Mosaic Moon

by Jamie Craig

  "I know you wouldn't," Jesse said firmly. "And I never, ever believed that you would hurt me. But this isn't about me, or what we've done together. I spent two years, Gideon, two years thinking about what it would be like if you bit me. I read about it. I know how much is safe. I was fully prepared for it the first time you bit me. I wanted it. But biting isn't a natural part of sex for humans. It's not. Do you think Emma has in any way prepared herself for that?"

  It took a long time for Gideon to answer.

  "She knew what she was getting into by walking into our bedroom last night," he said. He folded his arms over his chest, his gaze ducking to the side. "But no. She was thinking more about you than me in all this. I doubt she thought about me biting her at all."

  "I don't know what it's like for you when she has all her barriers down. I don't know if it's weaker for you for the same reason she can't read you unless she's touching you. But I feel everything so strongly. Right here." He touched his chest. "And everywhere. I couldn't...if she was scared, even for a second...if she was hurt..."

  Though Gideon softened, he shook his head. "I don't think it's weaker for me. But fear affects me...differently than it does you." With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the long strands out of his eyes. "All right, I won't bring up biting in front of Emma. But if she asks..."

  "If she asks, it won't be any of my business, will it?"

  "It will. But maybe not as much."

  Jesse shrugged. He couldn't deny the impulse to put Emma in a special, padded room where nothing could ever hurt her. But he knew how much he hated it when Gideon treated him that way. He knew if she wanted Gideon to bite her, he wouldn't try to dictate her desires, what was wrong or right.

  He looked over his shoulder to the stack of work, and then back to Gideon. Now he felt raw about the argument, he was even less eager to get back to work. He took a tentative step back to Gideon, his ire gone, his bluster deflated.

  Though Gideon took him back in his arms, his hold this time was more possessive than sexual, a calming strength to ease away the sting of the argument. "What work were you trying to do?" he asked, all the fight gone from his tone.

  Jesse sighed, his arms going around Gideon to return the embrace. "I know there's something I'm missing. I keep looking at those reports, and there's something I can't see. And John sounded very...impatient in his message. Which makes me wonder if he knows another robbery is going to happen soon."

  "Wouldn't surprise me. You couldn't find any patterns in the robberies at all?"

  "There are several shared characteristics between the cases. He's targeting rather fresh graves of rather young people. Some of the corpses were dismembered. There's nothing there to point me in the right place, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you how many fucking cemeteries there are in the area." Jesse took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind, focusing on Gideon's strong arms, and the smooth skin of his shoulder, and the way his own neck tingled just because they were close. "Wait, there are a lot of cemeteries in Chicago and Cook County." Jess lifted his head. "But the first nine weren't here. They were in Will County."

  A frown that had already drawn Gideon's brows together grew even deeper. "And fourteen total means five already in Cook," he said. "There's got to be a reason he's changed location." He looked over Jesse's shoulder at his open office door. "Let's look at the map."

  Jesse smiled, relieved by the totally expected response from Gideon. He untangled himself and walked over to his desk for the stack of reports and large plastic box of colored pushpins. He handed Gideon the purple pins and the Will County half. "Derek didn't have these at first, since they were out of his jurisdiction. Apparently, he's got a buddy in Will County who didn't want to deal with it either."

  "That's because passing the buck is this country's national fucking pastime." But Gideon's mood was already a little lighter, the puzzle presenting to them fresh fodder to focus on. Jesse followed him into the office and over to the wall where his large street map of Chicago was mounted. It was starting to show wear, numerous pinpricks breaking up the highways, and he knew it would soon be time to buy a new one. Gideon replaced it every six months or so. The maps in the office, especially this one, always took a beating.

  "Here." Gideon handed back the reports to Jesse and dumped a handful of tacks into his palm. "Read the locations out to me so that I can mark them." He turned back to face the map. "Do it in order. There's got to be a pattern to them."

