Louisiana Moon

by Rhea, Lani

  The old lady held up a voodoo rosary with rattlesnake tails and bones, shaking the thing in Kris’s direction. Words she didn’t understand escaped a toothless mouth and dripped from a blackened tongue.

  Certain she was being cursed, Kris backed toward the door with the picture clutched to her chest. She bumped into a low table. A noxious concoction spilled and dripped brown liquid on her bare leg. Bubbling pain peeled her skin like boiling grease.

  She stifled the need to yell. Nothing came out, not even a squeak. She remained calm and quiet. Hot tears stung and threatened to spill. Sizzling hissed from the spot on her calf.

  A howling gust of wind forced open the front door.

  She ran, limping down the porch stairs, falling on the gravel below and scuffing her knees and palms. The picture flew from her hands. She held her throbbing knees close to her chest, careful not to connect with the burn. As she turned on her back to face the house, the old woman stood near the door. Kris swallowed hard. Her eyes opened wide and her heart leapt into next week.

  Dark shadows swept across the house from the graveyard, shooting to the gargoyles that were perched on the stone staircase. The cement on the guard dogs cracked. Their eyes lit with a shiny green glare. Necks turned, grinding rocks. Snarling lips showed pointy cement teeth.

  Her mouth dropped open. Damn Ryant for being right. She wouldn’t have believed it true if not for her own eyes.

  At the top of the stairs, the old woman pointed a crooked finger in her direction, continuing with the eerie chant. Lightning slashed through the sky. The supernatural fog filled in faster around Kris’s cradled position, sticking to her skin. She flung her arms to pull away from the miasma as she watched the statues.

  Another demon shot into the briar thorn goddess. Raising the spear to its head, the demon-inhabited stone reared back to throw its weapon.

  Kris scrambled for the picture and jumped to her feet just as the spear burrowed deep into the dirt where her body had curled moments before.

  Not stopping to look back, she limped for the gate as fast as she could. Ten feet away, she willed her wolf out, for its own survival and hers. She leapt from the ground with a burst of power as her arms and legs flailed. She hurtled to the other side of the gate and landed on the roof of her car with a crash. Pain wracked her body.

  Pushing down the agony, Kris shimmied off the car roof and over the trunk. She shoved her way through the brush then, from the rear, yanked open the driver’s door. Metal creaked and groaned. With a hell of a lot of wiggling, she managed to squeeze her body through the small space.

  Inside, she locked the doors. After flinging the picture into the passenger seat, she dug for the key in her bra. Then dug some more. Holy Christ on a cracker. The blasted thing had moved. Now wasn’t the time for a wardrobe malfunction. Finally, she located the key tucked deeper, near her underwire.

  She jammed the key into the ignition and cranked the engine. It turned without hesitation. She breathed a sigh of relief as she flipped the headlights on. There in front of the car, on the other side of the gate, hunched the holey white t-shirt-wearing zombies and Grabby.

  Oh hell.

  Grabby. They’d gotten to him at the bar today. Right under her and Josh’s very noses. Oh shit.

  With eyes the color of soot, they stared at her and groaned as if she were a fresh cut T-bone at a cattlemen’s convention. Grabby even drooled, his tongue snaking over blue-tinted lips. Pasty skin, tarnished by peeling patches of dead flesh, glowed white in the bright halogen beams.

  With her nerves jangling, she slammed the car into reverse and pressed the gas pedal flat. Bumpy road and all, she’d get the hell out of there.

  Rain poured from the sky, obstructing her view. With her arm flung over the passenger headrest, she craned her neck as she navigated the car backward down the winding, overgrown path the best she could.

  A loud crash from the front made her flinch. She twisted to see what had caused the commotion, but kept her foot on the gas.

  Grabby had jumped on the hood of her car. With his head tilted to the side and a hungry expression pinching his skin, he gaped at her then pounded his forehead on the windshield. Blood smears and skin splatters ran down the glass. He snarled, saliva dribbling from his teeth and banged his head again.

  Her wolf growled.

