MOON FALL

by Tamara Thorne

  Naked, he slipped out from between the black sheets just as Lucy reached for him. He didn't like to have her sleep with him and wouldn't have allowed it if he hadn't been so exhausted by their lovemaking and spell casting. "Get up, Lucy, dear. We have much work ahead of us."

  She pushed the covers back with her legs and spread herself across the wide mattress. Despite the reek of the cinnamon mildew chemicals she bathed in, Dashwood found himself responding. The chemical bath might stink, but Lucy's body appeared young and firm. And bony.

  He was looking forward to checking on Sara Hawthorne. To preparing her for tonight. She was slim but possessed firm, round breasts and an ass with enough flesh on it to dig his nails into. And she didn't smell like rotting cinnamon.

  ''What are you thinking about, Richard?'' Lucy stretched, revealing her innermost secrets.

  He tried not to respond. "I was wondering if we should feed Miss Hawthorne and the boy."

  ''No," Lucy said. ''Leave them alone until it's time to prepare her." She fixed him with her cold stare. ''And Richard, Regina will take her into the infirmary, tranquilize her, and do the preparatory work and the makeup. You don't need to worry yourself about that."

  Bitch.

  He smiled, his ire diminishing under the strength of his desire. "Are you jealous, Lucy?"

  ''Of course not."

  "I think you are."

  "Then spank it out of me," she ordered, rolling over.

  Sometimes, Dashwood thought as he joined her on the bed, he rather enjoyed following Lucy's orders.

  Ninety-three

  "It's what time?'' John Lawson leapt out of his desk chair, ignoring the pain and stiffness of his chest and limbs. He stared at Dorothy.

  "Just past noon."

  ''Good God, you let me sleep?"

  "You looked pale, exhausted. I thought you needed it."

  "Dorothy, my son is missing, Sara Hawthorne is missing, and it's Halloween. Don't ever let me sleep again."

  "See how much you needed it? You're still cranky."

  Cranky, he thought, didn't begin to describe how he felt. Enraged came closer. He counted to ten before speaking. ''Dorothy, who's working right now?

  "Wyn and Scotty. Jeff's due in at two."

  "What are they doing?"

  ''Running calls." She shook her head. ''There's already been a fight at Winesap's and a brawl at the Cozy-Up Inn. Two women fighting over one man. I don't think there's a man on earth worth that. "

  John ignored her. "Why did you decide now was the time to wake me? Why didn't you wait another hour?"

  His sarcasm was lost on her. Dorothy giggled and actually blushed. "Because you've got company. A priest."

  "Paul's here already?"

  "Paul?'' she shrilled. "I thought he looked familiar. That's little Paul Pricket out there, isn't it? I used to be great friends with his mama. She must be so proud of him."

  "Dorothy, give me two minutes, not a second longer, then send him in."

  "Okay."

  She rushed out the door, no doubt to pounce on Paul. John combed his hair, then popped two Certs in his mouth and straightened his clothing. He waited. And waited. After five minutes, he sighed and walked out of the office. Sure enough, there was Paul Pricket, wearing a priest's collar and a pained smile as he nodded at Dorothy's questions.

  "Paul," John said, striding across the room.

  "John!" Paul's relief was obvious as they shook hands and then hugged. "It's been a long time."

  "It sure has. You look the same. Except for the collar, of course."

  "A little less hair, and a little taller. You're a lot taller than I remember, and you still have all your hair. What's your secret?"

  "It's in the genes, I guess."

  "Oh, yes. You said Minerva Payne is-"

  ''Come into my office," John interrupted, glaring at Dorothy. "I don't want to be disturbed unless it's important," he said sternly, then led Paul behind closed doors.

  "Wow." Pricket ran his hand through his thinning blond hair. "She hasn't changed." He sat down in the chair opposite John. "You look like hell, Lawson."

  John stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt. "You want a look at hell?" He pulled his T-shirt over his head and heard Paul gasp.

  "What happened?"

  ''If I were Catholic, Padre, I'd have to say a demon bit me."