  "In order. Right." Jesse stepped back and started with the reports from Will County. Each cemetery was different, and there were no repeats. Gideon found the cemeteries quickly, almost casually accurate. Jesse appreciated Gideon's exhaustive knowledge of the area, but sometimes it creeped him out a little.

  "He's going clockwise," Gideon commented, after pushing in the fourth tack in what completed a very distinguishable arc. But when Jesse rattled off the fifth cemetery, the tack hovered over the six o'clock position for a second. "Wait. Say that one again."

  With a frown, Jesse repeated the name.

  Gideon's hand slid up to the eleven o'clock position on his imaginary clock face. "Okay, that screws that theory."

  Jesse frowned and read the sixth place, which fell to the left of the fifth pin. "He's moving counter-clockwise now." Gideon continued moving that direction with the seventh and the eighth pin before Jesse paused. "I bet number nine is in the center."

  Gideon peered more closely at the map. "Was it at Mount Calvary?" he asked warily.

  "Yes. Yes it was." Jesse watched as Gideon placed the last pin in the center of the circle they created, just as he had predicted. "Do you recognize that pattern?"

  "No." Gideon glanced back. "Should I?"

  "Maybe. It's a Celtic enneagram, sometimes known as a compass enneagram. That's the pattern. We can plot a similar circle in Cook County and predict the next four cemeteries."

  Jesse stood at Gideon's side as they repeated the process with the next five reports, establishing the same pattern they'd done with the first set. When it came for the sixth, Gideon paused, glancing down at the circle below before hovering the tack over the appropriate spot on the map.

  "That's Trinity Lutheran. It's not a big cemetery, but the church there is still active."

  "We should go there tonight."

  "You should go where tonight?"

  Emma's soft voice drifted from the doorway behind them, and both men turned to see her standing in its frame, dressed in one of Jesse's button-down shirts. There were still creases on her face from sleep, and her blonde hair was a riotous tangle. She looked both sated and delicious all at the same time.

  For the second time that hour, Jesse was tempted to throw the entire case out the window and go back downstairs. Maybe not even downstairs. He knew from experience Gideon's desk was pretty solid. And it wasn't like anybody was dying.

  Yet, a small voice reminded him.

  "The Trinity Lutheran Cemetery," Jesse answered. "We think there might be a desecration tonight."

  She padded into the office, her bare feet whispering against the floorboards. Gideon's nostrils flared as she approached, but otherwise, he didn't move, continuing to stare at the map. Jesse admired his restraint. Even he could smell the scent of sex that lingered on her skin.

  "You figured that out already?" The smile she shot him was impish. "Does getting laid make you smarter or something?"

  "Already? I've been up here for the past four hours trying to sort it out." He nodded toward the map. "And I'd still be trying if Gideon hadn't suggested we use his trusted pushpin technique."

  Gideon snorted. "Only because I can't picture anything for shit in my head," he commented. "And I had no idea what that..." He gestured toward the lower circle.

  "Celtic enneagram."

  "Yeah, that. I didn't know what the hell that was. Jesse saw that all on his own."

  "Are you going to tell Derek?" Emma asked.

  Jesse took a deep breath. The last thing they needed was Derek ge
tting in the way if they caught the mysterious culprit in time. "No." His eyes darted to Gideon quickly. "This is just going to be a bit of reconnaissance."

  "Do you want to give me a ride back to my apartment before you go, then?" She looked between the two men. "Gideon pretty much kidnapped me. Unless you want me here for when you get back."

  "Kidnapping? You know, I don't approve of his methods, but since he gets results..." Jesse couldn't restrain himself any more. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a half-embrace. "As tempting as it would be to keep you here indefinitely, I'll take you home."

  Her fingers trailed over his chest. "It's tempting to stay. But I have work tomorrow and you guys are going to be dealing with John if you catch the guy tonight." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I want to be around for that."

  "That makes two of us," Gideon muttered.

  Jesse didn't know why they were wrinkling their noses at the thought of dealing with John that night. Didn't they know it was the best possible scenario they could hope for?