  With a crunch, the glass splintered, and Grabby slipped his hand through the hole.

  Kris screamed, “You’re wrecking my car, you fucker!”

  With part of her attention on the grabby even when dead zombie, she used her mirrors to navigate her car. Grabby’s fingers curled and grasped at her face. She turned her head, smashing her cheek into the headrest.

  The car punched through the underbrush and swerved onto blacktop. She whipped the wheel sharply to the left. The car skidded across the narrow lane, and Grabby rolled in the opposite direction. Her head thunked into the steering wheel as the car spun, came to an abrupt halt and stalled.

  Lightheaded and stomach churning, she resisted the urge to spew her guts onto the floorboard. When she looked around to catch her bearings, she noticed she’d wound up facing the opposite direction. She turned the key. The car sputtered and failed.

  “Come on, baby, don’t quit on me now, damn it.” She took a calming breath and counted to ten.

  A glance out the back window showed Grabby silhouetted in the red glow of the brake lights. Mangled and twisted, yet moving.

  She tried the key again, and the car coughed to life. Never again would she cuss her stalled battery or one-point-four liter engine. Cranking the car into reverse, she spun the wheel doing a one eighty and the glow of headlights replaced taillights. Grabby hadn’t done more than get to his feet and now stood with hunched shoulders in the center of the road. Parts of his face were ripped and drooped past his jaw. Ain’t karma a bitch?

  He raised his good arm, hobbling toward her.

  A movement from the corner of her eye brought her attention around to see the other two zombies ambling her way. Only one way out. Forward.

  She stomped on the gas pedal. “Come on, baby. Do this right and there’s an oil change and a paint job in it for you.”

  The car barreled through Grabby. If the pop and squish of something…not bone…beneath the wheels didn’t prove a hit, well, she didn’t let it slow her determination. Pedal to the floor most of the time, she drove back to New Orleans.

  The further away she got from the house, the more the adrenaline that had carried her through much of the night wore off. Her breath came short and shallow. Sweat formed on her skin despite the fact that she was frozen from the air conditioning. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles ached as she reviewed the events of the past hour.

  Soulscapes were in Louisiana.

  Gods help everyone.

  8

  Darin James sat between two rambunctious friends in a roped off private section of The Metropolitan nightclub, celebrating one of the last few nights in town he was sure to have before leaving to join the army.

  “Are you anxious about tomorrow, man?” asked Steven, his best friend.

  “Tomorrow will be one hell of a day. I won’t regret it.” Darin raised his beer in a salute.

  “If you want, I could drive you.”

  “Nah, man, I’ll be fine. I’ve had a few days where the late night parties didn’t faze me and still went to work the next day. I can drive to the recruiting office.”

  “Falling asleep at your desk hardly entails working.” Steven clapped Darin on the back.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Seven years after high school, and he’d finally decided to join the army. The first twelve weeks of boot camp would be hell. He didn’t look forward to sleepless nights as a drill sergeant pounded his psyche, probing for weakness.

  “Look at the pretty thing on the dance floor, Darin.” Roger, the man seated to his left, pointed.

  Darin peered in the direction Roger indicated. At the sight of her, Darin tongued the back of his
top teeth as his cock twitched, awakening, at the urge to taste her.

  “Damn,” Steven choked. “I’d fuck her.”

  The woman wore a short, tight-blue dress that swelled in all the right places. Black hair fell in ringlets past her ribcage. From across the room, her fixed stare aimed at their table showed an intense “come hither” admiration.

  “You’d sleep with any woman, Steven. That’s no surprise.” Darin swigged his beer.

  “Who’s gonna make the first move?” Roger asked.

  “I’m not playing any games tonight, gentlemen.”

  “Oh, come on.” Steven nudged Darin.

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “Well, Roger and I will then.”

  “You two go right ahead.” Darin chuckled yet he kept staring at the hottie. Which fool would she pick? He sat listening to his friends’ good-natured bickering. She was too gorgeous and way out of their league to select any of them, himself included.

