Pardon?” he asked.
“Thanks,” she repeated. “You really put yourself out there to help. Most people wouldn’t do that for someone they hardly know. And I’m grateful.”
She felt the boy moving next to her and turned to see he was nodding his head up and down.
“
We’re
grateful,” Darcy corrected herself. “Me and… what’s your name, anyway?”
The boy opened his mouth again, but again, nothing came out.
His expression was utter frustration. It looked like he wanted to talk, but had forgotten how.
“Can you write it?” Darcy asked him.
His little face broke into a smile and he nodded eagerly.
Darcy looked around. Lisa noticed and headed over, thinking Darcy was summoning her.
“Can I take that for you?” Lisa offered, gesturing to their plates.
“Sure. Hey, can I borrow your pad and paper?” Darcy asked.
“Um, okay, but I need it back when I get another table,” Lisa said, handing over her pad and pen.
“Sure,” Darcy said, handing it over to the boy as Lisa grabbed their plates and headed off.
The boy grabbed the pen and began to write.
Watching over his shoulder intently, Darcy saw an L.
After that, there were only unintelligible scribbles.
He took a deep breath, and then applied himself to the paper again.
More scribbles.
Suddenly he was stabbing angrily at the paper, tearing holes in it with the pen.
“It’s okay, buddy, don’t worry about it. You’ve been through a lot and something’s got you all mixed up. That’s all. We’ll figure it out,” she told him in a low, calm voice.
He dropped the pen on the table and collapsed against her side again, leaning against her with his eyes shut, his small body warm against her.
Finn leaned forward.
“Hey, it looks like you started by making an L. Does your name start with an L?” he asked the boy.
The kid just stared, like he didn’t understand.
“What are some L names for boys?” he asked Darcy.
She didn’t respond, not sure if they were going to upset the boy further.
“Is it Liam?” Finn asked.
The kid shook his head.
“Labron?” Finn offered.
“
Labron?”
Darcy asked Finn.
“What?” Finn said.
“Is it Logan?” Darcy asked, unable to stop herself. Logan was a very popular name.
The boy smiled and shook his head. He was getting interested.
“Linus?” Finn asked. “Leonardo?”
“You are terrible at this,” Darcy told Finn.
The boy put his right hand over his mouth and breathed heavily.
“Is he okay?” Finn asked.
“I think he’s trying to give us a clue,” Darcy replied thoughtfully.
The boy’s dancing eyes told her she was right.
“It sounds like he’s scuba diving,” Finn ventured.
“No! He sounds like Darth Vader,” Darcy said, surprised she hadn’t picked up on it immediately.
The boy nodded and made the breathing sound again.
“Your name is Darth Vader?” Finn asked incredulously.
The kid just stared at him.
“Anakin?” Darcy offered. “No. L. Luke!”
The kid banged on the table so hard their coffee cups jingled and nearly jumped out of his seat with excitement, nodding his head up and down and smiling.
“Nice. Well don’t worry, Luke, I’m not going to let any more bad stuff happen to you,” Darcy assured him.
“
We’re
not going to let anymore bad stuff happen,” Finn corrected.
Darcy smiled at Finn, noticing that his handsomeness was actually in line with his good sense - not in opposition to it as she had thought before.
The boy threw his arms around her, squeezing her tightly and burying his face in her neck. She hadn’t expected it, but the gesture made her feel terrific. This
was
worth losing her job over. Totally.
Darcy was definitely her mother’s daughter.
The front door to the diner opened. A tall man in a suit stepped in and looked around.