Forest Moon Rising (29 page)

I laughed. “What? You didn’t enjoy a trip through purgatory?” I let him pull me to my feet, bringing me very close to him. Allie got up on her own, dusting off her jeans.

“Is that what you call it?” Sean let his hand linger on my back as he escorted us toward my little hybrid car, the only civilian vehicle left in the parking lot. I leaned into him, just a little. Time to move on. Time to give up on my fantasies of a life with Gollum. He’d always have to go home to take care of his wife.

“Scrap calls it the chat room,” Allie added fishing for her set of keys. “Hey, what happened to all the stuff we bought?” She looked around for signs of plastic bags, full or empty.

“Gollum took them with the girls,” I said.

“So, how often do you have to do this?” Sean asked on a smile.

“Not as often as you might think,” I hedged. “Depends on who’s in town and how aggressive they are.” I eyed him cautiously. This could be the beginning of something special or the end before we got started.

“I can see life with you wouldn’t be boring.”

“Most of the time it is. I hole up in my office for days writing and thinking and researching and thinking.”

“Well, I have to say, that after the initial disorientation I had fun. When do we go after the bad guys again? And I really should do a full work-up on the girls so I have a base line if they ever get sick or hurt. And has anyone done an MRI on your brain since you had the imp flu? And ...”

I shut him up by pulling his face down to my level and planting my mouth firmly on his.

He stilled in surprise, then drew me tight within the circle of his arms. A little thrill curled my toes. His mouth softened on mine, became more mobile.

We deepened the kiss, relishing the tingles and pressure and the joy of beginning something new and wonderful.

Even if I was settling for second best, I’d never let him know that.

I
SHOULD HANG OUT WITH Blackberry and Salal. They hardly know how to brush their teeth or use the microwave, or anything.

At least their time at High Desert Con taught them the necessity of toilets. Otherwise, I think they’d just go squat behind a bush outside.

It’s getting kind of cold and damp for that to be comfortable. I’ve sworn off cold ever since Mum kicked me out of the freeze-dried garbage dump of the Universe.

I left the Chinese food for Tess when she gets home. MSG works wonders to counter my lactose intolerance, but when I’ve had a fight and tasted blood, I need mold, mold, mold, and more mold. A little beer and OJ doesn’t hurt either.

So, now that I’ve restored myself with the mold in the air-conditioning unit on the roof of the café down the street, (there is never a lack of mold in the Pacific Northwet) I grab my black and silver boa—evening wear don’t ya know—and insert myself on the dash of Gollum’s new car. I suppose his rattletrap van had to die sometime, or he needed something classier and more reliable now that he has the infamous Julia to drive around, but it was a glorious source of mold and mildew.

For the first time in like evah, dahling, Gollum drives slowly. He’s lost in thought, looking deep inside himself.

What is this? He observes stop signs even when there isn’t another car in sight. He stays below the speed limit and uses his turn signals. Not once does he drift out of his lane.

I hope he’s not sick.

Just after he crosses the Sellwood Bridge, he pulls off into the parking lot of a convenience store and calls home on his cell phone.

“Sorry I’m late, hon. Hope everything is okay and you’re just asleep. You probably took a pill, right? Call me if you get this message before I get home. See you in about fifteen minutes.”

Isn’t voice mail wonderful?

Now he’s worried. He speeds up a bit, but he still drives carefully.

How boring. Maybe my babe is right in moving on. I never thought I’d say that suddenly Sean looks like a better partner for her. At least he can patch her up after she tumbles.

But can he heal her heart?

Blackberry and Salal seemed strangely subdued compared to Sean’s manic euphoria. I guessed he’d never witnessed a fight before. Certainly he’d patched up the wounded afterward, but never been close to the chaos and mayhem. He reminded me of a first grader who’d just had the light bulb turn on inside his head when patterns of letters became words became sentences and paragraphs and suddenly made sense.

I let him carry the conversation while keeping an eye on
my
girls.

My daughters. I still couldn’t believe I’d pulled off adopting them and getting them out of their father’s violent environment. My heart swelled with dozens of emotions every time I contemplated them.

The girls succumbed first to full tummies and the listlessness of adrenaline depletion.

At around midnight, I guided them through showers and teeth brushing and the necessity of wearing pajamas or nightgowns. They got the queen-sized bed in the bedroom.

Then I pulled out the single malt.

We sat on the sofa, Allie and Sean on the ends, me in the middle pressed up close to Sean with his arm around my shoulders.

