By the Red Moonlight

by Amanda Meuwissen

  Before he could finish setting the clothes down, there was a knock at the door behind him. He peeked out to see Bash waving his cellphone at him, which he handed to Ethan through the opening.

  “Don’t play Candy Crush all afternoon. Be quick in there.”

  “I will!” Ethan grinned at the extension of trust. “Thank you!”

  Bash nodded, and Ethan shut the door again, quickly scrolling through his messages. As expected, there wasn’t much, but he did have a voicemail.

  “Ethan.” Leo’s voice came over the line, exhausted but sincere. “I know you think you need to avoid me, but you don’t. I just want what’s best for you. Everything with Glenwood Penitentiary, you don’t have to feel shame for that. Please talk to me. I’m worried about you, wondering where you are, what you’re up to, how you’re surviving. I just want to hear your voice. I love you.”

  That only twisted the knife further, because Ethan knew he was being silly thinking his uncle wouldn’t forgive him, but he’d let it go on for so long now, he wasn’t sure how to open up communications again, especially after becoming a vampire, with no idea what his future held.

  He decided to offer one simple text back, knowing Bash would read it later and hopefully find no reason to disapprove.

  I’m safe. I need a little more time, but when I’m ready, I’ll call. I love you too.

  Ethan set his phone aside and hurried into the shower.

  Chapter 8

  BASH’S DARK colors didn’t suit Ethan at all. Bash wasn’t sure what would, but he was about to find out, since they were on their way to Ethan’s hotel.

  Ethan assured Bash that everything could easily fit in the trunk of the car. He’d been hoping to find a furnished apartment, so he didn’t have much. Just his luck he’d been turned into a vampire, because he never would have been able to afford a place like that on a tattoo artist’s salary.

  “Right here, Deanna,” Bash said, sitting in the back of the car with Ethan. Ethan’s reacquaintance to Deanna when they left the den had gone about as Bash expected.

  “Hi again! Sorry for—”

  “Get in the car, leech.”

  “Uh… right.”

  Deanna wouldn’t be won over as easily as Preston and Luke, though that had surprised Bash too. There was just something about Ethan, everyone kept saying—and Bash had noticed as well. He needed to discover if that something was because of Ethan’s vampire abilities or just him as he was.

  Bash had to be vigilant, especially getting a look at Ethan’s things and where he’d been staying. He knew this hotel well, and he watched Ethan carefully as the fledgling vampire navigated a public space for the first time since being turned.

  Ethan was clearly bothered by the sun and distracted by the many smells around him, the many people, all human, but while he’d pause every so often or turn his head to sniff, he didn’t once look agitated enough to cause alarm.

  “So, Deanna hates me,” Ethan said once they reached the room Ethan had been staying in for the past week.

  “She’ll get over it,” Bash said.

  Deanna was waiting in the car, but Bash stayed close, looking for anything that might give him additional insight into whether Ethan was above board, and if he was, why had his sire chosen him?

  Perusing the room while Ethan packed, Bash let his fingers drift over the walls and various surfaces. Nothing too fancy, but not a shithole either. There was a kitchenette, extended-stay style. Clothes and papers littered the room, but there were no dirty dishes in the sink, merely clutter. On the desk rested a few larger sheets of paper, one with some scribbles, but the other….

  It was the woman again, Bash realized, the one from Ethan’s portfolio with a third eye, only this time the whites of her eyes were black with the irises appearing to glow.

  Like a Seer.

  “Who is this?” Bash asked. “You’ve drawn her before.”

  “That’s my mom,” Ethan said, pausing in his diligent collecting of strewn-about possessions. “She comes out a lot in my art. Not that I don’t love my dad, too, but I can picture Mom more clearly. People used to say I look like her. Maybe that’s why.”

  A human Seer, Bash thought, almost certain now, even if Ethan had no idea, and maybe she’d never known either.

  Bash tucked the picture beneath another one. Ethan didn’t seem to have put two and two together yet after witnessing Bash’s prophecy, and Bash wasn’t sure he wanted him to, not until they knew more.

