Sanguine Moon

by Jennifer Foxcroft

  Sticking out from under his mattress between his legs is a corner of paper.

  “What’s that?” I point.

  His cheeks get a slight dusting of color as he pulls it free.

  “My old comics.”

  He hands over the ancient and extremely well-loved comic books. One Superman. One Batman. The pages are faded, and two of them have come loose from the staples. I imagine Rocks reading this over and over in secret. This is highly contraband stuff, and considering his older sister had just gone missing, I’m sure the Sire would have set them alight if he’d known.

  Rocks takes the comics and slides them back under his mattress, this time making sure no corners are visible. He frowns when a text from me arrives but smiles as he looks at me. I need to cheer him up a bit. He’s been literally my rock since he found out about Mini. I’m positive I would have had a stroke the way my blood pressure felt, but he’s calmed me down beyond words. And now I can return the favor.

  “Why are you texting me? You’re right here.”

  “Click on it, but you can’t read them until later.”

  Quietly, I open my camera and zoom in. I want a pic of his blissed-out-on-technology smile. Three, two, one … bingo!

  “No way.” The stress has left his eyes and been replaced by awe. I’m so happy I could fly. “I can read these for free?”

  “Yep, just click on the ones you want.” I’ve sent him the link to read more of his favorite DC heroes online. There aren’t many for free, but there’s more than the two old comics he has memorized.

  When he reluctantly closes the link, we get started. We need a harness for the GoPro to fit around Rocks’ chest—his little batty chest. He’s going to fly in, and video all he can from either the rafters or the air vents. We actually don’t need Dad’s abseiling gear at all, but asking for it prevents a line of questions that we can’t answer honestly.

  It’s a good thing I got over my fear of Rocks as a Camazotz with his leathery wings and claws. The afternoon is spent with him flipping and me trying to size up the harness. I’m careful not to catch anything on the membrane of his wings. Rocks complains several times—inside my head—that I’m tickling him as he flinches and jumps while I adjust the straps.

  He flips back, just as little Moonshiner comes knocking.

  “Hi there.” I smile.

  Moonshiner still blushes violently in my presence, but he gives me a bear hug the second he’s in the door. He remembered my request, and I’m delighted to know he hasn’t believed a word that witch is spouting about me. Moonshiner digs into his pocket and pulls out a tiny carved wooden bat. It sits up in the middle of his palm, the wings spread wide with a pattern carved through them.

  “What’s that?”

  He smiles and looks to Rocks. I can tell he fights his shyness by relying on his big brother for support.

  “Go on. You worked so hard,” Rocks says.

  “For you, Miss. Connie.”

  I take the offered carving, studying the details. It’s magnificent—incredibly intricate and unbelievably beautiful. “Where on earth did you get this?”

  If he was pink before, he’s now a violent red, bordering on purple. “I made it,” he whispers to his shoes.

  Nothing could prepare me for the talent, which hides in this colony. Every member has a trade or craft to help the colony make money, but Moonshiner is just a kid—a pup.

  “Seriously?”

  He nods. I ask Rocks how this is possible, and he explains that Moonshiner is a talent beyond anything they have ever seen. From the age of eight, he started woodcarving, and six months ago, the tanner gave him old strips of leather to see if he could emboss them. He can.

  He’s been working on whatever pattern and design takes his fancy ever since. None of the adults force him to work, but they can’t keep him away. He’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame. As a pup, he’s supposed to cherish his freedom and learn math and English. The Fledgers are required to start a trade at fourteen, but since Moonshiner has a natural gift, they sell whatever carvings he gives them and let him do occasional work for the tanner.

  “This is going to sit on my desk and watch over me when I study.” His smile is cuter than Rocks’ if that’s possible. “You are very talented for a nine-year-old.”

  “I’m ten now.” His chest puffs up. “I gotta go. Macaulay has another special order for harnesses, and I engraved the last ones so he wants me to do these ones too. They’re being picked up tonight.”

  Rocks frowns. “Who ordered them?”