  "You don't," Jesse said, addressing Gideon. "I can speak to him by myself." He had more to say, but he was distracted by the way Emma fit against his body. He kissed the top of her head, because he could. "We have some time before dusk. Why don't we eat before I take you home?"

  Her face lit up for a moment, before darkening again. "Oh. You mean actual food."

  "Yes, real food. But if you're not hungry..."

  Emma curled her fingers into his shirt and tugged, jerking him off-balance as she pulled him to her mouth. Her kiss was slow and sleep-sweet, her body plush, and by the time she let him go, her eyes were black with desire.

  "I don't get to have you tonight." She stood on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his ear and whisper, "And we should probably thank Gideon for being such a buttinsky, don't you think?"

  "Hey!" Gideon said from behind them. "I prefer to call it getting you two off your asses."

  "He is such a busybody," Jesse murmured with a smile. "Thinks he knows what's best for everybody."

  "That's because I do." All of a sudden, Gideon grabbed each of their wrists and yanked them toward the doorway. Jesse and Emma exchanged quick smiles when he added, "And I'll prove it."

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  Trinity Lutheran Cemetery was not new, but neither was it derelict, the grass regularly mowed to keep the multi-legged versions of its resident nightcrawlers at bay. It was used primarily by the parishioners of the church still standing at the back of the property, but it had been years since Gideon had haunted its well-manicured landscape. By choice.

  He didn't like churches. And it wasn't a vampire thing. There had been a time when he had flaunted that particular superstition, showing up for evening mass and terrorizing congregations with blood-soaked displays on the altar. Gideon didn't like churches for other, much more personal reasons.

  But now was not the time to be trapped in the quagmire of history. They weren't going into the church anyway. He hoped.

  Gideon parked on the street by the arched entrance, scanning the length of the chain-link fence encircling the property. The trees were larger than he remembered, blanketing out portions of the sky to obscure the stars from view, and the headstones came out closer to the road. It gave the feeling of breaking free of the graveyard, but it was an illusion. As he and Jesse got out of the Ferrari, all Gideon could hear was the soft rhythms of the earth.

  "There aren't any other cars around," he observed. "Did our guy fly here?"

  "Maybe we beat him," Jesse suggested hopefully.

  "We should be so lucky."

  He led the way to the front entrance. The gravel crunched beneath their heels, softened by the edges of grass bordering the curb. A padlock kept the gate closed to vehicles, but rather than break it and draw attention to their presence, Gideon hopped over, clearing the chain-link without batting an eyelash.

  He turned around to see Jesse climbing over, his progress a little louder. "Any suggestions on where to start?" he asked.

  "The area with the most recent graves," Jesse said, once he was over the gate. "Anything within the last month, I think."

  Gideon glanced at the nearest headstones. The dates on them were in the forties, but they were too near the street anyway. Nobody would think to desecrate one of these graves. They would be caught far too easily.

  "This way."

  He led Jesse around the edge of the cemetery, leading him toward the plots that seemed newest. The air was sultry, with hints of a summer storm itching to make its presence known, and crickets were already starting to chirp. Any other time, and he would have dragged Jesse to a private corner to have his way with him. This was the kind of night made for lovers to fuck under the stars. But the ease was deceptive. There was a job to be done, and all Gideon wanted was for it to be over.

  He smelled the freshly turned earth long before they reached the corner of the cemetery with the newest graves. Jesse was close on his heels with the flashlight, but his footsteps were as soundless as Gideon's.

  "Over here," Jesse said softly, stepping away to investigate a mound of dirt. "It might just be a new one."

  Gideon redirected his path, angling to join Jesse at the fresh grave. The marker read, "Cara Fischer, beloved daughter, 1983-2007," but the urn of fresh white dahlias at the head had been tipped over recently, one side of the flowers crushed before it had been re-righted. Crouching down, he peered more closely at the loose earth.

  "We're too late," he said. "He's already been here."