  He thought of the first line of the prophecy he’d had in the basement:

  Mothers who saw and fathers who heightened

  Both his and Ethan’s mothers were Seers, but what did that mean about their fathers?

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Bash startled, looking Ethan over more carefully to find him holding one small suitcase and a backpack. The sketches he came over to pick up carefully, obviously intending to add them to his portfolio later, but still.

  That was it? Two bags?

  “What about—” Bash started to gesture toward the kitchen.

  “One plate, one cup, and a fork? It’s not a full set of dishes or anything. I washed everything each time I used it. I don’t need the rest.”

  Bash was amazed, maybe slightly impressed, but he certainly wasn’t going to suggest that Ethan bring a single plate. “You lived like this before Glenwood Penitentiary?”

  “No. I lived with my uncle.”

  “How old are you?”

  Ethan frowned, as if affronted by the implication that he had to be younger to live at home. “Twenty-eight, so what? I had home ripped away from me. Is it so wrong to want to keep another version of it for a while longer?”

  Bash recognized the bitter edge in his tone, because he’d used it, too, after his mother passed away. At least Ethan had had a home to cling to after he lost his parents. Bash had Bari, but the structure that should have made up their home, built on the foundation of a loving father, had never proved true.

  “Not judging,” Bash said. “Only curious. Like why you’re still wearing my clothes instead of changing into your own.”

  “Well, I….” Ethan stiffened. “I’ve changed twice today already so…. Did you want me to—”

  “No need to undress for me.” Bash smirked.

  There was something especially alluring about the way Ethan blushed, clamming up and chuckling with a glance to the side, that made Bash want to cup his face and kiss him.

  He had to stop. He trusted Ethan, but that didn’t mean he could casually flirt with him and take him to bed again. He’d promised Jay he’d be faithful, at least through negotiations. Bash owed Jay that much.

  “Let’s go,” Bash said and turned for the door.

  There was still the matter of the bill.

  “Mr. Bain!” the concierge on duty greeted him when they approached the front desk. “Do you need—”

  “Just here to check out today, Mr. Sullivan, and to settle Mr. Lambert’s bill.” Bash indicated Ethan.

  “Oh, you don’t have to—” Ethan tried, but Bash stopped him.

  “I saw what meager possessions you own. I’ll cover it.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  If Sullivan was curious about their arrangement, he made no comment. “Always a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Bain,” he said as he rang up the total, which was hardly a dip in Bash’s coffers. “Will we be seeing you again soon?”

  “Like clockwork,” Bash said. “This was merely a detour.”

  Ethan was silent until they reached the exit. “Do I want to ask why he knows you so well?”

  “I don’t bring lovers here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I wasn’t!”

  “Business, however,” Bash said, “isn’t always conducted in the open.”

  “Illegal business?” Ethan asked, then thought better of saying that so loudly. “Dumb question, sorry.”

  Bash waited until they were safely out of the hotel and back in the car before he
explained. “To the tattoo parlor, Deanna,” he said first.

  “You got it, Boss.”

  “I mentioned I work with the mayor.” Bash turned to Ethan.

  “Oh right. Can’t exactly meet in public.”

  “No, we cannot.”

  Given the location Ethan had been staying at, Bash allowed himself a moment to wonder if Robert had anything to do with this. If Mayor Robert Hedin, sniveling human that he was, and the only human with any power in Centrus City who knew about the supernatural, had the spine and wherewithal to challenge Bash, this was just the sort of inane scheme he would have come up with.

  But no, Robert was loyal. After all, Bash had been the driving force in getting him elected.

  Ethan kept rubbing his eyes, Bash noticed. He’d freshly fed, but he wasn’t used to the glare of the sun being so unforgiving. Time and time again, he would squint or shake his head to clear his vision. He was a nocturnal creature now, trying to force himself into the light. Apparently sunglasses hadn’t been part of his possessions.

  “Is Siobhan at the shop?” Ethan asked.

  “She is, and usually most days.”

