Louisiana Moon (5 page)

A small girl stood in the center of the grassy meadow, unharmed.

The wolf stared at the child.

A soothing wind blew hair from her face, tossing brown curls over her shoulders. Her eyes widened, and her slight body trembled with fright. Her tiny, mud-covered slippers twitched, her body poised to run.

The wolf slid through the grass as it approached the girl.

She pinched her eyes shut and held her breath.

Do not be frightened, my child
. The woman’s voice echoed through the girl’s mind. The loving expression calmed the child.

The wolf took a step forward. Its muzzle rubbed her check, nudging a couple of times to ease her fear. Unsure, the girl stared at the wolf.

You must let the beast escape before they come for you.
The woman’s voice spoke once more.

The child reached with unsteady fingers to touch the fur, and then jerked her hand back. Heated sunbeams caressed her shoulders and scalp even as her lips quivered from cold and fright. Tears threatened to spill over her plump cheeks. She withdrew her small hands, squeezing them together in a ball. Frantic, she searched for a place to escape.

Cracking grabbed the child and wolf’s attention. Shadows shot from the trees, screeching, swarming down and attacking the wolf. A raw scream burst from the girl. She ran in the opposite direction, far from the danger—

Kris awoke with a yelp. Hot tears threatened, stinging her eyes. Her throat burned. Sticky sweat covered her body with a fine sheen of moisture.

Shaking from the nightmare, the dream of her mother in wolf form and the shadows, Kris scanned the bedroom. Sunlight poured in through the sheer black drapery. No trees. She wasn’t in the forest any longer. The Soulscapes. Had they really returned?

Her stomach burned and ached. The beast grasped for an escape, clawing from inside. She folded herself into a fetal position to keep the wolf at bay. She wasn’t ready to let the thing loose—to accept her destiny. She wanted normalcy, human normalcy, and to save humans from preternatural creatures. Just not Soulscapes. Too much about them terrified her.

After a few moments, the acid in her stomach settled. When she glanced at the clock through the space between the tissue box and a glass of water, she swore under her breath. She’d slept past the alarm. Something along the lines of
Ryant would pay for his unannounced visit
rolled through her mind. Late nights played havoc on her psyche, and he had left way too late.

Throwing off the purple comforter, she slipped out of bed. A run, followed by a long, warm shower, would keep the wolf tucked inside. Kris dressed in a gray running outfit and her black Nikes. She tucked the gun into her holster and headed for the backyard to the water’s edge.

She needed to purify her mind. Fresh air might clear the scent and images of Ryant. Why had he really reappeared into her life? Head vampire or not, he would not be welcomed inside her heart.

As she ran, the words her mother said drifted through her mind once more. Kris didn’t understand how it was possible to recall her mother’s voice with such clarity after so many years. She wished her parents were still with her and able to help her figure out this mess. Maybe she’d move, find a different location and leave this new confusion behind. Her fight or flight instincts battled.

Switching her route, she left the dark area.

Nature surrounded her like a security blanket. Wind blew from the west, lapping the water on the rocky shore. She inhaled the fresh, salty air. The wolf inside deflated to a simmer, somewhat relieving the stress, even though the animal still wanted release.

The smell of an upcoming rain was in the air, slowly rolling toward her land. Tonight would be the best night to run the woods in wolf form. The rain trickling down her fur as she traveled zigzagging trails would calm her mind. Maybe holding the wolf prisoner for over a year hadn’t been the brightest of ideas.

Kris glanced at her watch. Half past nine gave her time to jog home, take a shower and prepare for the lunch date with Josh. She wanted to find out the email’s secret meaning.

Thirty minutes later, after a nice long shower, she chucked her shoes and new running outfit into the car trunk. She got in and drove toward Gretna, a couple of parishes north. Her weapon of choice, a .40 caliber handgun, nestled securely in her purse. She’d also stashed a knife in a thigh holster under her skirt for extra insurance. In other circumstances, she would have strapped her crossbow on her back, but how would that look in public? The gun and knife would have to be enough.

The trip took close to two hours. After she parked her tiny car into the nearest spot available, she looked at the establishment. A mammoth gator hunched on the sizzling tin roof above the entrance. A wood plank sign hung below the gator’s belly. Etched in white and reading “Alligator Alley”, the sign sported a big alligator bite on one side. A huge banner for the
New Orleans Saints
wrapped the wooden railings. Football. This was why Josh wanted to meet at the sports bar. He wanted to watch the game.

She slipped out of her car, readjusted the knife and glanced around, noting nothing out of the ordinary. Before she straightened her sunglasses, she tugged her ponytail a few times and smoothed the green, short-sleeved silk shirt and black skirt draping her body. Once the glasses were balanced, she zoned in on her destination and went forth. High heels scuffed the pavement a few times as she sauntered toward the entrance.

From nowhere, uneasiness wrapped her body with a prickling, menacing energy. She scoped the location again. Two men with dark rings beneath their eyes slid around the pub corner. Both wore cutoff jeans and holey white t-shirts, a bayou local uniform. They stood to the side and scowled in her direction.

Securing her purse closer to her waist, she continued toward the swinging doors. As she entered, cigar and cigarette smoke engulfed her. Underneath, the scents of interwoven spices lurked on the food the wolf craved. The beast longed for the gator sushi. Feeling as though it would gnaw her insides raw with its hunger, she jerked, pushing the beast back.