  Paul circled him, gingerly touching some of the marks. ''Does it hurt?''

  ''Oh, yeah."

  ''What'd the doctor say?"

  "Haven't seen him yet. This thing showed up around midnight. I came here shortly after and fell asleep, and Dorothy decided to let me go on sleeping until you showed up."

  "By the looks of you, you needed it. Tell me about the demon."

  John put his shirt back on, then sat down and spent the next hour and a half telling Paul everything, finishing with the dream that preceded the demonic attack. Paul showed shock, surprise, and horror as John talked, but the look of revelation on his face as John recounted the details of the events in the chapel was the most terrifying of all.

  ''Dear God, John. It happened, didn't it? It really happened."

  John nodded. "I think so. I know so. I can't deny it any longer. If nothing else, the visit from that mouthful of teeth last night convinced me it's all true."

  "Do you believe your demon and the one that attacked Sara are one and the same?"

  ''Absolutely."

  Paul nodded. "So what do we do now?"

  "We pay a visit to Minerva Payne."

  Ninety-four

  Sara shoved the metal rod through the jamb and met solid resistance. "Give me a break," she prayed to whatever god might be listening. She was exhausted, and had almost given up a number of times, but Mark's occasional calls for help had sustained her. Now, she pulled the rod back and replaced it, slightly below the handle on the door. It slid through this time.

  Slowly, she worked it upward, met resistance again, and knew she'd found the lock. She had no hope of breaking a padlock, but if the door was secured with an old hasp, she might be able to pry it out.

  She pushed upward, her tired arms trembling with the effort. Something gave, barely. Heartened, she bent her knees and got a better grip on the metal, then pushed with all her might. Slowly, the resistance lifted, inch by inch, and then the door yawned open so suddenly that she gasped.

  She stepped into a large, dimly lit area and looked back at the door. It didn't even have a lock, just a wooden bar that fit into a metal rest. Finally, my luck is changing!

  "Mark?" she called. She couldn't see far into the gloom, but she figured she must be in the long, low-ceiling basement.

  "Sara?" The voice was muted, but close by.

  "Keep talking, Mark. I'm on my way."

  She followed his voice to a heavy door, her heart sinking when she saw the padlock securing it.

  "Mark, I can't unlock the door, but I'm going to get your father. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "Okay," he called, his voice betraying disappointment.

  Overhead, a door opened. Please don't talk, Mark! Sara fled into a shadowed comer and crouched behind some mildewed wooden crates.

  Footsteps clicked down the stairs and across the floor to her prison. She heard a gasp, an oath, and then the footsteps, rapid now, approaching. From behind the crates she watched as Sister Regina knocked on Mark's door.

  ''Boy, are you in there?"

  "Let me out," Mark called. "My dad's coming and he's going to arrest you if you don't let me out now!"

  Sara cringed, wishing Mark hadn't said anything. Regina crossed to the stairs. Her hand on the rail, she turned.

  "Sara, I know you're here, and I'll be back in a few minutes with Mother Lucy and Dr. Dashwood. Show yourself now, or you'll be severely punished."

  Sara waited until the footsteps went upstairs and the door opened and closed. She knew she had to get out before Regina alerted the others, and she didn't have time to be picky. After counting to a hundred, she sprinted across
the room and tiptoed up the stairs.

  She found a blank wall where a door should be. Frantically she felt for a latch, and finally her fingers found one. The wall slid slowly and silently away, and she found herself in Richard Dashwood's bedroom. She could hear voices in the living room, Richard's and Lucy's and Regina's.

  "The boy is still there, but Sara Hawthorne managed to get away," Regina said quickly. "She's still down there. There's no way out except through this apartment."

  Sara crossed to the bed, laid down, and worked her way underneath it.

  "I told you, Richard," Lucy stormed. "I told you to put her in with the boy for safekeeping, but no, you had to do it your way."

  "Let's go get her," Dashwood said in a stern, angry tone.

