Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4)

by Amos, Richard

  “Dick,” I muttered to myself. Who gave a fuck if they were bloodshot? Didn’t matter. Figuring stuff out mattered. Not letting the banshees get to me mattered. Finding answers about my mum and myself mattered. Confronting my dad, hunting down Mama Rita—that also mattered.

  I sat on my bed, deflated.

  All I ever wanted was to know who my mum was, what she was, who I was. I didn’t know what made up the other half of me. Human? Something else? I hated the secrets, the lies, that everything was hidden from me. What for?

  My wanker of a father.

  I hated him.

  And poor G was stuck with me because of him. The geezer could be out there living his life, snuggling down with nice guys, being free from the headache of me. Only, he wouldn’t be, would he? If he wasn’t here, he’d be out there as part of my dad’s team of ten uber wolves hunting Mama Rita.

  A knock on my door.

  G entered, wearing PJ bottoms and a vest. “You good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to watch a movie?”

  “We should get some kip.”

  “Are you sleepy, Aki?”

  “No.”

  “Then come and watch a movie with me.”

  “I’ll never get up in the morning.”

  He stuffed his hand into his pockets. “Rest if you need to, but I’ve kind of preempted you joining me.”

  “You have?”

  “Come and look.”

  I frowned. “What’ve you done to my living room?”

  “Just come and look.”

  I followed him down the hall to the other room, and my breath caught in my throat.

  Wow.

  He’d found some white fairy lights I’d clearly forgotten about, most likely used one Christmas, hung them above the TV. Some candles were lit, making the room glow and smell of vanilla, helped by the twinkling lights.

  Cushions and duvets had been manipulated to accommodate a movie watch, kind of looking like lounge chairs, but super-soft and squidgy with a duvet to dive under. The one on the left had an unopened pack of choccie raisins waiting on it.

  He’d turned my living room into a glowing den. In fact, it looked like a cute set from a cute romance movie.

  Shit.

  “Am I a total cheese ball?” he asked. “I just thought we should do something to take our mind off things. I got carried away.”

  I turned to face him, his body close to mine. Kissing close. “It’s wicked, G. I love it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. I love it more than the actual living room. Can I just live in here now? So cozy.” Rather than linger by his side, I went onto my spot, scooping up the raisins. “And look at the provisions. Amazing, bruv. A-fucking-mazing.”

  He chuckled behind me. I listened to him pad round to his spot. “I’m glad. We just need to relax. I thought this might help with the sleeping.”

  I gave him a thumbs up. “Nice one, G.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Think I’m gonna defo leave it like this.”

  He stretched out, putting one hand behind his head. “What shall we watch?” He pointed the remote at the TV.

  “Something funny,” I answered. “I’m in the mood for giggles.”

  “Giggles, it is.”

  Chapter Three

  Pink cherry blossom petals falling down on my head. Me standing in the snow in a spotlight-like beam of moonlight, a shadowy mountain on the horizon in the distance.

  Was it just me, or was that mountain different this time? Dunno. Shape didn’t look the same. Didn’t matter if it was or not, ‘cos the dream was always the same.

  The petals came down, the white noise crackled, and I got bits from a woman’s echoey and creepy voice.

  “Four moons you will know…break…moon… Mazoku…blocked…finding…”

  Great. Shame, there was zero clarity after two weeks of this shit every single night. I didn’t even bother listening as I stood there in the snow. If no answers were coming my way, why should I care about listening?

  “Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say.”

  “Four moons you will know…break…moon… Mazoku…blocked…finding…”

  So, it went on and on. I’d told G about these dreams, and there was defo something in them. But we couldn’t figure out a way to unlock the info. We were working on it, though.

  * * *

  My eyes opened after my nose had been triggered into action by a yummy smell.

  Bacon!

  Yes!

  I sat up, looking over to G’s spot. I’d slept in here with him.

  And?

