Moon 01 - Leopard Moon

by Jeanette Battista

  LEOPARD MOON

  Jeanette Battista

  Copyright 2012 Jeanette Battista

  All rights reserved

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Jackal Moon Preview

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kess went from sleep to waking immediately, eyelids flying open and eyes already searching the room for danger. It was a trained response by now. No more for her the slow slide into wakefulness. Nope, she was ready to fight or flee as soon as her eyes opened these days. She forced herself to lie still in the bed, trying to calm her breathing. Something had triggered her waking; one thing she had learned in her months on the run was that you listened to the little instincts that told you something was off. Ignoring them could cost you your freedom. Or worse.

  The room she was in was empty. It was a long-term rental motel room, grungy and beat down from hard use. She slept with the lights off, but her pupils were larger than strictly human now so she had no trouble seeing in the dark. She slid off the bed, crouching next to it--letting it shield her--still trying to figure out what was wrong.

  She heard it then—the scuff of shoes against cement outside her door. Keeping low, she slunk over to the door, ears straining for another sound that might give away whoever was outside. She was grateful the dilapidated window unit wasn’t on; it would have masked the sound with its wheezing and mechanical death rattles. She heard the doorknob turn. It was loose in the setting so it always jiggled a little in the door. It was one of the built-in alarms of the room, alerting her to uninvited guests in the middle of the night.

  Kess grabbed her jeans off the rickety chair and slid them on, then stuck her feet into the shoes she’d been waiting tables in last night. Her bag was packed and ready to go. She’d gotten wise after the first and only time she’d had to run with what she had on her. Now, she was always ready to move.

  She stopped and listened again. Nothing. It could be a thief looking for easy pickings or it could be someone looking for her in particular. Neither possibility made her want to stay one minute longer. She didn’t want to risk a look out the curtained windows in case someone was still out there. She pulled the duffle’s strap over her shoulder and edged over to the dresser. Keeping as low as she could, she stuck her hand behind it and removed the duct tape that secured a plastic bag to the backside of the dresser. The bag held her spare sets of papers and a stack of cash for emergencies. She stowed everything in various pockets and crept to the bathroom.

  There was a window above the plastic tub/shower combo. It was part of why she went with a room on the end of the row. She’d already made sure the window was in working order when she first took the place; now she slid it open and popped out the screen. It made a slight clatter when it hit the ground, followed by the muffled thump of her duffle bag. Then she hoisted herself up on the small ledge and slithered through awkwardly. She stopped her controlled fall out the window by catching herself on her hands, the gravel of the lot digging into her palms. It was early morning, and the horizon was beginning to glow with the coming dawn.

  She was in a narrow alley between the two rectangular motel buildings. Her car was parked a couple of blocks away. She didn’t like the walk, but it also kept her car and lodging separate from each other and she tried to do this wherever possible. She scooped up her bag and was slinging it over her shoulder when a man came around the corner from the back of the building. She froze.

  "Kestrel Saleh?"

  Damn. Her real name. He wasn’t a wereleopard, at least not one she’d know from her clan, which meant that he was probably one of the many private investigators her father had tasked with finding her. He was tall and bulky, dressed in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt, maybe in his mid-forties. She probably couldn’t outrun him, not with the bag and her shoes, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

  She spun around and took off, pounding around the corner and trying to pick up speed when she was at the front of the hotel. He caught her arm after only a few yards. He pulled her backwards, towards his chest.

  "FIRE!" she screamed. "FIRE! FIRE!"

  His hand clapped over her mouth, cupped so she couldn’t bite down. He was still trying to pull her backwards, but she saw some lights coming on in several of the rooms. If she could break his hold, she could probably make a run for it when people started sticking their heads out of their rooms to see what was going on.

  Her shoes had a heavy, chunky heel which she dug into his shin as hard as she could and dragged down the front of his leg. She heard him curse and his hand came away from her mouth. "FIRE!" she shrieked again, pretty sure that she would sprain a vocal chord with all of the screeching she was doing. His grip hadn’t loosened, so she stomped down on the top of his foot near his instep, grinding that chunky heel into the soft leather of his shoe.

  His hold relaxed and she jerked aside, sprinting away as doors opened and her neighbors began filing out to see where the fire was. Adrenaline gave her an extra burst of speed and she crossed the few blocks of empty parking lots and closed businesses in a matter of minutes, checking for pursuit all the way there. She was panting when she reached her car, flinging her bag and herself inside. She struggled to get the key in the ignition because her hands were shaking.