  The boy shrugs. “I don’t know, but they’re the same as last year. I embossed some words I didn’t know.”

  “Spanish.” Rocks tells Moonshiner to go finish his work, but after the boy leaves, Rocks sits frowning.

  “What?”

  “Last year, Vuelo de la Muerte told me they were moving roost. Now they’re ordering more harnesses? Strange that they haven’t moved.”

  “Maybe this cull business is making them do it now?”

  “I guess. It’s a massive undertaking to move so ordering those first harnesses to hold the bats who can’t fly the distance must have been preemptive. Hmmm …” He taps his lips. “Speaking of harnesses, should I give this a test flight?”

  I help Camazotz Rocks back into the harness and turn on the camera. He jumps off his bed and flies out the door with amazing precision. Leaning out of the wagon, I try to follow him, but he’s fast. He flies up into the nearby trees, and I lose sight of the black blur. I step further out, scanning every direction. My ponytail swooshes out, and I can’t help jumping when he screeches in my ear as he zooms past. Cheeky bat.

  Gonna spy.

  I sit on the top step and examine Moonshiner’s handiwork. It’s hard to believe that shy kid is capable of making something so incredible. I wonder if his father carves too? Maybe because he’s the only member of the Moon wing at the Shadows he spends his time alone and entertaining himself.

  Rocks returns a while later, zooming in over my head and into the wagon. By the time I turn around, he’s flipped and the harness and camera are in his hands. Without his blood on them, they fall off his Camazotz self when he changes.

  “It does sound too, right?”

  Handing over the camera, I hit playback and we lean in close to listen. On the screen, it only takes a second to see the meeting of the Fold and Clips still hasn’t finished. Strickland’s voice booms over the others that are still arguing and silence immediately follows. He informs the group their shaman will be consulted before a decision is made.

  I look to Rocks. It’s my turn to frown. What on earth could that stupid hag have to say about this, I wonder? Rocks explains she will throw the bones and read the future of the Shadows in connection with this event. I can’t contain my eye roll, and Rocks shakes his head at the disbelieving aeronaught. I’ve wanted to mention that the blood blessing didn’t “protect” him from his wing being broken, but that can wait for another time. If he believes in the power of blood, then who am I to say otherwise. He’ll probably argue it saved him from death.

  “How do you know they haven’t found the Shadows? That it’s the Duskwing the cull are going for?”

  “The Sire knows.”

  “But how? Does he have super sonic Sire senses? If that’s the case, he shouldn’t have been so shocked when Dad and I ‘breached’ his sanctuary.” I raise one eyebrow.

  Rocks frowns for a second, and I sense there’s a shred of doubt in his mind. I want to make sure he’s taking every precaution while there’s talk of a bat cull.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure there are extra sentinels on duty. I’ll be extra careful tonight. I promise.”

  Rocks is keeping the camera because he’s paying Enzo’s warehouse a visit later to start filming. He wants the place empty so he can get into each room undisturbed. I explain the concept of alarm systems and sensors. With the help of Google, I show him what to look out for. His face turns deadly serious when I mention the frequency of an
alarm siren will most definitely knock him out cold.

  So far I haven’t seen any sensors in the rooms at the warehouse. Each door is locked from the outside, and Enzo obviously assumes nobody will breach his inner sanctum. His men guard the warehouse section day and night, but what he hasn’t accounted for is an airborne guest.

  Walking back to my car, the meeting has come to an end. Several groups of leaders stand outside still discussing the bat cull. The thought of that happening turns the blood in my veins to ice. Culling innocents like Bailey? I shiver. I have to believe Strickland when he assured me my dad and I are the only aeronaughts who know the location of the Shadows roost. These aren’t the Camazotz they’re looking for, I chant.

  I notice some of the stares, as I pass through the groups, aren’t so deadly. My sunshine yellow self isn’t as hated by some members as I had believed Sylvana wants. There are still murderous glares from any member of the Plant or Mac wings—because they’re acting as though I’m personally responsible for the cull—but I get half a smile from a young woman. It gives me hope for my future with Rocks. Maybe she believes I’m part shaman.

