GODDESS OF THE MOON (A Diana Racine Psychic Suspense)

by Polly Iyer

  Seth drove the cart to the right of the hangar and jumped out. He waved everyone to follow. “There’s always more than enough fuel to get us back to New Orleans, but we’d better hurry. They’ll know the kids are gone first. They’ll check for the rest of us.”

  Cal parked beside Seth’s cart. Diana helped Maia with the children, and Lucier followed Seth into the hangar with the others close behind. Seth rolled a stair truck to the entry door of the plane. “I need to get the key to open the door, and we’ll be out of here within ten minutes. He separated one key from his ring. In the far corner of the hanger, he slipped the key into a locked cabinet and opened the door. He searched frantically inside.

  “Shit,” Seth said. “The key’s always here.”

  “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Seth swung around. “Edward.”

  Slater eased from behind the plane, holding the door key in the air. Steel stood beside him, glaring at Lucier with a triumphant sneer. Dried meringue stuck to the side of Steel’s face, and handcuffs hung from one swollen, bruised wrist. In the other hand he clutched a gun, pointed at Lucier.

  “Gimme my gun,” Steel said. “Slow and easy. Fingertips.”

  Lucier pulled the gun from his waistband with his thumb and index finger. He thought briefly of getting off a shot, but he’d be dead before he got the chance, and he didn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt from a stray bullet.

  “Put it on the ground and slide it to me,” Steel said.

  Lucier did what Steel said. He wouldn’t need much of an excuse to shoot. Bide your time, Ernie. Mountain Man won’t do anything without an order, and right now, the boss is too busy to give directions.

  “You, Seth?” Slater said. “I’m disappointed.”

  Seth glanced at Lucier with an almost imperceptible shrug. “Let me fly these people out of here, Edward. You know what will happen to them if they remain. Do you really want to be responsible for the deaths of innocent people?”

  Slater snorted. “Since when have you grown a conscience?”

  “This isn’t how it was supposed to be. We give life not take it.”

  “You still don’t understand, do you, lover boy? This is bigger than the loss of a few innocent people, as you call them. We’re creating an alternate universe, and nothing you do can stop us.”

  Soft whimpering broke the tension in the hangar. Seth turned to the sound. So did everyone else. Phillip cowered at Maia’s side, clutching the hem of her shorts. He shook violently as he stared at Slater. Pee ran down his leg forming a puddle under his shoes.

  Seth rotated slowly from his son to Slater. A creased deepened between his brows, and his mouth hung open for a long minute as realization struck. “You?”

  Slater’s face reddened. “I didn’t hurt him. I was teaching him―”

  Seth didn’t wait for an explanation. He lunged for Slater’s throat with the speed of a striking cobra. “You perverted―”

  Steel shifted his vengeful focus from Lucier to the commotion for a split second, but that’s all the time Lucier needed. He barreled in low, head-butting Steel’s midsection with an upward thrust. Steel grunted and lost his footing, but righted himself and held on to the gun.

  “Not again, boy,” Steel sneered. “Not again.”

  Lucier had heard the demeaning word before, sloughed it off as meaningless because it was. The thought of letting down the people who counted on him bothered him more. The fate of the kids in the compound. The starry-eyed women too damaged to know they were being used. Maia, Anat, and their children. And Diana, whose determination never to give in would seal her destiny if he couldn’t save her.

  He marshaled all his strength against an adversary with nothing to lose and whose humiliation fueled his anger. Now victory depended on which man wanted to win more.

  Lucier knew the big man hurt. He favored his arm, and his wrist looked like an eggplant. Lucier wanted to make him hurt more. Lucier grabbed hold of the handcuff and yanked it so hard, Steel wailed in pain. Lucier locked onto Steel’s gun hand, pushing it to point at the hangar’s ceiling. More twisting and squeezing. Harder and tighter.

  In spite of his obvious pain, Steel fought with the determination of a feral animal and maneuvered the gun barrel toward Lucier.

  I can’t let him win.

