Sweet Moon Dreams

by Rose Marie Wolf

  Slowly, he began to walk around the side of the cars, along the side of the house and into the back. A set of tire marks imprinted in grass caused Eric to raise an eyebrow momentarily. He moved on behind the house.

  More tire markings had been dug into the mud. They left deep impressions where it had sat. It had ruined any resemblance of grass, and was quite noticeable. His eyes followed the trails as it had cut back, and went back along the side of the drive and house. Another car had been here, and it seemed whoever was driving had left in a very big hurry.

  But still none of it made sense.

  He watched the windows of the place. There were lights on, but he could see nothing else. He thought it over, removed his sidearm from its holster and then motioned Michael to follow him.

  The two men walked around the house. They kept their guard up and found the back door. To their surprise, it was unlocked and partially opened. Eric took this as a bad sign and signaled for Michael to be his backup. The young man nodded and waited for his cue. He drew his handgun from its holster and flipped the safety off.

  With one solid kick, Eric knocked open the backdoor. A dim yellow light shone in a room just adjacent from him, and he wasn’t taking any chances. With his gun drawn in one hand and his flashlight in the other, Eric proceeded into the house.

  The yellow light cast ugly shadows upon the walls, and Eric checked the lighted room first before continuing. Michael was not far behind him.

  It was in the next room they made the grim discovery. Furniture lay overturned in what appeared to have been a scuffle, and dried blood flaked on the carpet and walls. The body of a blonde female lay lifeless near the door, a pool of congealed blood soaked and dried into the carpet from a massive head wound.

  Marcus' body lay several feet from her, in his own pool of blood. Eric took a slow step toward him. Michael stared in shock at the bodies.

  “God…” he breathed. He stopped in the doorway, unable to move any farther. He looked as if he would be sick.

  Eric said nothing as he crouched down and examined Marcus. The older man’s limp body had multiple gunshot wounds, and the angle of the wrist was off. It had been broken. Eric stood to his full height.

  Simon wouldn’t be happy at all. And he had to be the one to deliver the news. At least they had found him.

  “What a mess. I have to call Simon,” he said and flipped off his flashlight. He returned it to its place at his belt and removed his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed the number and waited as it began to ring.

  * * *

  The cool water washed away the sweat and grime from his body and Jason imagined it washed away all of his worries, too. He envisioned the water swirled all his fears and anger down the drain.

  Once out of the shower, he dried himself off with the standard white towels that were typical of these little roadside hotels. His anxiety only grew.

  He dressed quickly in fresh clean clothes. It took a moment or so to run a comb through the gnarled locks of his hair. Jason faced his reflection and shook his head. His long hair sprayed water droplets across the mirror’s face. His eyes were bloodshot, he noticed, and his face held that grim, determined look he usually got when faced with a difficult situation.

  He knew there would only be one way to truly get rid of his fears and that was destroying whatever it was causing them. Sooner or later, he would have to face it. They couldn’t take running for very long.

  When he stepped out of the door, he was greeted with the sight of Rose as she lay on the bed. She dozed quietly. For some reason, it brought a faint smile across his lips. She needed her rest. Even though her wounds had fully healed, he still could sense she was weak and needed her strength. And like a good mate, he would let her sleep. She needed it more than he did.

  He walked across the floor of the room. He gathered up some items and articles of clothing and stuffed them into the duffel bag. He stared at her. A few more minutes, he decided, then he would wake her and they would leave.

  The light outside the hotel had turned a dark blue-black, and nightfall was well underway. He pulled back the blinds just enough to see out into the parking lot. There were new vehicles in the driveway, and another approaching. He sighed and withdrew himself from the blinds and finished packing.

  Rose stirred maybe once or twice the entire time, but Jason was so sure she would awaken prematurely. He tried to keep the noise down. Once everything was packed and in place, he grabbed the card key from the bedside table.

  But he lingered a moment and stared down at her. Her face was pale and her dark hair framed her cheeks while short wisps of it fell across her eyelids. Gently, with the softest touch he could, he brushed those hairs back onto her forehead.

  “I’ll be back soon, Rose…I promise you.” His words barely came out in a whisper. He slipped away from the bedside and out the door. Once outside, he immediately secured the duffel bag into the small compartment of the bike. It took some more punching, like before, but he was able to fit it.

  It was only a simple matter of checking out and waking Rose…then they would be well on the way to a safe place.

  At least, he hoped.

  * * *

  There was an intense air in the room, and no one dared to even breathe. Simon paced back and forth. Claire’s eyes followed his every movement. He hadn’t said two words to Eric. He listened intently to what Eric had to say. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. Simon’s face had taken on a tense, clenched-jaw look.

  And Claire knew it was best to avoid him. He was pissed. Davis, however, didn’t see Claire’s logic.

  “What is it?” he asked the moment Simon picked up the phone. A few angry glares from both Claire and Simon hadn’t shut him up.

  Simon threw another poisonous glare directly at Davis. The doped man gave no notice. He leaned back on the pillows of the bed and groaned. His arm was still thrown over his face. It hid his eyes and forehead from view. Claire stared at him a moment, shook her head and turned her attention to Simon.