I watched Sean as he gently sniffed the heady brew. With eyes closed he took a small sip, rolling it around his mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and let out a contented sigh. “
Uisge beatha,
whiskey, the water of life. The only English word acknowledged to have come from the Gaelic.”

“I could learn to love a man who knows how to appreciate the good stuff,” I said and repeated the ritual. Sweet flowers and bitter heat burst upon my tongue and warmed me all the way down to my stomach. Well-being spread outward. Muscles I didn’t know had tensed unknotted and relaxed. The fist of God wrapped in velvet. “And I know about the origin of
uisge beatha
and whiskey and English. But I’m holding out for quaff as a derivative of the Gaelic as well.”

Allie stared at her glass of amber whiskey. “Never learned to appreciate the hard stuff. And I don’t want to argue word origins with you two. You two can share this, I’ll settle for wine. Did you leave any of the Riesling?” She set her tumbler on the coffee table and ambled back toward the kitchen.

“I’ve been thinking it might be a good idea to look for ways to totally separate the girls from their origins,” Sean said, keeping his eyes on the magic elixir in his glass.

“I’d just as soon they forget their upbringing,” I agreed.

“We could start with changing their names,” Allie said plunking down beside me. She gulped half a glass of white wine and laid her head on the sofa back. “I see it in kids adopted out of abusive situations all the time. First thing they ask for is a new name.”

“Blackberry and Salal do sound rather like they’ve been living in a hippie commune,” Sean said on a half laugh as he took a bigger sip of scotch.

“My Aunt MoonFeather would give them names like that until they grew into their personalities and they selected something that fit them better.” I couldn’t remember the rather mundane name my father’s sister had rejected when she joined Wicca and took a craft name. I’d seen her dance nude, as light as a feather graced by moonlight on the night of the summer solstice. She had selected her new name appropriately.

Allie giggled as she downed the rest of her drink. “When I think Blackberry, all I can see is a fancy cell phone.”

We all laughed at that.

“Blackberry. Cell phone ...” I played with the sounds of the words. “Phonetia!”

“Good one.” Allie and I high-fived.

I took another swallow of scotch. The top of my head felt a little separate from the rest of me. A gale of giggles erupted from my toes, running upward in waves of good feelings. “Kids today seem to have their phones surgically implanted. Texting their friends is like breathing.”

“Remove a teen from her phone and she feels like her arm’s been cut off. But they rarely phone home,” Allie added.

Sean nearly doubled over with laughter. “Phone home.
Phone home!”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you see the movie
E.T.?
” he asked incredulously.

“E.T. phone home,” I replied, my mouth threatening to gape. “Of course, Phonetia and E.T.! That’s what we call my girls.”

“What does E.T. stand for?” Allie asked, a little more sober than either Sean or I.

“Anything she wants.”

Shortly thereafter, I kissed Sean good night and sent him on his way in a cab. We’d all had too much to drink to trust him driving. We’d worry about his car in the morning.

Allie took the sofa, and I stretched out on the cot in the office.

I promised myself this overcrowding would only last a short time. Allie was due to fly back to Cape Cod next week to wind up her duties with the police force and finalize plans for her wedding. Maybe I should just set up a real bed in the office and consolidate the computer desk and bookcases to make room for a dresser. The file cabinet in the closet could go into the dining area.

Or I should make the living and dining area one big office and schoolroom and give the office over to the girls so I could take back my bedroom.

“This could work, Scrap.”

“My, aren’t you erudite and succinct. What’s the matter?” I looked up from massaging moisturizer into my feet.

I don’t like the tattoos on the gang bangers. We don’t know who authorized the protection. Takes some big bucks, some sneaky runarounds, or clout with the Powers That Be to put those tats on mundanes.
He sat on the desk fading in and out of the monitor.

I shuddered. “Don’t remind me of the Powers That Be. I can’t imagine anyone voluntarily asking them for favors.”

“Out of desperation.” Unconsciously I rubbed my scar. “I needed protection for Dad and Bill. No one else could guarantee it.” The scar burned and pulsed, almost as if there was a demon in the room.

There wasn’t. It was just nerve memory of the deal I’d made and signed in my own blood. The onyx pen stained with my blood lay buried in the back of the side drawer on the desk.

“Could Donovan have done it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But then I don’t truly know why he wants to create a home world for Kajiri demons. I don’t understand his obsession with me. I don’t understand ...”

A tentative knock on the closed door almost slid beneath my awareness.

“Come in,” I said, almost as hesitant as the knock.

The door crept open a few inches. I saw a single green-brown eye peek in.

“Come in, Blackberry.”

“How’d you know it was me?” She pushed open the door another few inches and slid in, closing it behind her.