  A mythical strength, the kind that empowers those faced with do-or-die situations, surged into Lucier’s body. He forced the gun from Steel’s grip at the same time he twisted the cuff high on his back. The unmistakable snap of bone caused Steel to discharge an unearthly shriek. Lucier landed a forceful strike to Steel’s knee, and Mountain Man hit the ground, writhing in pain. Lucier stomped down on Steel’s wrist, then immediately scooped up the nearest gun. The big man’s previous wail sounded like a whimper in comparison to what he was letting go now. Lucier socked him under the jaw with the butt of the gun to silence him, then hustled to retrieve the other gun, sticking it back into his waistband.

  He’d been so involved in his own battle, he hadn’t noticed the quiet inside the hangar. Seth Crane knelt in front of Slater, his hands encircling Slater’s neck, squeezing and jerking the limp body in a fitful rage.

  Lucier, breathing heavily, staggered to Crane and put a hand on his shoulder. Crane went still. He turned to Lucier as if he’d come out of a trance. Slater’s eyes stared lifelessly, but Lucier put his finger to the side of his throat anyway. He couldn’t find a pulse. “He’s dead, Seth.”

  Crane fell back on his haunches. “I’ve never harmed a soul in my life. Never even cussed at anyone. Now I’ve murdered a man.” He raised his tear-filled eyes to Lucier. “I kept thinking about what he must have done to my son, and I couldn’t stop squeezing.”

  Lucier helped him up. He wanted to say killing Slater was self-defense, but it wasn’t. Temporary insanity seemed a better justification. Lucier thought if Slater had molested one of his children, he would have reacted the same way, without a thread of guilt. “Come on. Let’s find the others and get out of here. We’ll bring the authorities back. They can take over.”

  He took Crane’s arm, and they walked out of the hangar into the breaking dawn to a sight that changed everything. For the worse. Two men stood like military sentries pointing guns at them; another gunman held Diana and the rest at bay.

  “Looks like we missed all the fun,” Phillip Crane said. “Better late than never.”

  Silas Compton stood with a twisted smile distorting his lips. “We underestimated you, Ernie.”

  “Not for the first time, Silas.”

  Chapter Fifty- Seven

  The Long-Awaited Reading

  Diana stared down the barrel of the gun, wondering if she and Lucier would survive―if any of them would survive. One guard relieved Lucier of both guns.

  “Shut up, Silas. You underestimated him, not me.” Crane stepped forward and glared at Compton, the disdain in his voice palpable. “If you’d followed my instructions, the lieutenant would be dead now instead of Edward―the only person other than a true Crane who understood our mission. Now he’s dead, murdered”―he glared at Seth with eyes as cold and icy as an Arctic wind―“by my son.” He strode to stand before Seth. “My grandfather chose Brother Osiris to help me create what you almost destroyed. Obviously, he was more of a Crane than you.”

  Diana felt a wave of empathy for Seth. In the space of a few hours, his entire world had turned upside down. He’d realized his child, maybe more than one, had been violated, and now his own father declared him unworthy of the Crane name. Would Seth cave in the face of his father’s accusations? How deep was his indoctrination?

  Seth’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Did your grandfather teach him to molest my children, Father? Molest others too, I presume. Or didn’t you know about that?”

  “Edward wouldn’t do that,” Crane said. “He loved those children.”

  “He sure as hell did,” Maia said, “but not the way you mean.” She held Phillip, his trembling arms wrapped around her, shorts showing
the result of his fear. The other two children clung to her side. “No wonder this child is so withdrawn. Your grandfather’s hand-picked messiah was a twisted pervert.”

  Slater’s reluctance to touch Diana now made sense. He’d lost not only his God as a result of his calamity, he’d lost his soul. She wondered if the young Edward, the one who answered to a higher calling, had ever participated in a tortured dialogue with his darker self. The question would forever remain unanswered.

  “How many others need help like my son?” Maia asked. She pulled her older son closer. “You can’t stop us from leaving here, Phillip.” She turned to Silas. “Tell him, Father.”

  “Silas tells me nothing,” Crane snapped. “He’ll do what I say.”

  Compton’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment. Diana thought he was going to stand up for himself, but he lowered his head in obvious humiliation. Only two people held sway over Silas Compton―Phillip Crane and Selene.