  Judge steps away from his followers when I stop nearby. Before he has a chance to speak, I hug him tight around the waist. The thought of Decker not being here—of never seeing the joy of life on his handsome face again—sends my heart into a downward spiral. It’s wrong—but it’s reality. Judge’s thick, muscled arms hug me back. He doesn’t even hesitate to touch the aeronaught.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I manage to say around the lump in my throat. Stepping back, I look up into his kind face. “Decker was such a good friend. He never judged me, and he got that from you. Thank you. And I’m so sorry the colony lost such an incredible member.”

  Judge’s face scrunches up, and it reminds me of Dad when he’s trying to do that man thing where they won’t allow themselves to cry. “You honor his memory with your kind words. I shouldn’t be surprised you noticed he was a Camazotz of worth, but I am.”

  “Of course, I noticed. He would have made a great leader. He was fair. And funny. Amazing really. I miss him.” Judge swallows the pain my words have ignited. It’s a good kind of pain, but it hurts nonetheless.

  “Thank you for making those photographs Rockland gave me. It is such a gift to know I can look at my son’s face a decade from now and not forget.”

  Now it’s my turn to try not to cry. Four little clicks on my phone have given so many here so much. Technology isn’t their enemy, and maybe this is a perfect way to prove that to the haters.

  “You’re welcome.”

  The surrounding murmurs don’t faze me. I’m not sure if they approve or not, and I don’t care. Decker’s dad has a memory of his son that will not fade over time. If I’d only known, I’d have taken more photos that night in my room.

  Judge heads back to the group, and I notice a Camazotz flip to join him. It’s Zada. Her flowing hair has black ribbons braided though it which hang halfway down her back. I go to approach but stop when Judge wraps her in his tight embrace and rubs her back. I can’t see her face, but am pretty sure she’s crying from the shake of her shoulders. He murmurs to her, and the moment feels so intimate I return to Rocks waiting in the distance.

  At my car, I ask him about my suspicion. “Are those ribbons Zada’s wearing a sign of mourning?”

  Rocks nods, kicking a stone into the underbrush. “Too many are wearing them these days.”

  “I noticed Rebekkah has them in her hair.” As much as I hate mentioning the little bitchy bat, I do feel for her if she lost someone too.

  “Yes, her little brother, Isaiah. You saw her the day he died. Don’t you remember?”

  I shake my head, scanning all my interactions with her before it hits me. “That day in your shop. She was crying …” Rocks nods and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arm tightly around me and resting his chin on my head.

  “Yes. He was her only sibling.”

  All this time I thought I had interrupted some intimate moment between them, but he was comforting her while she grieved the loss of her brother.

  * * * * *

  I don’t sleep until his text confirms he’s back at the roost. Rocks went out alone because he wasn’t sure how long he would be at the warehouse and didn’t want to owe any more favors. Jeremiah’s Fold member, Levi, isn’t exactly Team Aeronaught, but he’s not as prejudiced as the others either, so we don’t want to give him any reason to side against us. Asking both his sons to risk their necks for me after what happened to Rocks’ wing the last time is something Rocks preferred not to do.

  Camazotz-aeronaught relations are tense at best due to the cull. No other members can come to any harm because of me, or they really will try to blame me for the cull.

  My phones beeps with message after message.

  Filmed till battery ended.

  Lots of connections.

  Joey was there! He got away because I couldn’t leave.

  I’m safe so get some sleep.

  What the—

  The text messages beeping one after another have me sitting up in bed. Get some sleep? Not likely. I type out three different replies, but delete them all. We decided we wouldn’t talk about this over the phone. Joey was there? My mind buzzes with questions. We knew he was involved with the Vipers, but now he’s involved with Enzo’s ring too?

  Holy crap.

  I want details, but will wait till tomorrow. It’s going to be a long night.

  Glad you’re safe.

  Rocks replies …

  So much to tell you.

  See you tomorrow after your shift.