  “Maybe I could take her upstairs under the starlit painted ceiling and talk astronomy with her,” Roger said, adjusting his belt as he laughed.

  “Go right ahead, buddy. I’ll stay right here.” Darin’s main focus, to hang out with his buddies, faded. He didn’t know which part of the country or out of country he’d be shipped off to after he completed boot camp training. It might be a while before he’d have time like this so he wanted to remember everything about tonight.

  He examined the square wood paneling bar, accented with orange rope lights. Above the bar, purple and blue-lighted plates crowned block glass. Floor-to-ceiling white sheer curtains covered the windows in the grand room with red-velvet curtains as dividers. The environment swirled with sweaty bodies and sexually-charged public displays of affection.

  His gaze traveled to “the devil with the blue dress on” more than a few times.

  She smiled.

  In a casual move, he nodded.

  “How about if I see if I can get her to come over and talk to us?” Roger straightened his tan slacks and black shirt, loosening a couple of buttons.

  Darin snickered and shook his head. He watched people off to the side moving to the beat on the dance floor. Red, green and pink lights flashed overhead. The loud remixed music thumped beats off his chest, and he bobbed his head in sync with the rhythm. His friends’ laughter bellowed, just loud enough above the crowd and music.

  When the pretty thing slinked over, he blinked in surprise. She bit her full, pouty lips and mouthed if he’d like to dance.

  Darin pointed at himself.

  She smiled and winked.

  “Sure.” He could dance with a sexy lady one last time before heading home. No harm in that. Darin downed the beer.

  “Go get her,” Roger called after him.

  “Give us details,” Steven yelled then both men broke into whistles.

  Darin resisted the urge to flip them off. The woman turned on her high heels, sauntering toward the crowded dance floor in a seductive prance. A light scent of flowery perfume wafted in her wake, and his dick hardened even more.

  He brushed fingers through his hair to the base of his neck then straightened his tan slacks and blue shirt as he followed. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he felt honored she’d chosen him over his friends.

  On the dance floor, she swayed toward him, enticing him to join her. He encircled her tiny waist, fanning his fingers over her lower back, meshing their bodies together as Darin moved with her to the hypnotic sounds.

  Unable to look away, he was absorbed by the dark blue spheres of her eyes. A warm buzzing laced his mind the longer his gaze stayed locked on hers. She tugged his head down, and his lips connected with hers. Her kiss, a prowling passion, grew more fervent. Fingernails dug into the back of his neck sharp enough to cut but he didn’t care.

  When she nipped his bottom lip, pain mixed with pleasure shot through him. He’d never experienced anything like that kind of pain before—the sharp bite, then a coppery taste, the flavor of blood. When she sucked his bruised lip between hers, he moaned and hungered for more.

  Seconds, minutes, an eternity passed before she released his mouth. Part of his mind was in turmoil even as her low chuckle curled his toes.

  That damn enlistment date struck like church bells, bringing him back to reality. All for the country you love, man, all for the country. He’d have plenty of time for women after he finished boot camp. After he became a soldier. Shaking his head, he glanced up.

  In two dark corners in the club, there were two men standing off to the side watching people. Darin’s gaze snagged on theirs as they scanned the crowd seeming to search for a particular person.

  Something was offbeat about them, about the way they stood, the lack of a glint from the lights reflecting in their gazes. They didn’t fit into the trendy crowd.

  The hottie placed a palm on his cheek, turning his gaze to her. Entranced again, he smiled. Maybe he’d get lucky before leaving. The way she looked at him suggested he would. He’d never come across a woman with such confidence.

  She turned in his arms, her back against him as she arched, grinding her ass along his cock. Yep. No doubt now. With the way this siren climbed his pole through his pants he was going to score. He prepared for a long, wild night of sexcapades.

  The music tempo increased, and the surge of her hips matched the beats. He held her hips firm as she fucked him through their clothes. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, swallowing a groan of pleasure. He’d explode right there on the dance floor if she kept moving that way.

