Moon Dragon (3 page)

Chapter Five

Allison and I were at a place called Alicia’s in Brea.

Besides being a typical sit-down café, Alicia’s specialized in, of all adorable things, making to-go picnic lunches, complete with wicker baskets, silverware and checkered tablecloths. A picnic with Kingsley sounded like fun, now that I no longer shrank away from the light of day like a monster in a 1930s’ horror movie. Maybe we could go to Tri-City Lake. Spread out a blanket in the shade. Lots of wine. And lots of canoodling—

“Canoodling?” said Allison. “Are you sure you aren’t, say, a hundred and five?”

“A hundred and five?”

“It was the first number that popped into my head.”

“Oddly specific.”

Allison shrugged and bit into her smoked roast beef and raspberry jelly sandwich on, of course, a slender baguette. And because I regularly fed on her—which not only enhanced my strength but also increased her own witchy powers—Allison and I also had the closest of all telepathic links.

She seemed to revel in that. Me, not so much. Luckily, she and I had become best friends—and yes, to my extreme annoyance, she even used the word “besties.” Anyway, Allison had proven herself as a good and loyal friend, and a steady source of blood. Yeah, our relationship was...unorthodox. But we both benefited. Symbiosis at its best.

Except for the “bestie” part, of course. In fact, I might be the only bloodsucker on earth who has a bestie.

My life,
I thought.

“Quit bitching,” said Allison between bites. “You should be so lucky. I happen to come in handy.”

The next thought that crossed my mind, I regretted, but there it was, and she picked up on it instantly.

“And I am not needy, Samantha Moon. I have a full, rich life, of which you should be honored to be a part.”

“Oh, brother.”

“Well, you should.”

“Fine,” I said, picking up my own sandwich. “I’m honored as hell.”

“Don’t patronize me...”

It went on like this throughout the next five minutes, all while I ate the first half of my sandwich. It had been over a year since I had been given the gift of food and sunlight, thanks to two special rings, one on each hand. The rings had done much to give me back my life. Eating lunch in the light of day with my friend was a gift beyond measure.

“Okay, that’s more like it,” said Allison, beaming.

“Happy?” I said.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Now tell me about Nancy Home Wrecker.”

“Nancy Pearson,” I said. “And she’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Didn’t she steal your husband and ruin your life?”

“A lot of things contributed to ruining my life. And he was on his way out anyway.”

“That’s a lame excuse, Sam.”

“Well, the guy is dead, and what happened can’t be changed...and, well, it turns out she’s not that bad.”

Allison, who always got a bit jealous over my other friends, set her fork down. “I thought you were going to tell me about her sadistic ex-boyfriend, not that she
wasn’t that bad
.”

She rattled on like this for the next few minutes, all while I consumed the second half of my sandwich. When Allison was done ranting and raving, and when I had convinced her that no one would be replacing her “bestie” status anytime soon—which seemed to mollify her—I told her what I’d learned about Nancy’s ex-boyfriend.

“A werewolf?” said Allison, perhaps a little too loudly.

I shushed her. “Yes.”

“Have you talked to Kingsley about him?”

“I will soon,” I said. “He had a lunch meeting today.”

“So, I was your second choice?” asked Allison.

“You’re in rare needy form today,” I said.

“I’m not nee—” She paused. “Okay, maybe a little. What can I say? You either love me or leave me.”

“I love you,” I said. “For now.”

She stuck out her tongue at me as the waitress came by and cleared our table. I enjoyed everything about going out to eat. I treasured the small moments, even the waitress clearing the table, asking if I wanted a refill on my iced tea. I just loved it all. I loved the chatter of women from a nearby table; they were insurance adjusters from the nearby Mercury Insurance office. One of them kept glancing at me, a tall redhead who reminded me of Nicole Kidman. Some people sense I am different; some people have enhanced psychic abilities. They may not understand why I am different, but they feel it, and give me strange looks. Like the redhead just now. I smiled at her. She blushed and gave me a half-smile and busied herself with her salad.

When the waitress was gone, Allison leaned over the table said, “So he’s a bad werewolf?”

“A bad doggy?”

She giggled. “Yes.”

“You could say that,” I said.

In fact, Nancy had said more than that. Apparently, her ex-boyfriend did more than transform each full moon. He killed, too.

“Killed, how?” she asked, reading my thoughts.

“In a cabin in the woods.”

“We have woods here?”

“Arrowhead, ding dong,” I said.

“Oh, right, and don’t be mean.”

I sighed, and continued. “Apparently, he...preps for his turnings.”