  “I’m in charge,” Crane said, “and I’m afraid we can stop you from leaving. Truth is―we’re the ones leaving. You, my dear Maia, will remain here with your friends, except for Diana, of course. She’ll accompany us to our new location. My wife and daughters have already departed. You see, this runway can handle a plane big enough for everyone in this compound. It will arrive late tonight, and we’ll have cleared out by midday tomorrow. When and if the authorities find this place, all they’ll find is a burned out parcel of land in the middle of nowhere, because that’s all that will be left.”

  Crane made a slow visual rotation of the property, a frown creasing his forehead. “Pity, really. We weren’t ready to move on quite yet, but I’m afraid your father gave us no choice, Cal. Martin’s pathological fear that he would realize the same fate as his own father played right into the hands of the police. He verged on breaking. My daughter felt compelled to stop him.”

  Cal took a step backward. “Anastasia murdered my father?”

  Phillip pursed his lips. “Umm, murder is a strong word. I prefer to describe her action as protecting the group. I knew about Martin when I recruited him, but he was a brilliant man and would produce brilliant children, like you and your siblings, only with Crane genes. I needed him.” He sighed. “Who thought things would get so out of hand?”

  “You don’t subscribe to the devil, Phillip,” Cal said. “You are the devil.”

  With an arched brow, Phillip said, “I do what needs to be done.”

  “Yet you did everything to involve the police,” Lucier said. “Notes, druggings. Why?”

  “Martin sent the notes. He wanted to stop this before it went further. He thought if he scared Diana away, the cops would stay away too. Had I known at the time, but…” He cocked his head toward Silas. “He wasn’t as upset at Martin as I was. I should have paid more attention to a man whose ego made him think he could do anything and get away with it, like putting drugs in Diana’s drink. If I’m being honest, his reprehensible behavior is what drew me to him in the first place. How could I ignore a man who blackmailed his own father-in-law into trading votes in the Senate for a government contract?”

  “Blackmailed him?” Maia said. “How? Gault Fannon was a wonderful, kind man. What could you possibly have used against him?”

  “Wonderful? Kind? Maybe,” Silas said. “But your grandfather suffered from a similar perversion as poor Edward. He couldn’t help himself. He hid it well, but I found out. The threat of exposure left him a broken man. In addition to the tragedy of your brother’s death, learning about her father sent your mother over the edge.” He shrugged helplessly. “With a little help.”

  Maia leaned against Seth. “A little help? You killed my mother, and you knew Edward was abusing the children? Your grandchildren? ” Her knees gave way, and Seth reached his arm around her waist to keep her upright. “My precious babies?” She hugged Phillip closer. “You’re evil, Father. Evil. Oh, God.”

  Seth took Phillip from her and whispered something in her ear. She calmed.

  Diana sensed it had to do with upsetting the children, for Maia nodded and stood erect.

  A little late to worry about your children, isn’t it, Seth?

  She hoped they were too young to understand what one grandfather had done and that the other planned to incinerate their parents like so much garbage.

  “Sacrilege. Don’t mention God in my presence, Maia,” Phillip said.

  “You’d do this to your own family?” Seth asked his father.

  Cal stepped forward. “Oh, yes. Nothing stands in the way of the mighty Cranes. Anat has always been a thorn in his side. No tears will be shed over her demise. You stood a chance before today, Seth. The good soldier, only following orders, but you lost favor when you couldn’t father more children. Now, unforgivably, you’ve screwed up by finally seeing the light. You’re no good to them anymore.” During his speech, Cal took another step forward. No one noticed Lucier doing the same.

  Diana needed to help. She had one thing in her favor. Phillip Crane wanted her alive. She stepped closer to Compton, the man who’d drugged her and placed her at Satan’s altar. She’d improvise as she went along.

  “If you don’t care about me, Father,” Maia said, “what about your grandchildren?”

  “The children will come with us. They’ll be safe, but I can’t trust you any longer. And Anat―” He snorted.

  “Anat what?” Anat said. “You’re disappointed? I’m delighted.”

  Silas brushed her off with a flick of his wrist.