  Sara saw their feet as they entered the bedroom. Dashwood's came right up to the bed, then she heard a drawer open. He took something out, then closed it again. "Dart gun," he said to the women. ''It'll put her out at two hundred feet, if necessary."

  Lucy made an irritated noise, then the entrance slid open and the trio disappeared. As soon as the door shut, Sara crawled out from under the bed. She started to pick up Dashwood's phone, but realized it was too dangerous to stay here.

  She left the apartment, trying to keep to the shadows. Classes would be in session right now, so her best bet was to make it to a safe phone, in case she got caught leaving the abbey.

  She could hear voices in the infirmary waiting room, so she passed it by and went up to the first floor, emerging near Lucy's office. She sprinted through the empty hallway, made the office, and entered.

  It was empty, thank heaven. She crossed to the inner office door and made short work of the locking knob with the metal rod she still carried. She picked up the phone.

  "What are you doing in here?"

  Sara whirled, saw Sister Elizabeth blocking the exit, her hands on her hips, her pale face set and hard. Her tongue flicked out and she licked her lips. "Answer me."

  She was out of options. Raising the metal rod, she charged the nun, swinging at the side of her head, and, to her surprise, connecting. The sister went down, her eyes rolling back in her head.

  Quickly, Sara stripped off Elizabeth's habit and cowl, pausing only an instant when she saw the nun's lingerie- red bra, panties, and garter belt and black fishnet stockings. Opening the closet, she dragged the nun inside and closed the door, then quickly donned the habit and draped the rosary around her waist. She wiped the dirt from her face with a handful of tissues from a box on Lucy's desk after dipping them in a pitcher of water, also on the desk, then placed the cowl on her head. Again, she turned to pick up the phone, but she heard the door to the outer office open. Sara grabbed the rod and plastered herself against the wall by the door.

  "What the-" came a female voice.

  Sara brought the rod down on the back of the nun's head as she came through the door. It was Margaret, and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

  There wasn't room for two nuns in the closet and classes were about to let out. Not sure where she was going, Sara stepped over Sister Margaret and walked boldly into the halls and out the front door.

  Two nuns were on the walk, coming up from the gate, and she figured they couldn't recognize her since she wasn't sure of their identities. Mentally cursing, Sara nodded hello at them, then turned and briskly walked toward the dormitory. Passing them was too risky.

  Ninety-five

  John drove the cruiser to the end of the road leading to Minerva's. He was worried now; he'd expected to find the old lady at the Gingerbread House, but it was plain she hadn't been there today.

  "Hear them?" he asked Paul, as he killed the ignition.

  Paul nodded. "The gargoyles, huh?"

  "Yeah. You know how to handle a rifle?"

  Paul shook his head. "Haven't a clue."

  John took it from its holder anyway, and showed Paul how to use it.

  "Look!" Paul cried, staring out the front windshield. "Look at that!"

  A nightflyer was circling in front of the car. As they watched, two more joined it. "They're not going to let us in," John murmured. "Hand me the rifle."

  Paul did. John rolled down his window and took aim. Without warning, one of the nightflyers dived straight for the window. John fired, missed, and fired again, but the ugly malformed head was in the car, ripping at his arm with its short beak. Talons yanked the weapon from his hands and he watched in amazement as the creature flew off in the direction of St. Gertrude's, still clutching the rifle.

  "It's intelligent," Paul said softly. Then, just as softly, "Get that window closed, now. "

  John hit the button and the window closed just in time for another nightflyer to crash against it, cracking the glass.

  "Let's get out of here," Paul urged.

  John barely heard him; he was staring at the dazed creature on the ground as it shook its head and flapped its wings.

  "John, let's go. Another one's coming and your window won't hold."

  "Right." He started the car, backed it up until he could turn around, then headed out of the forest. At least he knew why Minerva hadn't been at her shop. He hoped she was still alive.

  "What next?"

  John pulled out onto Apple Hill Road. ''How about a reunion? We've all been tormented by the nightmares. Let's see if Winky or Beano are ready to shake theirs and give us a hand."

