Immortal Moon (18 page)

“Um, okay, I guess,” Farrah stammered, a
little unsure of herself.

She was trying to be independent, I
understood that. But I also knew that no one had been nice to her,
really nice to her with no expectations of return, in a long time.
If ever.

“That wasn’t me asking for your permission,
Farrah. That was me giving you a statement of fact,” I told her
with a wink.

She smiled and her whole face lit up.
“Okay.”

I paid for the scarf and we moved on to
another stall. Watching Farrah rifle through clothes and helping
her pick out outfits was more fun than I could have imagined.
Within an hour and a half, we had three canvas shopping bags full
of clothes and shoes.

“Ugh,” I said, leaning against a table in an
empty merchant’s booth. “It’s almost noon, and I’m starving. Let’s
grab some food, go to River’s booth, and eat lunch with her.”

Farrah looked as tired as I felt. “Sounds
like a plan.”

We grabbed corn fritters and lemonade at a
vendor near River’s stall and took it over to her. She was sitting
on a bench looking bored. “Ah! Food! I may have to name my
firstborn after both of you. You know, if I ever have kids. Which
really, I probably won’t.”

“You’re rambling, Rivs,” I said, handing her
a paper-wrapped fritter.

“I know, sorry. It’s just been kind of slow
today so I’ve had no one to talk to, and I was getting hungry, but
I didn’t want to leave the stand unmanned because there were a
couple of kids earlier that stole some apples.”

“So you wanted to stay and protect the
stand?” Farrah asked.

I laughed. “No, she stayed so that if they
came back she could give them each a full basket of food.”

The pale skin of River’s cheeks turned
bright pink. “What can I say, I’m a softy.”

“You should have called a guard when they
swiped the apples,” I told her, knowing it was a futile
statement.

“They were probably starving.”

“Or they were little hoodlums in the
making.”

“Doesn’t matter. I have an open door policy,
and you know it. If they need or want food from my stall, they get
it. No questions asked.” Her tone brooked no more arguments.

That was something I loved about River. She
had a soft heart, but if you tried to step on her right to be
soft-hearted, she’d show you just how tough she was. And really,
her policy had never steered her wrong. Her vegetable and herb
stall brought in almost as much money as the pub. She gave away a
lot of food, but more often than not, people who she gave food to
either brought her money later when they had it, or brought her
other goods or trinkets that they had made in trade.

“Sorry, Rivs,” I said.

“It’s okay. So, looks like you two have had
a lot of fun,” she said, motioning to our over full bags.

“Yeah, I let Anya buy me way too much
stuff,” Farrah said, her cheeks now turning the same color River’s
had.

“As if you had any choice,” I said,
laughing. “Besides, you have no idea how much fun it is to shop
with someone who actually likes clothes after growing up with my
two sisters.”

River laughed. “Hey, I’m paying for
everything on your next shopping spree if it’ll keep her from
dragging me along.”

Farrah laughed.

We ate, chatted, and laughed for almost an
hour, only pausing for the occasional customer. It was the first
time the three of us had spent any quality time together. It wasn’t
the same as having Fiona there, but I was really starting to like
Farrah. And I could see her coming out of her shell a little.

“I hate to break up the fun, but I need to
get back. I have a hot date tonight,” I said. Jarrett and I were
going to have dinner, go dancing, and then spend a long night
together on his boat. It was my last night off before his leave was
up in two days, and I was determined to spend as much time with him
as possible, and most of that naked.

“Wow, I’ve never seen you get a dreamy look
on your face like that before, An,” River said. “Anything we should
know about you and Jarrett?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Nothing that
wouldn’t make you blush for a week,” I said, laughing. “I’m just
looking forward to a night out on the town and having someone pour
me drinks for a change.”

She smiled sweetly. “Good. You deserve it.
Oh, before you go, can you swing by Sarah Jane’s and give her
this.” She produced a basket of fruits, vegetables, bread, pouches
of herbs, and what looked like a bowl of soup. “She’s out sick,
that’s why I had to work here today.”

“Sure, I know where she lives. It won’t be a
problem.”

“Thank you,” River said, hugging Farrah and
me in turn. “I’ll see you later.”

Farrah and I crossed the bridge, and I led
her down a back alley into the slums. River’s shop assistant, Sarah
Jane, was an orphan norm girl of about sixteen. She had come to
work for River just a couple of months ago after her mother died.
Her mother had been a seamstress with her own very popular stall at
the market. She’d left a little bit of money for Sarah Jane and
despite its location in the slums, their small house was
sturdy.

I had Farrah wait outside while I went
inside, in case Sarah Jane was contagious. She was very obviously
ill, but didn’t seem to have a fever. Knowing she didn’t have
anyone to watch out for her, I gave her my scry-crystal so she
could call River for help if she needed it. Norms usually didn’t
carry porta-scrys because they couldn’t always use them. Fiona had
mine charged with extra strong spells by the Blade Chargers so that
I could activate it anytime. Sarah Jane protested, but I told her
she could give it back to me when she was well.

After leaving Sarah Jane’s, Farrah and I
headed back to Pinky’s where I was going to meet Jarrett in just a
few hours. We were absorbed in conversation, talking about the
purchases we’d made, and I didn’t notice the two men walking behind
us until two others stepped out from behind a building, blocking
our path. Wordlessly, Farrah and I turned in time to see the two
men only a few feet behind us. We were in a narrow path between two
buildings. There were no windows and no doors. The only way out was
through the men.

“Excuse me,” I said, knowing it was futile,
but trying anyway.

One of the men laughed, the sound chilling
my blood.

“Come with us nice and easy, honey, and
we’ll leave the blonde lass unharmed,” said a man with thick arms
and dark hair.