  There was a moment when it seemed Simon would crush the phone within his angered grasp, but instead, he took a deep breath. His nostrils flared as the air exhaled through his nose. He spoke in a low voice.

  “Get rid of everything. Burn it down, lose the car. Just…get rid of it. You know where to find us when you’re done with that. And don’t take all night.”

  And that was it. The phone call ended. With an annoyed sigh, Simon tossed the device onto the bed. Without warning, he kicked a desk chair and it flew across the room. It hit the wall next to Claire with such force it shattered the wooden legs.

  Claire flinched and instinctively covered her face and head from the splintering pieces. Immediately after the chair, or what was left of it, settled to the floor, she was on her feet.

  “What the hell is your problem?” she asked, suddenly vehement. She stared at Simon. His eyes seemed to blaze with some deep-seeded fire. She backed off, but still stared at him. She waited for an answer.

  “They found him. Marcus.”

  “And?” Davis interjected. He sat up on the bed and looked over at Simon. There was a mixed look of annoyance and confusion upon his face.

  “He’s dead,” Simon answered.

  A wave of shock shot through the room. Claire’s mouth gaped open stupidly, and Davis let out a breath of something that sounded like, “Fuck…”

  Simon took a deep breath, exhaled and turned back toward the computer. His anger had already seemed to subside. His fingers moved quickly over the computer keys. Claire finally regained her composure and approached him. She hoped to catch a glimpse of what he was doing.

  But his broad shoulders blocked her view. Instead, she inquired, “So…what are we going to do now?” Davis was silent. He opened his pill bottle and took a few more caplets of the pain numbing medication.

  Simon hesitated before he answered. He opened his mouth, closed it and continued with his typing. Claire was patient however. She crossed her arms and walked across the floor
. She sat on the bed next to Davis and sighed.

  “This complicates everything,” Simon said. He glanced at Davis with a slight sneer. His voice was angry. “If you and Marcus had listened to what I told you, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Just what the fuck was Marcus doing way out there? What was he doing?”

  Davis seemed flustered at first for words. Claire looked at him expectantly, as did Simon. A cold sweat had broken out across his forehead. The words finally came out of Davis

  “We thought…well…we wanted to do our own investigating and find out what was really going on…”

  Simon scoffed and rolled his eyes. Davis went silent. He knew Simon wasn’t buying it, not for a second.

  “I’ve had enough shit from both of you. Marcus is dead, they are on the run, and it’s all thanks to you and Marcus wanting to play detective.” Simon let out something that sounded very much like an annoyed growl and turned his attention away from Davis.

  “You’re lucky I don’t do something to get rid of you,” Simon stated. “We never should’ve picked your sorry ass off the road.” He turned to Claire, but he said nothing to her.

  Claire was glad for that. She hadn’t known Simon for very long, but she knew enough now to avoid his raging temper. Silently, she stood from the bed and returned to her previous seat. She kicked away a piece of splintered wood in her path.

  Davis was trying to appeal his situation to Simon.

  “It wasn’t my fault! It was all his idea! He thought if we cornered them, we could get a lot more answers than just sitting around, waiting for shit to happen…like you were planning on doing…”

  “What I was planning?” Simon once more stopped what he was doing and turned his livid gaze onto Davis. His voice became lower, angrier and darker than Claire had ever heard before. “My plan was flawless, Davis…”

  Claire didn’t have to see the scared look in Davis’ eyes or the pallor that had taken over his features temporarily to know Simon’s words had hit hard. He immediately went silent. Simon’s voice held an edge, a dangerous quality that caused Claire to shiver.

  “My plan…was perfect.” Simon chose his words carefully, and spoke them slowly. “My plan was laid out seamlessly and everything was going as I had wanted.” He paused a moment, and then turned away.

  It was as if something else had demanded his attention and he began to take out folders from the laptop’s case, folders that had been hidden inside. Claire did not recognize the black folders, and she could barely make out the small writing on the tabs. She wanted to question him, but Simon had already begun.

  “This,” he said as he held up one of the files, “was the foundation of my plan. Without these files, we wouldn’t have gotten this far. It has all the information we need.” He tossed the one in his hand at Claire.

  She caught it and raised an eyebrow as she read the outside tab.

  “What is this?” She asked.

  “Read it. You may learn something.”

  “The Paranormal Research and Development Institute?” she read aloud. She scanned the papers within. Claire stared at a photograph of a woman she didn’t know. She had dark hair, and though the picture was black and white, she could tell her eyes were a light color.

  “That,” he pointed at the picture in her hand, “is one of our suspects. The PRDI, an institute created to help others with their paranormal gifts and psychic abilities. They accommodate psychics, vampires, werewolves… You get the idea.”

  Davis sat up and shook his head. He said nothing and gingerly touched the hard swollen lump that had been a long time forming on his forehead. Claire threw a glance at him, then back to Simon.

  “Wait a minute…vampires…werewolves…are you fucking serious?” she asked. She stared down at the photograph of the dark-haired woman. She certainly didn’t look like a vampire or a werewolf—not like any Claire had ever seen on television.