  Kess pulled the car into the street, not really sure where she was going, knowing only that she couldn’t stay where she was. Soon her father would know and that meant Sek would too. She’d need a new car, in case the P.I. reported this one, or new plates, but she’d worry about that after she’d put some serious miles between herself and California. Once she had some space she could figure out where she was going next.

  She hadn’t even been in California three months.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sek prowled. Even when he wasn’t in leopard form he liked to think that he still moved with the lethal grace of one. His steps ate up the open expanse of grass between the back fence and the guest house, the gu
est house to the main building, a massive white house modeled after a Mediterranean palazzo that served as the main body of the estate. He prowled the limits of his domain, a jungle cat trapped in an expensive cage.

  The sun was setting over the water, and dusk was bringing some relief from the heat. It wasn’t as bad as it was in high summer, but Miami didn’t have seasons, it just had different degrees of heat. The calendar read November but the temperatures made a liar of it.

  He entered the house through the pool-side doors, the cold air like a slap against his sweaty skin. He passed room after room as he stalked down the hallway that ended at his office. The house was empty except for him and his father's advisor. He enjoyed the quiet of not having the clan sequestered here; he was a cat after all, and cats enjoyed their solitude. But he missed Kess and rocketing around the place like a marble in a maze only served to drive home her absence. Each time he walked a hallway or turned a corner, he expected to see her, and each time he didn't was like a fistful of claws to his gut. It was why he couldn't stand to go near her wing of the house very often.

  Once in his office, he poured himself a drink from the bar by the door and turned on the large plasma television to hear of the day’s events. He found he couldn’t pay attention to the bobbleheaded anchorwoman spouting off the headlines. He felt too restless to concentrate. Sek rubbed his temples and took another sip of vodka.

  A knock on the open door roused him. Bomani, his father's advisor, entered and from the look on his face he did not bring good news. Sek felt his neck tighten at the thought of more disappointment. "What is it?" His voice was rough from the alcohol and the tension building inside him.

  "One of the investigators thinks he found your sister."

  Sek felt himself rise out of his chair, but at Bomani’s upraised hand he sat down again. "The bad news?"

  "He lost her."

  Sek did nothing for a moment. Then he stood and flung his glass at the wall, smashing it and spraying the wall with liquor. He did not feel any better. He wanted to give his temper free rein to overturn desks and slash leather chairs and break furniture down to component parts. But Bomani was here and watching him. He clamped down on it, feeling his teeth grind together in frustration. "How?" he managed to grit out.

  Bomani relayed the investigator’s report: the confrontation with Kess, her escape, the investigator's attempts to find her before giving up and calling an hour ago. Sek made an effort to listen, but the more the clan counsel talked, the more enraged Sek became. "Why would he try and grab her?"

  "I would guess he feared losing out on the bonus you offered to anyone who found her."

  "The orders were to observe only. I plan to collect her myself." He was seething.

  "The man got greedy, Sek."

  "Idiot." Not only was Kess gone and he’d have to start tracking her all over again, but the man had dared to lay his hands on her. "Call the Eaters."

  Sek saw something flicker in Bomani’s eyes at the mention of the contingent of werejackals derisively known as the Eaters of the Dead. They were killers for hire and they excelled at their profession. "I think that’s a bit…excessive? He’s only a private investigator. A simple human contractor will be able to handle the job."

  He touched her. "A simple human contractor won't be…thorough enough. I want the man to suffer."

  "The Eaters kill clean," Bomani admonished him.

  "Unless given instructions otherwise." Sek paced, his movements jerky with barely leashed anger. "Do. It." He paused. "And do not tell my father." He waved Bomani out.

  Once he was certain Bomani was out of earshot, he gave in to his rage and when he left his office later, not a single stick of furniture was left in one piece. He closed the door softly behind him. He’d leave word that he was moving into a new office in the morning.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Kess arrived in North Carolina, it was almost winter. Her car had begun making a weird knocking noise as it struggled up the steep winding roads through the mountains. The trees, excepting the dense evergreens, were bare, having dropped their leaves after the riotous color of autumn. The day was windy; the car had been pushed all over the road on her way up here, and her hands ached from clenching the steering wheel. She had driven through the night, stopping only for caffeine and fuel and was beyond grateful that she was nearing the end of her journey.