  Rubbing my eyes and letting out a massive yawn, I went to take a piss, then stepped into my kitchen, stretching my arms above my head.

  “Smells bangin’,” I said.

  “Take a seat, Aki,” he replied, throwing me a grin over his shoulder. He was working some bacony magic with the frying pan.

  I sat down. “Is that eggs I see?”

  “Yes. Eggs, bacon, and toast. Want some coffee?”

  “I can—“

  “You stay where you are.”

  “G, you don’t need to make me brekkie.”

  “Payback. You always make it. So, now it’s your turn to enjoy my cooking.”

  Fact: I’d never had anything made by Gabriel. I liked to cook (my baking was better though), and kind of got on with making stuff seeing as these were my digs. Plus, I was always up before him in the morning. First time for something different, I guess.

  “You’re a guest,” I said.

  “Don’t even try that, Aki.”

  “Well, you are.”

  “Take this as me helping with the rent.”

  I groaned. “Ah, fuck. Rent was due two days ago. Better get on that.” I’d forgotten, so quickly fired off a text to my landlord. He was pretty cool, and I was never late with rent. Ever. He normally reminded me, but I’d heard nothing. Guess he was preoccupied with other real-world dramas, not too bothered about me being late to cough up the cash for the first time ever.

  G presented me with a plate of perfectly cooked bacon and fried eggs, then added another plate of toast that was all the right shades of golden. Next came the coffee and cream, and all was set for a proper bangin’ brekkie.

  It so was.

  “Dark horse,” I said after my last bite. “Didn’t know you could do this shit.”

  He nodded. “My mum and dad are both amazing cooks. They will blow your mind.”

  “Will?”

  “If you ever meet them, that is. Maybe you will. It’d be great if you could.”

  “Take a trip to Texas?”

  “I guess that wouldn’t be your thing.”

  I picked up my coffee mug. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  He shrugged. “Just guessing it wouldn’t be.”

  “Well, I’d love to meet the parents.” Ah, nut sacks! Why did that have to make me blush?

  His smile was totally fucking cute.

  “Be a good break after all this shit,” I added. “’Cos it will end, all of it, and then we can go chill with your mum and dad, and I can stuff my face with their cooking and maybe whip them up a cake.”

  “Sounds great, Aki.”

  If only we could do that right now. I’d be so down for running away from all this. Miles and miles between me and Dad, between the bad mojo of life. Maybe you can never really run away from your problems, but I’d sure as shit give it a go.

  “Your father called,” he said.

  Just like that, I lost my hard-on for a runaway fantasy, my zest for life. The brekkie sat heavy in my stomach, no longer sating me but wanting to come up and show off its new vomity identity.

  “He did?”

  “He wants to speak with you today.”

  “He does?”

  “I told him about the pixie job, and he said you can come when you finish, as long as it’s today.”

  “Nice of him.” Rather than slam my fist on the table, I held o
nto my coffee mug tighter.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, G. What can I say? When Papa comes knocking, I gotta go, right?”

  He gave a nod, just one. “There’s more bacon if you want it.”

  “I’m good, cheers.”

  I appreciated the attempt at shifting the subject. “Gonna get ready. Best be heading out soon.”

  “Okay, Aki. I’ll clear up. I’ve got the jam jars covered.”

  “Cheers.” Jars were handy to have for trapping pixies.

  I practically ran to my room, sucking in air. Going to see my dad was the last thing I wanted to do today. Or any day. I was scared of what I’d say, how long it’d take me to go off on one about Zach, and start making demands for answers about everything.

  Shit.

  Hold it together, dickhead!

  I stripped, threw on some boxers, blue jeans, a black tee, and a black hoody. Yanking on my fave trainers, battered but as much my babies as Bob and Rose, I tied my hair back and strapped my double katana holder onto my back, sliding the katanas inside.