“Preps, how?”

“With bodies.”

“Live bodies?”

“Yes.”

“But how...”

“Hikers mostly. Kidnapped, drugged, locked up in his cabin’s basement. Where he, in turn, locks himself up each full moon.”

“And then what?” asked Allison, eyes wide. “Wait, I don’t wanna—”

“He feasts on them, of course.”

“...know,” she finished, turning a little green.

The waitress came by with our bill. I thought paying was the least I could do, since Allison suddenly looked traumatized. Hearing about a werewolf exploring his true nature—his powerful nature—and feasting on weakling humans, didn’t quite haunt me the same way it did Allison. I also knew this was the demon inside me. Or, rather, her influence on me. Or was it? These days, I wasn’t quite sure. This should have concerned me more than it did.

“Well, it concerns me, Sam,” she said. “And thanks for lunch. I think.”

“Oh, cheer up,” I said.

“You sound oddly perky for someone who just told me that a local werewolf has a kill room up in Arrowhead.”

“Not perky...intrigued.”

“Okay, that might be even worse. And he confessed to all of this while asleep?”

“Apparently so.”

“What are you going to do next?”

I looked at the time on my cell. “Meet with Kingsley. You know, my
first
choice.” I winked as we stood.

“I hate you, Samantha Moon.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t...but don’t be surprised if you push me away someday into the arms of another bestie.”

“One can hope,” I said, and nudged her with my elbow as we left the café.

The red-haired girl watched me the whole way.

Chapter Six

I was in Kingsley’s office, waiting.

These days, Kingsley employs male receptionists and secretaries. I might have had something to do with that. Kingsley, a known playboy, didn’t need the temptation. Did I trust him these days? Mostly. Did he need a blond bimbo leaning over his desk with her cleavage showing, looking to move up in the world of paralegals? Hell, no.

I knew he loved me, and I seriously doubted he would do anything to screw this up again. Then again...

“Once a cheater, always a cheater,” or so my sister liked to tell me.

Except I knew that Kingsley was looking for something more, something real, and something with another immortal. Truth was, my own choices were quite limited, since I tended to turn mortals into love slaves. Not a bad idea in theory, but in practice, it was miserable. Try getting through your day when another is literally waiting on you hand and foot, and mostly underfoot.

Yesss
, came a voice deep within me.

Of course,
she
would approve. For all I knew, she was instrumental in creating the love slave bond-thing. Which made sense, since she wanted to enslave me, too. To control me completely and totally.

I continued walking through Kingsley’s spacious office. The hairy oaf was still into his moons. Everywhere I looked was another full moon. In fact, he had some new additions since the last time I’d been here. The moon globe was new, as was the moon mouse pad and, yes, there was an actual moon rock fragment sitting inside a glass case next to his wet bar. A single spotlight shone down on the rock, which itself was encased in a domed glass. How the man had acquired it, I didn’t know. Could you buy moon rocks on eBay?

I was leaning down, peering at it closely, when I heard the door whisper open, and felt a presence enter the room. A very big presence. “It’s from the Apollo 14 mission,” said a deep voice from behind me, so deep that I seemingly felt it in my own chest. Hell, if I listened close enough, I would have probably heard the glass case rattle. “It’s also highly illegal to own it.”

“I should turn you in, counselor,” I said, turning.

I hadn’t even made a complete turn when the big guy pounced, faster than he had any right to pounce, defying physics and, no doubt, straining his expensive suit to the limit. He was on me before I knew it, turning me all the way around, his mouth covering mine, his hair hanging down all over me. To say that he smothered me would be an understatement. To say that I didn’t love it would be a lie.

It took all my willpower to push him off me, which I did. He didn’t go willingly.

“Down boy,” I said, using nearly all my strength to pry the big lug nut off me.

He pushed back his mane of thick hair. He propped a hand on the wall above me and leaned down. I could have been in the shadow of a giant sequoia. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

I stepped under his arm, ducking, although I didn’t need to duck. I adjusted my shirt and hair, both of which had been thoroughly groped and mauled and pulled by his giant man-hands.

“I had the strong need to be felt up,” I said.

“Really?” He moved toward me again, clearly moved by my romantic words.

“No, ding-a-ling.” I held him back at arm’s length. The thing about dating a known playboy and an alpha male is, well, they have a high testosterone level, and they know how to get what they want. And they’re used to getting what they want. The trick is to make them earn it. Work for it. Beg for it.

But now, of course, wasn’t the time or place for any of that, as much as I liked to see Kingsley beg. I asked, “Do you know a man named Gunther Kessler?”