  A sensation crawled over his skin, and he opened his eyes. A bald guy with black, native tattoos streaking from his eyebrows to the top of his head had planted himself in front of them. Oh fuck. Was he dancing with this dude’s chick?

  Darin slowed his hips, keeping his hands clamped on female hipbones. Smiling at baldy, he prepared for a brawl. His heart raced, his muscles tightening. He leaned over the woman’s back. Nosing her skin from her neck to the side of her face, he asked, “Are you a naughty girl who’s here with her boyfriend? Are you trying to get me into a fight?” He gripped her hips tighter, trapping her ass level with his dick. She wiggled. Damn that felt good.

  “No.” She glanced over her shoulder. Her coy smile never faltered but neither was it forthcoming. “Do you want me to be? Naughty, I mean. I love how your deep brown eyes look at me.” The petite siren mewled in a seductive voice. She turned to face Darin directly. As she rested her palm on top of his shoulder, she mouthed, I want you.

  His eyes narrowed then he glanced up to see the bald man had disappeared. Maybe she told the truth. Maybe the man was searching for someone else. Darin shrugged and grinned, letting her know she’d get what she asked for. He drew her hard against his body. “You ready to leave?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She slipped her hand down and captured his, leading him across the dance floor toward the glowing exit sign.

  Darin waved to his friends. Steve and Roger both gave thumbs up and several obscene gestures of encouragement before he walked out the door.

  Outside, the loud thuds settled to pounding hums. Here, in front of the club, the street was littered with cars. Rain fell in spouts over the ledge of the balcony as lightning slashed through the sky. A few street lamps lit the dark area across the street. In the far distance, taxicabs sloshed through puddles. Steam rose from the pavement, filling the area with the fresh scent of hot asphalt. The trees around the club were covered in twinkling, blue lights which set the mood for partying.

  “I’m parked at the garage across the street.” He pointed in the direction of the four-story structure. He adjusted his crotch. Damn. He might take her in the backseat to ease his swelling, throbbing cock.

  “Perfect,” she purred. A seductive smile curled on her lips. She stroked his chest with light circles. Glistening red-tipped fingernails gave him the impression of blood.

  As soon as they arrived, dripping wet, at his car, she thrust him against the hard metal
of the driver door, licking up and down the column of his neck and returning to his mouth every few strokes. She held him pinned. Damn strong for a tiny woman.

  “You’re going to make me so happy,” she mumbled.

  He laughed. “I’ll sure give it a try. By the way, what’s your name?”

  “You can call me V.”

  “Is that short for anything?”

  She smiled a devilish grin then spun him into a frisking position. His hands rested on the top of his car. Her hands roamed over his stomach, to his crotch.

  He scanned the parking garage. As far as he could tell they were the only two people, and things were gonna get busy. He glanced around one last time for surveillance cameras and spied none. His hands curled into tight fists as she inched lower and lower. His dick strained behind the zipper. Rock hard and uncomfortable, he needed a release.

  His arms were jerked from behind. Before he could turn around, a different body stood at his backside—a much larger body. Son-of-a-bitch. He’d been set up. His nostrils flared. Ready to take down the bastard, he kept his hands in fists, prepared to turn and knock the person out.

  Heavy hands slapped on his wrists, whirling him about. “What the fuck?” Darin tried to roll his wrists loose.

  At the sight that met him, his mouth dropped open. In front of him, his seductress parted lips revealing a fanged smile. At his left, baldy with tattoos had bigger fangs. V reached up and peeled contacts from her eyes. Blue starbursts of light flashed back.

  Darin stood rigid, gulping as his body shook with terror. What was this? Vampires? This had to be a joke. This couldn’t be real. He struggled. Shoving forward, he head-butted Baldy. Fucking pinpoints of lights danced before his eyes as pain crashed, his stomach churning with nausea.

  Baldy laughed. Darin fought to gain control of his senses. He shook his head a few times. Wrong thing to do. The shaking made the pain swell like vise grips crushed his head. His body went limp against the washboard chest of Baldy.