  There. Done. All good to go. Rocking the usual Akira look. The ruby ring on my right index finger looked dull in the bedroom light. It’d been a gift from Mama Rita, an elf stone that hid my blades as well as traces of me from crime scenes. Helped out a lot ‘cos no investigator would ever be able to find any evidence of me being anywhere near a crime scene—no matter how much slicing and dicing went down.

  Did it still work? Why had Mama Rita given it to me in the first place? I guess to keep me around while she got her plan in motion. Now she wasn’t on Team Aki, would the elvish magic die?

  “Did you ever really care?” I whispered to my reflection.

  Frowning at myself, I bit back, “Idiot.”

  When I’d thought her love was real, it’d felt so good—as true a love as friendship could get. I wasn’t one for love, as I hadn’t experienced much of any version of it in my twenty-four years. Not real, healthy love anyway. And I guess I never really had experienced it, given what’d happened.

  G was different. I cared about him, but love? Nah. Not love. Maybe. Buddy love. He had my back, and I guess I loved him for that. Respected him massively.

  Fuck knows why that made me blush. I quickly exited the bedroom, sick of looking at my beetroot mug in the mirror.

  * * *

  “Guess he didn’t elaborate?” I asked G as we headed to north London in his car. I already knew the answer.

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “You ain’t got no reason to be sorry.” I adjusted my position, so the grenade strapped to the side of my jeans wasn’t pushing against the seat. Smoke bomb for pixies. As essential as the jam jars.

  It was moments like these, I missed Cindy—my motorbike. No more whizzing to gigs on her, or just feeling her beneath my legs, the wind in my face. Another baby of mine, my number one girl. She’d been stolen, and I knew where she was. Problem was, she was deep in the western slums, somewhere I couldn’t just stroll into after all that’d happened with Violet Cross—the gang queen of London’s west and central slums. She was a witch I’d hoped was dead after our last meeting, but she was alive and kicking, keeping a low profile after that spell she’d pulled off that’d taken out more of her peeps than I had. Bitch wanted my head on a spike, or my arse—she’d want to make her vengeance hurt for me killing some of her crew, that was for sure.

  Fuck it.

  At least Gabriel drove a car. Company aside, the best thing was not having to rely on the SkyTube to get from A to B. It wasn’t my fave way to get about, and buses were even worse, with taxis being like lobbing your cash into a hurricane.

  G’s car was always clean and comfy and warm. It was pretty chilly outside still with no sunshine, and with the summer season making way for autumn.

  We were heading for Finsbury Park, where the client was meeting us in a snooker hall. She was a pixie herself, having serious issues with a pixie stalker. She didn’t want to meet at her flat—she didn’t give a reason, and I didn’t care.

  G pulled up outside Smoky Sam’s Snooker Hall, close to the mainline rail and SkyTube station. A baby blue trail of light cut across the sky; the rumble of the train felt in the bottom of my feet.

  The traffic was steady and loud as it normally was. We’d been lucky to snag this parking spot—one of four. Proper lucky. Some guy rolled up, let down his window, and snapped at me as I was standing roadside. “Oi! What you doing there?”

  “Playing the fucking piano.”

  “You being sarcastic, mate?”

  “Nah, bruv. Can’t you tell?”

  He pointed a bony finger at me. The stink of cigarettes and BO wafted out of his crappy car. “I wanted the space, but you came and stole it. I need to do some stuff and—”

  “Is there a problem?” Gabriel asked, appearing by my side.

  I did my best to go through life looking as intimidating as I could. Gotta project some menace in this game, especially when the world was full of complete tools always trying to shit on the little guy. Put me and G side by side, the beta wins the intimidation game, hands down. I’m five-nine and slender, he’s a six-four and all muscle. I mean, no way would I mess with him, and I’d messed with a lot of scary bastards in my time.

  G wasn’t the beta werewolf for nothing. Not any old wolf could rock up into that position and hold it. Not for little pussies, that post.