He blinked...and seemed to deflate a little, which wasn’t a bad thing, under the circumstances. Kingsley all hopped-up on testosterone and adrenaline tended not to be the best conversationalist.

He sighed and crossed his arms and sat on the corner of his oversized desk. I might have thought he was compensating with such a huge desk...but I knew better. The man wasn’t compensating. He was just huge, and growing steadily at the same time. Yes, the big oaf was only getting oafier as the years went on. How big he would eventually get remained to be seen.

“No, why?” he asked.

Unlike Allison and most mortals, I didn’t have a telepathic link with Kingsley and other immortals. That wasn’t quite true. I did have a telepathic link to the Librarian, who was immortal via alchemical means.

Anyway, Kingsley couldn’t read my mind, nor I his, which was probably a good thing.

“He’s a werewolf,” I said. “I think.”

Kingsley raised an eyebrow—an eyebrow that was one or two tweezings away from being a unibrow. “I don’t know all the werewolves in the area. Some, but not all.”

“How many
are
in the area?” I asked.

“A few dozen of us, but this is also Southern California.”

“Werewolf mecca of the universe?” I said.

“No, but a highly populated part of the country, although you will generally find more werewolves up north.”

“Where it’s cooler,” I said.

“We do tend to be on the plus size,” he said. “So, what about this guy?” Kingsley crossed his arms over a massive chest.

Did I detect a hint of jealousy?

“He’s a killer,” I said. “I think.”

“What do you mean?”

I told him what I knew about Gunther. About talking in his sleep. About the cabin in the mountains. About the killing room. About the feeding.

Kingsley stared at me while I spoke. In fact, I was fairly certain he didn’t blink either.

Just a couple of freaks.

The difference being, of course, his eyes glowed amber. What color mine glowed, I hadn’t a clue, since I hadn’t seen them in nine years. My sister had told me that my eyes had turned a darkish brown, almost black. They had once been blue. I sighed at that all over again.

When I was finished, Kingsley pushed off the desk and walked over to the wet bar, where he poured himself a finger or two of Crystal Skull vodka, which seemed fitting under the circumstances.

“Some werewolves hunger for fresh blood,” he said. “Or live food.”

“You don’t,” I said, and it was a memory I would rather forget. The one time Kingsley had escaped his own “safe room,” which was deep under his estate home, he had gone straight to a local cemetery...and dug up a freshly buried body. That he had consumed it was something that should have been a dealbreaker for me. Luckily, Kingsley didn’t have much control over himself when he was in his changeling state.

Still...so gross.
And I kiss that mouth.

“No, Sam. I don’t hunger for fresh blood. But many do. In fact, we’re very nearly divided down the middle.”

“Half prefer corpses, half prefer the living.”

He winced a little. “Right.”

We both knew what the wince meant...and we both let it go. I doubted Kingsley was proud of his actions. Then again, he had very little control of his actions, either, although he had ended up in my hotel room...and had restrained himself from attacking me.
Somehow.

I said, “Well, there’s a chance he’s killed many.”

“I don’t doubt it, Sam. Not all werewolves are responsible, Sam. Nor are all vampires. Some kill. Some love to kill. But, like you and me, many of us take precautions against our true natures.”

My precaution was feeding regularly from Allison—and, if desperate enough, from the packs of cow and pig blood in my refrigerator in the garage. Kingsley had a holding cell beneath his house. A safe room.

I said, “Well, he’s taking precautions, too. Except he’s locking up hikers with him.”

Food
, although I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

The entity within me was enjoying this conversation very much. I felt her rise up through my consciousness so that she wouldn’t miss a word.
Crazy bitch.

“Some people are killers before they turn, Sam,” said Kingsley. “And some of us give in to the darkness within us.”

“And feed the demons within us,” I said.

“Right. It takes willpower and fortitude to stay true to ourselves.”

“Tell me about it,” I said, and sighed.

As he drank, I considered having a finger or two of vodka myself, but I had to pick up the kids soon, and, although alcohol had no effect on me, it wouldn’t be a good thing picking up the kids with vodka breath. The principal already didn’t like me as it was.

Instead, I folded my arms over my own chest and drummed my pointed fingernails along my upper arm. “He’s going to have to be stopped.”

“I agree,” said Kingsley. “Let me ask around, see what I can find out on the guy.”

“Thank you.”

“And Sam?”

“Yes?”

He sighed loudly. “Please be careful.”

I stood on my tippy-toes and ruffled his thick mane of hair...and planted a big kiss on his thick lips.

“Always,” I said, and left.