“How about you let us pass and I’ll leave
you unharmed,” I countered. To Farrah, I whispered, “You fight with
everything you got.”

She looked me in the eye, her gaze hard, and
she gave a nod. I knew she wouldn’t crumple into a hysterical mess.
We may have little chance of getting out of this predicament, but
she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Neither would I.

“Get them,” the dark haired man ordered the
other three.

Farrah and I stood back-to-back, and as the
men closed in, Farrah’s hand went up. A loose brick that had been
lying on the side of the road began to hover in the air. The four
men stopped moving, watching the brick. Using the distraction, I
plunged forward kicking the man nearest to me in the stomach.

The next few minutes, or perhaps only
seconds, passed in a blur. I was fighting off two of them but every
time I knocked one down, the other was there, getting a blow in.
Every now and then, I would catch a glimpse of Farrah. She was
levitating anything she could get her hands on to throw at them,
which was mostly dirt and rocks. It was keeping them at bay. She
was also screaming her head off, trying to catch the attention of
someone passing by, but no one came.

I finally had both men on the ground at the
same time and was turning to help Farrah when I realized she wasn’t
screaming. I whirled to see her lying on the ground, one of the men
standing over her. Her eyes were open, and I could see her eyelids
blinking, but she wasn’t moving.

“What did you do to h…” A sharp pain in my
leg cut off my words. I looked down to see a long, thin dart
sticking out of my thigh. “What the…?” Darkness surrounded me.

Jarrett stood back and admired his handy work. The fresh paint
gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun. He let out a sigh that expressed
both his satisfaction and his disappointment. The wheel house
looked nice, but it was the last of the maintenance he had planned
for The Minnow before his leave was up. Finishing it brought to
mind that he only had two days left.

The irony of the ‘only’ in that thought
wasn’t lost on him. He’d been a Black Blade Guard for almost five
centuries, and a Kukri for all but about fifty of those years. Up
until this point, he’d had to be forced to take his mandatory
two-week leave every six months. And he always took any opportunity
possible to go back to work early.

This was the first time in his long career
he was dreading going back to work. It was the first time in his
even longer life that he was dreading leaving a woman behind. Two
weeks was such a short time to him. Barely a grain of sand in the
vampiric hour glass, yet so much had happened in that tiny grain. A
whole life time had happened.

He’d done the most stupid thing he could
have possibly done. He’d gone and fallen in love with a norm woman.
He felt his lips curve into a smile, just thinking of Anya. As
stupid as it had been to get close to her, as much as he knew he
would ache for her when he left, he couldn’t regret it. He might
have the pain of losing her for decades, perhaps even forever, but
he’d have the joy of loving her and the memory of her beautiful
face to last him.

He laughed out loud at the sappy, romantic
thread of his thoughts. What he’d always suspected was true. Love
turned you into a weeny.

Amused at himself, he began cleaning up. He
only had a few days left with Anya and he was going to make them
memorable. Starting with dinner and dancing, and then a long night
of creative lovemaking. He was determined to take as many good
memories with him as possible, and leave enough that she didn’t
forget about him for a while.

He was cleaning his paint brushes in a
bucket of river water when he thought he heard his name. Dropping
the brushes into the water, he concentrated, listening closely.
Yes, someone was yelling his name. He turned and searched the dock,
but it was packed with people. He couldn’t tell where the sound had
come from.

Then he heard it again and looked in time to
see a young woman stumble awkwardly through a group of dockworkers.
She wasn’t running, but she did seem to be moving as quickly as she
could. Her gait was choppy and stumbling, and she swayed from side
to side as if she were drunk. She wore dirty, torn pants and her
dark blonde hair was hiding her face, but there was something
familiar about her.

“Farrah?” he called out.

The girl raised her head in his direction.
Her face was red and streaked with dirt and tears, but it was
definitely Farrah. Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Trying to
move faster, she stumbled and fell forward on her hands and
knees.

Jarrett jumped to the pier and ran to her.
He knelt beside her. “Farrah, are you okay? What happened?”

“Anya,” she said, her voice so thick with
tears and hysteria he could barely understand her, but there was no
mistaking that name.

His blood ran cold. “What about Anya? What
happened? Where is she?”

Farrah sobbed. “They took her. They told me
to give you this and said they would call after sunset.”

She pressed a porta-scry into his hand, and
then fell forward onto the pier as if all the energy had left her
body. The only way Jarrett could tell she was conscious was that
she was still crying softly.

Fury and fear raged inside him. Someone had
taken Anya, and they’d done it to get to him. It had to be Python.
Forcing himself to stay calm, he clicked into professional
mode.

Putting the scry-crystal into his pocket, he
pulled his own porta-scry out of the opposite pocket. He flipped it
open and pushed energy through.

When Sam’s face popped up, he didn’t bother
with preliminaries. “I’ll be in your office in ten minutes. I need
a med-mage and Fiona there. Oh, and you better call Pinky.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“I’m not really sure, but it looks like Anya
has been kidnapped. Farrah just showed up at my boat in hysterics.
Just get everyone there, please.”

“Got it,” Sam said, and the connection was
severed.

Jarrett flipped the leather case over the
crystal and slipped the scry back in his pocket. Leaning over, he
put his hand on the crying girl’s shoulder.

“Farrah, sweetie,” he said, his voice soft.
“I’m going to pick you up now. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice weak and
hoarse.

Gently, he scooped her up into his arms. He
wanted to run like he had the night before when Anya had been hurt
and in his arms, but he didn’t dare. He’d known essentially how
Anya was hurt, and had been careful not to jar her leg. He had no
idea what might have been done to Farrah and didn’t want to risk
further injury. He began walking as briskly as he could.