  I toss and turn, rolling from one side to the other. I can’t get comfortable. The urge to call Rocks has my fingers twitching. I have to remember whom I’m dealing with. I get out of bed and put my phone in my backpack and my backpack in my closet. Maybe I’m believing Hollywood and being paranoid for nothing, but maybe I’m not. There are spy cameras the size of beetles these days.

  Enzo knew my grades from school, my best friend’s name and address, and where Kelly was going to be with Mini. He has ways of spying, and until I’m sure Mini is safe, I can’t risk talking over the phone or texting any details.

  Johnson and a new dude are waiting for me at our meeting point. When I ask where Brick is, Johnson shrugs. My whole body feels like it’s vibrating at some higher frequency than normal. My leg bounces up and down until I notice Johnson look, and I force my foot to glue itself to the floor. I’m not sure if something is going down, or whether it’s just because we’re so close to getting Mini back. Rocks told me he has everything filmed and won’t need to return to the warehouse this morning. It’s a relief he won’t be out flying around the city during the day, but him not watching over me has me fidgety. I know I was here for weeks without him, but something feels off—my gut is churning.

  When I’m done with the count, Enzo requires me in his office. My feet want to turn and head for the hills. Act normal, act normal, I chant with each step toward his office. My crazy imagination keeps picturing a Rocks-shaped hole in the ceiling, and Enzo asking me to explain.

  Entering his office, all is well.

  “I want to tell you how pleased I am with your work, Contessa. You have the Ascari knack for business.”

  “Thanks, Papa.” I am not an Ascari. I am not. Chad said I was a Phillips, and I know which father deserves my faith.

  “I want to talk about increasing your hours. Last night, I had a meeting with my local distributors and I wished I could’ve introduced you. It’s another facet of the operation you’ll need to learn.”

  Holy shit!

  Rocks mentioned “connections” but what he was trying to tell me is that he’s filmed Enzo’s network. The cops are gonna fangirl like One Direction is coming to town when they see this footage.

  Enzo is staring at me, and I realize I’m smiling, but not for the reason he thinks. How the hell am I supposed to answer that?

  “Um, ah, yeah
. Could be tricky but sure.” I smile, hoping for added authenticity. Then my smile does become real. This could be my last shift. This could be the last time I’m alone with Enzo. Like with Josie, I can’t help but take note of his features and mannerisms. He is my blood after all, but it’s blood that I never want to see again for as long as I live.

  Then my blood runs cold. I’m about to cross Enzo, and people that cross Enzo Ascari do not live to tell the tale. Enzo would put an end to Mini in a heartbeat. I have to betray him to rescue my sister—he has given me no choice. She might not be my blood, but I’m more a Phillips than I will ever be an Ascari. I swallow the bile that threatens.

  Josie and Rocks will not let anything happen to me. I need to stay calm just a little longer. I agree to talk with Chad and Kelly about extending my hours so I can take the next step in learning his business. Enzo is focused on the papers on his desk as I stand soaking up the last details of this man before me.

  “Goodbye, Papa.” And I turn my back on the father I wish I’d never found.

  * * * * *

  Josie, Rocks, Mom, and Dad are all waiting around the kitchen island when I get home. They’ve downloaded the footage onto Josie’s ancient laptop to prevent the Feds from being able to trace the file back to Chad. Josie’s got street smarts like I never knew. They’ve kindly waited for me so we can watch it all together.

  The first half of the video is upside down. Dad makes a passing comment, and Rocks looks to me. We know why. The footage shows around thirty-five of Enzo’s distributors coming to the warehouse, collecting their carton of ‘tissues’ or ‘lip balm’ in exchange for a duffle bag. Rocks found a prime position because not only are all their faces clear, you can hear the conversations.

  For some reason, this buy isn’t the norm—Enzo is present. You can see the look of surprise and shock on many of his distributors’ faces when he comes forward to greet them. He says repeatedly that it’s good to have some face-to-face time occasionally, and asks them all if there are any complaints, or ways he can make the process smoother and safer. The universe really has smiled on me big time, and I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.