  “What about everyone else?”

  “You’ll see the rest of the circle tonight. You’ve met everyone anyway, all who live in that house, but there are many other shifters throughout the city who are my responsibility. Anyone who lives in Centrus and is something other than human is expected to announce themselves and be known.”

  “What, like you’re king?”

  “He is king,” Deanna growled.

  “O-oh.” Ethan promptly grew silent.

  “Don’t let it rattle you,” Bash said, though he did nothing to dispel Ethan’s notion that he was royalty. “As long as you’re with me or someone from my inner circle, no one will question you again, even if they don’t like you.”

  “Wait, so that concierge—”

  “Human. You can smell the difference, remember?”

  “Right. Sure. Great.” He sounded anything but.

  “If you’re curious about what the others do in their spare time, everyone has their place. I run the city, but Deanna is my Second, not only my driver. Should something happen to me, she would stand in to replace me and is my most trusted advisor. She always has my ear.”

  Deanna scoffed none too subtly, considering Bash hadn’t listened about Ethan.

  “Preston”—Bash ignored the jab—“acts as treasurer, our accountant, but his main role is Magister, given his affinity for magic.”

  “Which is what makes him a Rat King.”

  “Correct. Luke is good for word on the street, but more so ambassador to the common shifters, what we call our Councilor. Nell is Shaman, gifted in more defensive and secondary magic, and Siobhan, when not manning the shop, is like a sheriff, our Warden. Altogether we have a full court, and I’ll expect you to pull your weight as well.”

  Ethan was quiet, taking it all in. When he did finally speak, it wasn’t with a question like Bash expected. “All this magic and fantastical things around me, and I never knew. No one knows.”

  “Some humans know, like Nell, who’s a natural-born witch.”

  “But most people just go about their daily lives completely oblivious. It’s almost sad. Why not—”

  “Don’t start in about the lacking kumbayas,” Bash cut him off. “You’re smart. You know why we can’t reveal ourselves.”

  Ethan dropped back against his headrest. “Because the world won’t abide monsters even if they prove themselves allies,” he said like he had heard that lesson before.

  “Well said.”

  “Is that how you think of me?” Ethan asked softly.

  “I think I’m abiding you just fine.” Bash looked at him, sitting there in Bash’s clothes, relaxed and wistful. “It’s everyone else you have to work on.”

  They parked at the tattoo parlor, and Ethan became tense, probably because the last time he was here, he’d been killed.

  “Let’s go,” Bash said.

  They entered to find Siobhan at the counter without any current clients.

  “Looking for some ink?” she asked glibly. “I’m afraid we’re short-staffed at the moment.”

  “Good thing you have a new hire, then.” Bash pushed Ethan forward. “You two watch the counter while Deanna and I have a chat.”

  ETHAN HAD no idea what Bash and Deanna were going to discuss in the back, maybe normal shifter business or criminal dealings they didn’t think Ethan needed to be privy to, though, more likely, they’d be discussing him. He was more concerned about seeing Siobhan again, since last time they met, he hadn’t been a vampire or known that she was a lizard person.

  “Hi again,” Ethan tried, moving around beside her at the counter and taking a seat. She gave him a side eye but didn’t move away. Her golden eyes, which Ethan had found unusual, made more sense to him now. He grimaced, however, at having to look toward the shop entrance and the glare from the sunlight outside.

  Siobhan made a disgusted noise and produced a pair of black round-lensed Ray-Bans.

  “Oh, I—”

  “Take ’em. Can’t have you squinting all day.”

  “Thanks.” Ethan accepted the shades. Before becoming a creature of the night, sunglasses had been on his “nice to have” list, not “need.”

  The relief with them on was immediate.

  The phone rang, distracting Siobhan’s attention, just as the bell chimed to announce someone entering the shop.

  “H-hi!” Ethan greeted, struck by the alluring scent of human as the customer came up to the counter. There had been so many of them around at the hotel, he’d gotten used to it quickly, but here, everyone else was a shifter, so a human stood out—especially this one.