  She’d never been this far north before. She preferred places with warmer weather, but she hoped that being up in the snowy mountains of North Carolina for the winter would buy her more time. It was the beginning of November now and already the temperature was unpleasantly frigid to her. She had the heat cranked up in the car as high as it would go. Kess reminded herself that if it was uncomfortable to her, it would be doubly so to her brother, since he was so used to the pulsing heat of Miami. She could deal with the discomfort if it bought her a little space and peace. She still had some months before April and her eighteenth birthday. She'd be an adult and neither her father nor brother could force her back home; so long as she could stay on her own until that time, she might be okay.

  Kess pulled off the road and into a small parking lot adjacent to the three-story Victorian boarding house that she had been looking for. She had stopped in at a nice restaurant, where the locals ate, for a quick lunch and some much-needed information. Sitting at the tidy bar, she had gotten leads on both a job and a place to stay. Being adjacent to the university and ski resorts meant there was a lot of seasonal work and plenty of places to stay in town. Kess had left with a job application and directions to the boarding house where she now stood.

  The house was a traditional Queen Anne with lots of windows, extensive gingerbread and a huge porch. It was well kept, but the color seemed a bit out of place; it was painted in a collection of dark purples and greys with accents in black. It resembled nothing so much as a giant bruise in the form of a house. Kess walked up the steps and rang the bell at the front door and waited, shivering when the wind cut through her jacket, which was clearly not going to be up to the challenge of a mountain winter.

  Footsteps on hardwood approached the door, which opened to reveal a petite woman who Kess took to be in her fifties. She wore dark brown corduroy pants, a cream Fairisle sweater and boots. Her hair was ash-blonde and it was pulled back in a loose bun. She had smile lines around her eyes and mouth and her skin was the healthy tan of someone used to spending time outdoors. She exuded a feeling of maternal warmth. Kess found herself tentatively smiling at the woman before she’d said anything.

  "I’m here about the room for rent?" Kess pointed to the small sign that advertised a vacancy. "They said down at the Barn to come see you."

  The woman stood aside and beckoned her inside. "I’m Anita Creevey. My husband and I own the house." She held out her hand.

  "Kess Saroyan. Nice to meet you." Kess knew it was risky using her own name, but after trying to remember any number of aliases--and failing--this made the most sense. It was embarrassing having someone call you by your assumed name and be completely unaware that they were talking to you.

  Anita offered to take her coat, but Kess declined. She still hadn’t thawed from the chill outside. Anita stopped by a large desk in the front parlor and grabbed a clipboard, then led Kess into a spacious living room. A massive stone fireplace took up one wall. It was flanked by comfortable overstuffed couches. Built-in bookshelves lined the remaining wall space.

  Anita motioned for Kess to have a seat and took one for herself. Kess took the loveseat adjacent to the fireplace that also gave her a good view of the door. She hated sitting with her back to an opening--it made her feel too exposed. As she sank into the pillows, she felt the tension of the long drive and the stress of the last few days hit her, and she knew she could easily curl up in front of the fire on this couch and fall asleep if she let herself. Anita sat on the sectional facing the fire and handed her the clipboard.

  "So who recommended us to you at the Barn?"

  Kess rested the clipb
oard on her knees. "Brian--he was working the bar. He said this was a good place in town where I wouldn’t be bothered by a lot of partying from the university students."

  Anita laughed out loud. "Well, if you still showed up here, I am guessing that’s not your thing then. Brian tries to weed them out for me." She gestured to the clipboard Kess held. "You can start filling that out while I tell you a little about the house and rules. Then we’ll decide if this is a good fit for you."

  Kess began writing in the information necessary--it was a basic application, asking for name, last address, phone number, age, and all of the other usual stuff. She filled it in with practiced eased, having memorized all of it a long time ago, and turned her mind to what Anita was saying about the house. Most of what she wrote was a complete fabrication. She was finished in a few minutes, and handed it back to Anita.

  The older woman looked over the sheet full of Kess’ neat printing. Kess watched her cautiously, waiting for when Anita came to the emergency contact section. Kess blanked her features before Anita looked up, ready for the question. She hated this part of the game, but she was running short of options. A sob story usually got her a safe place to stay, at least for a little while.

  "I’m going to need someone as a point of contact in case of emergency. Do you have anyone you could list?" Anita's eyes had narrowed, as if she was dubious about the lack of information on the page. "Parents maybe, even if you don’t talk to them?"