  Simon narrowed his eyes at her a moment. “Yes, I’m fucking serious. What did you think I was recruiting you for, Claire? Why do you think I needed all this technology? You think I’m just a freelance detective or something?”

  Claire found herself at a loss for words. She hadn’t really questioned what it was all about, and she felt a wave of stupidity wash over her. How could she have not realized it was something more than that? How could she have not thought to ask? This never would’ve crossed her mind.

  She shook her head. “They don’t exist. Creatures like that aren’t real. They’re in movies, on TV. They write about them in fiction books. They don’t exist,” she said.

  Simon’s lip curled in a wicked sneer. “Oh…they are very much real. I can assure you. They exist, and the ones we are after are werewolves. The female killed Marcus, I’m sure of it. The house they found him at was the house of a good friend of hers… The boyfriend is just an accomplice. He probably sees himself as her protector.” His sneer deepened. “They do things like that.”

  It was all too much for Claire. She stared dumbly at Simon. He finished his speech and flipped through another file. Her gaze fell onto the open folder in her lap. She stared at the words. “Werewolf”, “lycanthropy”, “werekin” and many more caught her attention. She shook her head and closed the file. This couldn’t be possible.

  Her gaze shifted to look at Davis. He stared at her. It was almost as if he knew what she was thinking.

  “It may seem fucked up,” he said. “But it’s true.”

  “How do you know?” Claire asked. She questioned Simon as well. “How do you both know it’s true? What if you’re wrong?”

  Simon peeked over his shoulder at her. His dark eyes seemed to glow for a moment. “I’ve seen them. I’ve killed a lot of them. I’m not wrong.”

  Claire’s hands were clammy and she wiped them on her jeans. She looked over at Davis. He gave a shrug.

  “I’ve never actually seen one—in wolf form, I mean—but I believe Simon and I believed Marcus. If they say they’ve seen them, then that’s good enough for me.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to form more words. Oh God, I’m stuck with a bunch of crazies.

  “What do you plan on doing?” she asked. She feared she already knew the answer

  “We’re going to interrogate them and kill them once we’ve gained enough information to track down more of them. The world doesn’t need their kind,” Simon answered coldly. Claire watched as he loaded a gun. The metal of the bullets glinted in the artificial light of the hotel room, and Claire let out a gasp.

  They were silver bullets.

  She couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mind swam. These people are crazy…

  Simon loaded the clip finally and cocked his handgun back. It made a loud click in the room and Claire felt her stomach do a flip-flop.

  This cannot be happening.

  Claire suddenly felt suffocated. She needed air. She stood to her feet and moved toward the door, but she was quickly cut off by Simon’s booming voice.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Claire stopped and turned to see the newly loaded gun pointed straight at her. She felt her heart jump within her throat and she swallowed hard. Was he seriously pointing a gun at her?

  “I don’t have a problem using this, Claire,” he warned. Simon’s eyes blazed.

  He regarded Davis with his next statement as well. “No one leaves this room without permission from me. Got it? We need to be quiet, unnoticed, unseen. That means staying hidden, as much as possible. Sit down, Claire.”

  Claire didn’t argue as she resumed her seat. Only when she sat did Simon remove his lock on her and returned to what he was doing before. He explained further.

  “Marcus is dead. He probably deserved it, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s dead.” Simon glanced first at Davis, then at Claire. “And I would like to leave the body count to just one. So don’t fucking go anywhere.”

  This was serious, Claire realized, but she still didn’t know what to believe. She looked over at Davis.
The young man leaned back on the bed. His arm once again covered his face.

  She crossed her arms and silence once again dominated the room. Simon continued with whatever computing he had planned. Davis passed out and she wanted nothing more than to run out of this room, get in the car and get as far away from here as she could.

  She knew it would be useless to do so but the longer she stayed here, the more she knew she would die one way or another. This was some dangerous shit, and she had somehow wound up in the middle of it all. She wasn’t sure if she even believed anything.

  It wasn’t what she had expected. None of it was. She was scared now, and all she could do was wait to get out, or wait to die.

  Chapter Nine

  Rose had never been called lazy in her entire life, even when she was a young child. She had always been active, always doing something productive. It was that trait, combined with some PRDI involvement, which had gotten her published, and secured her a job with the magazine office. She was not one to give up on anything.

  But, in the light of recent events, it was the thought of giving up that haunted her every thought. And it was laziness that fueled it. Lying upon the warm bed, dozing, she was aware Jason had slipped out of the room and that she was alone. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay, to sleep, to dream pleasant dreams and be rid of the nightmare that was her reality.

  She wanted to give up on everything.

  Rose knew this wasn’t the best option, but it would be the easiest. That way, she wouldn’t have to face any more death or pain. She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling of the room. Sleep had fallen away from her, and she was awake. She mused.

  Rose knew she couldn’t kid herself. Giving up was just not in the nature of a wolf. It was something she could not do.

  If she were to give up, where would that leave them? At the mercy of the other hunters who would surely follow. And an almost equally horrible scenario played out in her mind. What would happen then, to all the others like her out there in the world?