  Jesse sighed heavily and stooped beside him, rubbing a clump of dirt between his fingers. He scanned the disrupted site with his flashlight. Something glittered in the light, and Jesse dropped to his hands and knees, crawling over to peer closer.

  "I think there's more going on here than graverobbing," he said with a glance over his shoulder.

  Gideon smelled it long before he saw what had captured Jesse's attention. At the foot of the grave, someone had dug out a shallow hole in the loose dirt. An assortment of herbs littered its border, and a bowl rested inside, but it was the residual contents of the bowl that chilled Gideon to the bone. To the naked eye, it appeared almost empty. To his, there was the thinnest layers of wax molded to the bottom.

  "That was a candle," he said. "This is not good, Jess."

  Jesse straightened and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He folded the edges closed and scraped some of the dirt and herbs into it before tucking it into his pocket again. He moved to the bowl next, prying it from the earth with the tips of his fingers.

  "John never said anything about ritual being performed over the graves. This is very, very not good."

  "I guess that means he didn't mention the burning of human fat for the ritual, either then."

  Jesse blanched, nearly dropping the bowl. "Please tell me that's your warped idea of a joke."

  "I wish it was." Carefully, Gideon took the bowl out of his hands and brought it to his nose, taking a good, long whiff. "Yeah, there's no doubt," he said, handing it back. "That's human."

  "That's why it's graves. He's just killing two birds with one stone. Complete the next point on the enneagram and gather the...fat for the candles."

  He caught the way Jesse tensed as he spoke, as if he was trying to suppress a shiver. Fuck, it was distasteful to Gideon, and he was a vampire; there was no telling what kind of a number this was doing on Jesse's sensibilities.

  With a growl, he began marching back to the car. "I'm going to kill John," he muttered. "I mean it this time."

  "Wait, Gideon." He heard Jesse hurrying behind him, all thoughts of stealth forgotten. "I don't think you should kill him."

  Gideon didn't stop. "Really? Because it sounds like a fucking fantastic idea to me."

  "I know, but...maybe he has an explanation."

  "For somebody playing with black magic using human sacrifices to manifest? Okay, dead humans, but still. Remember the very, very not good? We're past that. We're into abomin
ably bad, Jess."

  Jesse shook his head. "I know. I know it's abominably bad, but John isn't the guilty party right now. Somebody else is performing this magic. John kept some things from us; he might not have told us everything about the person we're looking for. Killing him right now won't help."

  "No, but it'll sure as hell make me feel better." He leapt over the fence, only pausing when he was on the other side. "If I can't kill him, what do you suggest then? Play patty-cake with the bastard?"

  Jesse hefted himself over the top and swayed a little when he landed on his feet. "I don't think we need to play patty-cake with him, no. Talking might help. Maybe we'll catch him in a rare loquacious mood. If not, then you can kill him."

  "Loquacious," Gideon muttered as he headed for the car. "He's going to be loquacious even if I have to rip his tongue out and beat him over the head with it."

  "You certainly know how to paint a picture with words," Jesse said, falling in step beside him. "But I think I should do most of the talking when we get there."

  "Good idea."

  They reached the car, and he unlocked Jesse's door, holding it open as Jesse slid inside. All the good will that they'd fostered in the past eighteen hours with Emma was gone. All Gideon could think about was getting to John's house and finally getting a good reason to kill the black mage, once and for all. He didn't like being played for a fool. He especially didn't like it when it was by someone like John.

  His foot was heavy on the accelerator as he sped through the Chicago streets. Jesse was silent at his side, no doubt mulling over the implications of finding the ritual remains at Trinity Lutheran. Gideon knew he should do something, say something, to ease the worry that was weighing him down, but frankly, he didn't know what he could do to make the situation any better. The situation sucked. End of story.

  They reached John's house in record time, but Gideon fought the urge to get out and march up to the doorstep. He let Jesse get out first, hanging back to allow him the room he needed to deal with John rationally. If Gideon led the way, John wouldn't make it two words into his explanation without losing a body part.