  Diana moved closer to him. One of the thugs stepped up to her and jabbed his gun in her ribs. Lucier lurched toward her, but a second man waved him back with his weapon. Unfazed, Diana pushed the gun aside and reached for Compton’s hand. He tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go.

  “What’s the matter, Silas? You always wanted a reading, and I’ve never given you one, have I? Now is the perfect time, because after today, I probably won’t be clearheaded enough to use the gift that makes me so valuable to your future generations.”

  “Get away from him, Diana,” Phillip said.

  Compton put up his hand. “No, she’s right. Without Edward, who wanted her for himself, we don’t need her lucid. We only need her fertile.”

  “You never learn, Silas. Go ahead, get your jollies.”

  The guards kept their guns steady, but the idea of her reading drew their focus. She went into full performance mode. Only Crane showed wariness, but eventually he, too, seemed drawn in.

  I hope you know what I’m doing, Ernie, because it’s now or never. She took Compton’s hand. A moment of apprehension struck when she looked down. Nothing. No black skeleton, no nausea. She was in total control, onstage once again.

  “I don’t usually do this standing up with guns pointed at me.” Get that, Ernie? The guns are pointed at me. “But I feel your vibes, Silas.” Definitely a load of bull. She felt nothing but fear. “Just relax.” Her soothing voice belied the tremors inside. The same voice she used to engage her subjects, including the serial killer intent on beating her at her own game. “Forget where you are. Forget what you’re doing.” She covered both his hands in hers and closed her eyes as she’d done thousands of times before.

  She drew out the moment. Everyone was silent, fully engrossed. Compton didn’t move. “I see a peaceful place with―”

  She heard a scuffle.

  A gunshot.

  A groan.

  Kids screaming.

  Without turning around, she kneed a distracted Compton in the groin as hard as she could. Another groan. This one from Compton. His face contorted into a mask of pain. He drew a deep raspy breath and howled, clutching himself. She kicked him again, smashing his hand too. He dropped to the ground, and she stomped on his knee, relishing the crunch of bones.

  Yes!

  Compton curled on his side, writhing in agony, oblivious to the goings-on around him. She kicked him one more time for good measure.

  A quick check showed Lucier trading punches with his guard, duckin
g a left hook and coming back with a right cross. He swung a low kick into his opponent’s leg, throwing him off balance and sending him to the tarmac. The gun flew from his hand and skidded into the heavy brush surrounding the hangar. The guy hopped to his feet, limping and stunned, but still swinging.

  Diana glanced at Compton―still out of commission, then at Cal, who held his own with a panting, overweight rival past his prime, and Seth, whose left arm hung useless at his side, blood covering shirt, gripped his adversary’s gun with his good hand and turned the muzzle away. Anat, Maia, and the children were nowhere to be seen.

  Diana skirted the melee to search for the gun in the brush. Damn. Where did it go? She kicked her way around the heavy growth. On her hands and knees, she plowed through the thicket. Sharp needles of dried brush pricked her skin, but she kept crawling, searching.

  Checking back to gauge her time, she saw Seth head-butt the brute’s nose. Blood splattered everywhere. He dropped his gun and clutched his nose with both hands. Seth crumpled to his knees, his face drained of color, and keeled over. Diana gave up her search, dodged Cal’s scuffle, and dove for the gun near Seth before Broken Nose nabbed it first. Breathless, she lifted the weapon and shot twice in the air.

  Cal’s fat man lost focus at the sound of the gunshots, and Cal scooped the gun from his hand, wiping his sleeve across his forehead to keep the sweat from clouding his vision.

  Lucier put his man down with a hard right to the jaw. He moved slowly toward Diana, who stood holding the gun in a death grip with a trembling hand. “You can let go now, my love,” he said. “You’ve done enough.” He kissed her head. “More than enough.”

  She wanted to release the weapon, but she couldn’t. Her fingers were locked onto the handle.

  Lucier pried it from her hand. “Everything’s okay, sweetheart. We’re in control.”

  Diana responded to Lucier’s calming voice and took stock of the scene. Sobbing noises came from around the side of the hangar, and Diana hustled to the sound, fearful someone was hurt. Maia and Anat huddled together with their wailing children.