Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (39 page)

“Well, yes. Since we’ve worked together and she’s
familiar with…”

She interrupted me again. “Understandable. Consider
it done.”

Saturday, April 22

4:56 A.M.

Saint Louis, Missouri

“I should be back sometime Monday afternoon,” I told
Felicity. “At least that’s what Jante said. I suppose it all
depends on how this goes.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” she replied.

“That’s why Constance is going with me,
remember?”

“Aye.” She nodded. “But I’ve never been able to stop
you from getting yourself into trouble, so why should I believe she
can?”

“She has a gun?” I replied.

She sighed as she slipped her arms
around me and laid her head against my shoulder. “I know you’re
trying to make me feel better, but I know you,
Caorthann
…”

As usual, my wife had a tendency to resort to the
Gaelic pet name when she was deeply concerned. I knew she was
already bothered by this trip, but her whisper drove the point
deep.

“I’ll be okay,” I soothed. “I promise not to do
anything stupid. And I’m not just agreeing with you to…”

“Don’t make a promise you know you can’t keep,” she
said, cutting me off before I could finish. “Just…be safe.”

“I will.”

She pulled back slightly and looked up into my face.
Her jade green eyes were already glistening with dampness, and the
corners of her mouth were turned slightly downward. I brushed a
spiral of wayward hairs from her cheek then pulled her close once
again.

“You call me when you arrive,” she mumbled.

“I promise,” I told her. “And that’s one I can
keep.”

The pendulum clock in our dining room softly
thunked, and then a muted whirr sounded as the spring began to wind
out. A half second later a dull bong echoed through the room,
followed by four more to announce the top of the hour.

“I’m loving you,” Felicity said.

“I’m loving you too,” I replied.

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed through the house,
setting the dogs off as usual. Felicity began shushing them as I
released my grip on her and turned to answer it.

“You ready?” Ben asked as soon as I had opened the
door.

He was holding the outer storm door with one hand
and cupping a travel mug in the other.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Give me just a second.”

He glanced at his watch. “All good, we got a few
minutes.” Nodding toward the floor just inside the doorway, he
asked, “That your bag?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll put it in the van and wait for ya’,” he said,
holding the storm door with his leg as he reached in and grabbed
the handle of the small suitcase. “Heya, Firehair,” he said,
nodding at Felicity as he straightened up.

“Ben,” she replied.

The metal door slowly swung shut with a slight creak
and hiss of the closure piston as he backed out with my luggage
then turned and started down the front steps.

I bent over and scratched the dogs behind their ears
while saying, “You two take care of your mother while I’m
gone.”

They snuffled and whimpered as if they knew
something was amiss. We never could fool them.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said to Felicity,
straightening from my stooped position. “It will all be over
soon.”

“I know,” she said with a nod. “That still doesn’t
make it any easier.”

Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes then
slipped her arms around me again. Turning her face up, she pressed
her lips against mine in a deep, longing kiss that was tainted
slightly by the sense of sadness it also carried.

When we finally parted, I pulled back and looked at
her before saying, “I’m missing you already.”

“Me too.”

I lingered for a moment, though I knew prolonging
the inevitable was just making this harder. I took in my own deep
breath then slowly let it out as I nodded. I turned to leave, but
as I stepped through the door I paused again then looked back at
her and said, “Why don’t you see about booking that vacation while
I’m gone?”

“For when?”

“For when I get back,” I replied. “You pick the
dates. Just leave me enough time to pack and get someone to cover
any emergency support calls that might come in.”

She nodded. “I will. Do you think we can go for two
weeks?”

I smiled. “We can go for as long as you like.”

With that, I headed down the stairs into the cold,
dark morning and climbed into the back of Ben’s van.

“All good?” he asked, looking at me in the rearview
mirror as I buckled myself in.

“Yeah. As good as it can be, I guess,” I
replied.

“She’ll be okay,” Constance told me, turning to look
back from the passenger seat.

“Yeah, white man. I’ll keep an eye on ‘er,” Ben
added.

“I know,” I replied. “It’s not really her I’m
worried about.”

“You’ll be fine too,” Constance reassured me.

“Yeah… Let’s hope you’re right,” I muttered as I
slipped my hand into my jacket pocket. “Ben, I need you to do me a
favor.”

“What’s that?” he asked, now twisting in his seat
and looking over his shoulder.

I pulled the glass bottle containing the salt bound
jewelry from my pocket and shook it before looking at it carefully.
Even in the dark interior of the van, I could still make out the
shape of the necklace peaking up from beneath the snowy crystals.
After a thick pause I held it forward to him.

“Hang onto this for me until I get back, and
whatever you do, don’t open it, and keep it the hell away from
Felicity.”

“What is it?” he asked as he reached back and took
it.

There was no mistaking that I was deadly serious
when I replied, “Evil incarnate.”

An active member of the HWA (Horror Writers
Association), M. R. Sellars is a relatively unassuming homebody who
considers himself just a “guy with a lot of nightmares and a word
processing program.” His first full-length novel, Harm None, hit
bookstore shelves in 2000 and he hasn’t stopped writing since. He
says that the biggest adjustment he has had to make with his
writing career is coping with the time spent away from his family
while traveling on promotional tours. Still, he approaches it with
the same humorously deadpan and occasionally acerbic wit that he
applies to life in general.

All of the current novels in Sellars’ continuing
Rowan Gant Investigations saga have spent several consecutive weeks
on numerous bookstore bestseller lists as well as a consistent
showing on the Amazon.com Horror/Occult top 100.

Sellars currently resides in the Midwest with his
wife, daughter, and a host of what he describes as “rescued,
geriatric, special-needs felines.” At home, when not writing or
taking care of the household, he indulges his passions for cooking
and hanging out with friends.

M. R. Sellars can be found on the web at:

www.mrsellars.com

Brainpan Leakage the M. R. Sellars Satire Blog

www.brainpanleakage.com

OTHER BOOKS BY M. R. SELLARS

The Rowan Gant Investigations

HARM NONE

NEVER BURN A WITCH

PERFECT TRUST

THE LAW OF THREE

CRONE’S MOON

LOVE IS THE BOND

ALL ACTS OF PLEASURE

THE END OF DESIRE

BLOOD MOON

MIRANDA

(Available in both print and e-book editions)

Other

YOU’RE GONNA THINK I’M NUTS…

(Novelette included in Courting Morpheus Horror
Anthology)

MERRIE AXEMAS: A KILLER HOLIDAY TALE

(Novella)