  He was slight of stature with long dark hair, dark eyes, and a friendly smile, but he wore a T-shirt that read: T. Rex Also Hates Pull-Ups.

  The young man smelled amazing, but Ethan realized, looking at him, about to have a normal conversation with him, that even mostly one-on-one, Ethan didn’t want to bite him.

  He felt centered.

  Confident.

  “Nice shades, dude,” the guy said.

  “Thanks. I swear I’m not the sunglasses inside or at night kinda guy. I’m just a little sensitive today.”

  “Rough Halloween?”

  “You have no idea. So, how can I help you?”

  “I’m your neighbor!” the man said brightly.

  “You’re….”

  “Flower shop.” He gestured over his shoulder, and Ethan remembered there was indeed a flower shop across the street. “You must be new. I’m out front all the time.”

  “You come here often?” Ethan didn’t see any visible tattoos.

  “No, but I’ve been drumming up the nerve to come in for a while. Today, I’m finally gonna do it. I chose the perfect tattoo.” He slapped an image of the Pokémon Bulbasaur on the counter that made Ethan stifle a snicker. “Ink me up, man! I’m Rio, by the way.”

  Turned out Rio wanted Bulbasaur somewhere easy to show off but also easy to hide. He didn’t care how the tattoo looked so long as it was well done and clearly Bulbasaur.

  Ethan didn’t think it would be creative enough to simply take the base image Rio had slapped down and plaster it on the guy’s shoulder, so he suggested a partial sleeve in the middle of Rio’s forearm that could be hidden with certain shirts and shown off with others. Plus, then Ethan could add additional elements, like hints of Bulbasaur’s future forms.

  After grabbing some paper, Ethan started to sketch what he was thinking, laying it out flat even though once applied it would wrap around Rio’s arm. Rio watched with rapt attention while Ethan worked right at the front counter.

  “How are you doing that so fast?” Rio asked.

  “I’ve always been able to speed sketch. If you like what I come up with, we can probably get going right away. How much time do you have?”

  “I have all afternoon off. Let’s do this!”

  In no
time, Ethan had the sketch scanned and printed on stencil paper to lay over Rio’s skin and trace. Thankfully, Siobhan had shown him the shop’s basic process during his interview, but he’d expected more of an apprenticeship if he got hired, not being thrown a tattoo to complete on his first day.

  Ethan had studied for his certifications while in prison, though he didn’t technically need them or a license of his own to practice in this state. He still felt a bit like a fraud. He knew how to use standard equipment, but his practical experience was with anything but.

  All the while, as Ethan gathered what he needed, his new watchdogs—somewhat literally—kept their eyes on him and how he moved and interacted with his human patron. Bash and Deanna even stopped their heated whispering in the back.

  At least Rio didn’t seem to notice they had an audience. He was content to chat with Ethan and make friends, discovering quickly that they had a lot in common. It was nice that he was a neighbor Ethan would hopefully see more of.

  Truth was, Rio was as nervous as Ethan; he could tell. Most people were when getting their first tattoo. Rio was clearly trying to distract himself by never letting the silence linger for more than a few seconds. Ethan didn’t mind, happy to oblige and banter over their favorite Pokémon.

  Ethan had always been more of a Pikachu fan, which he knew was lame and expected, but he liked what he liked. If keeping to the other three starter Pokémon, he was more partial to Squirtle.

  “Squirtle? Dude, come on, Bulbasaur is so much better. Not to mention adorable.”

  Ethan laughed, finished shaving and cleaning the area he was about to ink, and got his needle ready for the initial outlines. It wasn’t until the buzzing started and he made the first press to Rio’s skin that he realized why the shifters were watching him so intently. It wasn’t because it was Ethan’s first client, or because he was interacting with a human.

  It was because of the blood.

  If Ethan could smell humans just by being near them, then bringing the fresh scent of blood to the surface was one hundred times stronger.

  Rio took a deep breath from the pain, snapping Ethan out of his distraction. Why hadn’t it dawned on him sooner what a terrible job this was for a vampire?