She took off her shades and stood to the side of the entrance, searching the crowd for Josh. A long time ago, during her stint in the army, they had once been in the same platoon. During one skirmish, bullets had lit a midnight sky and several of them had entered her body. He helped patch her wounds. Yet, curious as to how she had healed so fast, he secretly tasted her blood and learned her secret. When he told her he knew what she was, she’d figured he had to be a preternatural being. She grabbed his throat, slightly drawing blood, as she threatened his life. She had quickly licked a few drops and received the taste of his tart fae blood. Later, he explained he drifted from home and joined the military as an escape.

The army had become his home for a bit. After his third or fourth tour, he’d decided not to re-up and moved on. During the years they served together, a secure friendship had bloomed between them and they’d stayed in touch all these years that followed. Funny how things could happen when jeopardy played with one’s life. As for her, she had only joined as a means to release the anguish of her parents’ deaths.

Past meets future. Soon she’d find out why Josh needed to speak with her.

She watched a blonde waitress wearing a pair of flashy gold booty shorts and a tight fitted black t-shirt. A fleur-de-lis decorated the middle of her well-endowed chest. A few men held money in their clenched fists. They hovered around a table and stepped aside as the woman approached. One slid his hand up the back side of her leg toward her rear. She gasped and stomped on the guy’s foot.

Kris smiled. The grabby man hopped over a few feet, allowing her to catch a glimpse of Josh. Her smile disappeared. “There you are,” she whispered.

He wore a poker face, calm and collected. She inhaled a deep breath of second-hand smoke and made her way to where he sat. Several quick strides later, she stared down at Josh. His gaze was focused on the big screen, his white-knuckled hands clenched around money.

He yelled at the television. “You better tackle his ass, Shanle.” His grayish hair, sprinkled with black throughout, bobbed with his excitement. Josh then turned in the seat. He smiled at her and kindness shone in his blue eyes.

Pure glamour.

The scent of sugar spice escaped his musky cologne. Even if she couldn’t view his true face, the magic hid there. The fae secret he never revealed to her or anyone else, as far as she understood. Often she wanted to ask
would the real Josh Haskins please stand?

As if reading her mind, he stood. His small frame, plump in the center, expanded the tucked-in black shirt. Wrist length sleeves covered battle scars.

“All right, boys, the books are closed. I’ve got business to discuss with the lady.” He handed the money to a man who fit the bookie position look for the day. After Josh gestured toward an empty table with a
Reserved
sign in the back corner, she shuffled over. When some men, including Grabby, strayed too close for her comfort, she shot them a warning look.

Grabby picked up a longneck from the table and backed away with his hands in the air. Taking a swig of beer, he said, “You got a live one there, Josh.” He winked and strutted away with his chest puffed out.

She bared her teeth. About to give him a piece of her mind, she halted when Josh placed his hand in hers, then cleared her thoughts.

“Don’t, Kris. We already have enough on our hands.”

“Why do you associate with people like them?”

“Because I can tolerate beer and they can’t, which is good for me because I get their money and they go home empty handed.” An unrepentant grin danced on his lips.

True, she’d never witnessed a drunken fairy. Only fairy wine inebriated them. This left Josh sober to take advantage of the human weakness.

Fairies, like genies with their tricks, took what they wanted. To them, if a human played dumb enough with their games, the human deserved to lose. The fae never outright lied. They twisted the truth into a pretzel, until a person didn’t recognize
come here
from
sic ’em
.

She straightened the strap on her shoulder, bringing the gun closer. With a jerk of her chin at the leering drunk leaning against the wall, she took her seat at the table.
Asshole.

Josh withdrew his hand from hers and sat in the corner. Kris scooted her chair next to him, to face the open room. She didn’t want her back turned to the man or the swinging doors. She didn’t trust anyone right now. With her DEFCON radar on total war readiness, flashing red, she watched everybody.

The fleur-de-lis clad waitress steered toward them carrying a platter filled with a mega meaty burger. Her handwritten nametag said Naomi, and she was built like a backwoods Barbie. Piles of fries surrounded Josh’s juicy meal. He unfolded his napkin and laid it with a soldier’s precision across his lap. Before he dug into the food, he looked at her. “Do you want anything to eat, Kris? Drink?”

“I’ll take a side order of alligator sushi and water.”

After the waitress left, he lowered his head over the mountain of food and spoke above a whisper. “I went to New Orleans last night.” He lifted his head a fraction, glancing around.

The way he spoke the words intensified the air around them. Shivers tickled her spine and goose bumps lifted on her skin.

Someone jarred a table. Silverware clanged as it slid from plates and clattered onto the peanut covered wood floor. After viewing the commotion, she scanned the room again. No one posed an obvious threat so she eased herself back a bit.

With her strung out nerves on hyper alert, her body expelled more heat than necessary. The silk shirt clung to her armpits. Damn it. Her throat dried. She hoped the waitress would hurry with the glass of water.

Josh cleared his throat. “I went to the Darkworld hangout called Club Fifteen, near the French Quarter.” He slipped a fry off the plate and shoved the golden cholesterol stick into his mouth. “This is a place I never would have imagined, Kris. The club wigged me out. I figured I could handle anything.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Why did you go there in the first place?”

A few clients who’d escaped their bonds had mentioned Club Fifteen. People have to get marked in order to enter. Kris eyed his neck and saw no punctures. But marks could hide in other places.

“I’ve been working on a project that may be able to turn vampires back into humans. I figured, what better place to visit than the grand queen bee’s hive itself? I wanted to talk to a few of them, find out how they live and gain knowledge about who would be interested in turning back, if possible.”