  "All right," Paul said, then fell into silence.

  John drove to the Addams Family Orchard first. Winky would be more likely to say yes, and that might help convince Beano. Convince him of what? To relive that night twenty-four years ago? John didn't know what he was doing, calling on his old friends. He didn't have a plan. But maybe Minerva was right about following his instincts. What he was doing felt right, if nothing else.

  Ninety-six

  "They won't leave," Kelly said as the afternoon shadows lengthened. ''They're going to keep us here until we starve."

  "No. They'll leave at dusk. They'll be at St. Gertrude's for the ceremonies." Minerva didn't mention her fear that the nuns would make another attempt to recapture Kelly. If they made it until sunset, she doubted they'd come; they would replace her with another girl. John, she thought, please follow the voice within you. Follow your heart, or many will die.

  ''What will we do at sunset?" Kelly asked.

  "You will wait here and continue the protection spells while I go to the abbey."

  "I'm going with you!"

  "No, Kelly, you're not. I am going to send Sara and Mark here when I find them, and you must be here when they arrive."

  "I can go. I know my way around, and-"

  "No. Your powers aren't developed enough, and you're one of their targets. You must remain here." Minerva paused, then shook her finger at the girl. ''An apprentice does as her teacher says."

  "Okay," Kelly said sulkily. "I just hate waiting."

  Minerva put her arm around the girl's shoulders. "I know, child, I know. I've been waiting for this night all my life."

  Ninety-seven

  "You're frigging crazy, Lawson, and you, too, Pricket, for listening to him." Beano Franklin glared at them from behind his pharmacy counter. "You boys go play your Halloween games, but leave me out of it."

  "Beano," Paul said. "It happened. You know it did. I can see it in your eyes."

  "Oh, yeah, priesty-boy? I don't see Winky here. Couldn't you see it in his eyes?"

  "Yes, Franklin, we saw it," John said. "He admitted it, but he has his family to consider."

  "And I don't?"

  "You're not married. You have no kids," John said harshly. "Your life's been on hold ever since that night."

  ''Blow it out your ass, Lawson, and get out of my store. You too, butt-boy."

  "Come on, Paul." John led his friend outside. "We're on our own. Are you with me?"

  "Of course I'm with you. I think I became a priest because of that night." He smiled thinly and wiped his wire-rimmed glasses with a tissue. "Besides, how could I resist that line you
gave me about your needing my priestly magic to fight Satan?"

  John smiled back, then looked up, knowing dusk wasn't far off now. ''Let's get your bag of tricks ready, and try to figure out a plan of action. We're running out of time."

  "Are your deputies going with us?"

  "No. I can't tell them what's going on, and I won't risk their lives without their permission. This is strictly non-police business. I'm going to turn civilian for the night and stop playing by the book."

  Paul gave him a real grin this time. ''Let's do it."

  Ninety-eight

  "Richard, I wanted everything to be perfect tonight, but thanks to your pigheadedness, it looks like I won't get my wish."

  Dashwood sat opposite her in her office. They had fruitlessly searched the basement for Sara Hawthorne. Then, when they'd returned, they'd instead found Sister Margaret sprawled on the floor of the office. She wasn't even sure who'd hit her- a nun, but not one she recognized. Damn her weak eyes. Dashwood was virtually certain it was Sara Hawthorne, but Lucy didn't care for virtuals. She wanted proof. And she wanted Sara in her hands.

  "Lucy," Dashwood began, "we have to deal with the possibility that Sara may have escaped."

  "And if she has, she may have gone to the sheriff. She'll give him the proof he needs to come in here and disrupt the festivities."

  ''Did you hear something?" Dashwood asked.

  ''What?"

  ''There it is again. It sounds like groaning."

  The pair stood still, listening, until the sound rose again. Dashwood pointed at the closet. Lucy nodded and mouthed the words, ''Open it."

  He reached out and grasped the knob, then rapidly twisted it and flung the door open. "Hello, Sara- "