  Boom. Just like that, the big gob had his window back up and was roaring off into oncoming traffic. He’d just missed getting shafted in the back end of his car by a bus, horns blasting at him to remind him he was one sad motherfucker. Like I’d give a shit about his business? What? Snooker? Diddums. Tough ball sacks.

  “You okay?” G asked.

  “All good, bruv.”

  * * *

  The snooker hall was dark. Black walls, dark wooden floors, and dim lighting. It was a proper smoky bar where the only brightly lit spots were the snooker tables. All the booths had a soft, dull glow, which had a surprising amount of people using them for the time of day it was. The place also stank of fried food.

  Together we passed some human players, unbothered by us pair of new arrivals. Two of the eight snooker tables were in use. I’ve never understood snooker, but I know G was quite partial to it. Or was that pool? Tenshi knew. All the same to me, though obviously, it’s not—learned not to say that after a few times as I always got corrected, and I so didn’t care enough to listen.

  The client was waiting in her own booth, a tiny creature of green. That meant she was in a normal kind of mood. You could always tell a pixie’s state of mind by the color their tiny, sparkling bodies turned.

  She was hovering over a plate of scrambled eggs. A tiny piece flew up into the ball of green light she was, and I heard her chew. Tiny creatures, but clear as crystal whenever they opened their mouths to talk or eat.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Trixie. Thank you for coming.”

  I was a professional—Trixie the Pixie would not make me start giggling.

  “Likewise,” I said, sitting down next to G opposite her. “This is Gabriel.”

  “Hi, Gabriel.”

  “Hello, Trixie.”

  The Pixie!

  I folded my arms. “We disturbing your breakfast?”

  “Not at all. You should get some eggs. They’re the best in the city.”

  Right, okay. I didn’t think that was true. Looked like a pile of greasy sick to me. “We just ate.”

  “You’re missing out.” Another piece of egg flew at her. “So delicious.”

  Not wanting to talk anymore about her manky breakfast, I got down to it. “So, tell us about this Bruce geezer.”

  She hovered there for a moment. Being that small meant I couldn’t read the expression on her face. Then she spoke. “He’s always floating around the alley at night, looking up at my window. He knocks and whispers through the glass. I need to get the windows done, but I keep forgetting. I’m a busy, single woman. I have stuf
f to deal with being a businesswoman. Anyway, I want to move and go more central. I haven’t even been staying there the past few nights.” Made sense why we were meeting here. “He still comes at the real night, never in the real morning.”

  “Have you reported him to the SCU?”

  “I did, twice, but both times they got here, he was long gone. I got the impression they thought I was wasting their time. They said they’d speak with him, but I don’t think they did.”

  Wankers. What was their problem? “Can you give me his address?” I pulled out my phone to type in what she told me.

  “I need him to stop. I’m terrified. I know people think I’m overdramatic, that he’s not a bad guy, just has a crush on me. But it’s more than that. I don’t understand why people seem to be on his side.”

  It sucked and was disgusting the SCU had shafted her like that. Didn’t make sense. “Sometimes creeps get through the net and get to be, well, creeps and totally unchecked. Don’t worry, though. I’ll sort him out. You want him dead? Locked up in some jam jar?”

  She floated a little closer. “I heard you can take his power.”

  I suppressed a sigh. “Yeah, having a technical fault with that right now. But death and imprisonment are options for you.”

  “Death.”

  Boom. No hesitation. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Kill him. I need to start sleeping at night again.”

  She blinked from green to blue—which meant she was sad. “I hate this. I’m not a murderer.” She sniffed.

  Lucky for you, I am. I didn’t say that out loud. “Don’t be. These things only end up escalating, Trixie. If this don’t stop, he won’t stop until you’re dead. Facts of life.”

  The pixie sniffed again, still blue. “I’ve seen horrible stories on the news about similar things.”

  “There you go.” I can’t believe the SCU didn’t help her. They were supposed to help with all problems, big or small. I’d need to put in a complaint ‘cos that was some scummy bullshit. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”