Vicious Moon

by Lee Roland

  “I saw what was left of those you blasted. Never had that many crawlers come through, before. Last ones died the minute they hit the street. We did clean-up duty.” Darrow was his usual steady self. All the years I’ve known him, I’ve only seen him break down once. He cried when I said good-bye. At the same time, he kept urging me to go, to have a different life. Now, sitting over coffee, he seemed as companionable as ever. Or maybe I had dropped back into the Nicky he knew from the past. Had leaving that life changed me? I like to think it had, but now I doubted.

  I blew on my coffee to cool it. “How does something like that happen? Things just wander through that Zombie thing from . . . wherever? Don’t you keep watchers posted?”

  “Aiakós won’t let us watch. He says he’ll call us if he needs us.”

  “Does that mean he actually approves of some things coming in? Things he can control? Things he can use?”

  Darrow smiled, but it was in irony, not humor. “Mostly I think he likes to kill things himself. He doesn’t want us to see his bloody hands. Oh, I expect he’s up to something he doesn’t want everyone to know about. That’s what he is. Dangerous.”

  Oh, he was. Spaneas and those other criminals proved that.

  I really needed to talk to Abigail. Why did the Mother allow such a thing as the Zombie to exist? A hole, a fucking hole in the universe. Did she care no more for us and her world?

  “How well do you know the Barrows?” I asked Darrow. “I’m looking for a building.”

  He chuckled. “Well, Nicky, there’s thousands of them.”

  I described the wheel on the building. “I only saw the corner, but the building is at least five stories high.”

  “Don’t remember seeing it. ’Course, when I go down there, I rarely look up. That’s a bad idea.”

  I sighed. Of course it wouldn’t be easy.

  After Darrow left, I went in, woke Etienne, and, instead of making love again, demanded that he dress and take me back into the Barrows—or I would go by myself. I did make a half-assed effort to explain the growing urgency that time was running out. I needed to eat again, but after that I had to move. He grumbled, bitched, and finally fell silent as the SUV crossed streets and drove around rubble, searching for a symbol I couldn’t find. I even lay on the backseat and ordered him to drive the exact route from where I burned the spider things to the compound. Nothing.

  “Nyx.” Etienne laid a hand on my shoulder. It would be dark soon, and the search would end. “Why are you so sure she’s here?”

  “She left me signs, markers. Personal markers. I should be able to find her.” We stood by the SUV, his shoulder close to mine.

  “Maybe they’re wrong.” He hesitated. “Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe she’s not here at all.”

  I closed my eyes. I wanted to cry. This was something I couldn’t work out, something I had no way of moving on.

  “She’s probably okay for now.” He spoke in a soft casual voice that sounded too condescending. But then, he had nothing to lose here.

  “What?” Something hit me then. An odd feeling, something I shouldn’t ignore. His words. Okay for now? How did he know that?

  Etienne drew me into his arms. He gave me a sweet, gentle kiss, probably to comfort me . . . only it didn’t. It certainly felt good with my head lying against his chest. Carefully lying against his chest and carefully avoiding the proximity of the Solaire he still wore under his shirt.

  “Let’s go back to the compound,” he said. “We can look again tomorrow. I’ll get a team together. Set up a search pattern.”

  I didn’t say anything, but he didn’t understand. If Marisol was hidden by magic, his men would never find her. If an abandoned building crumbled on them, or some hidden beast attacked and they were injured, it would amount to men being hurt solely in my personal interest.

  Darrow waited for us when we arrived back at the compound. He drew me aside. With his arm around my shoulders, he turned me away from Etienne. “Me, Rocky, and some of the guys are going to Larry’s tonight. You need to go, too. You need to get away from . . . him. Have a few drinks. You can’t search at night, so it won’t make a difference.”

  There was no animosity in Darrow’s voice, just a tiny bit of concern, of warning. Get away from him. Away from Etienne.

  “You know something I don’t?” Something strange was happening here. I had no tangible evidence that Etienne meant me harm, other than the fact he seemed to be glued to my ass 24-7.

  “I know a lot of things you don’t know, Nyx. I know you. Something’s not right. You’re not thinking right. This isn’t my Nicky.”

  I punched him in the ribs. Not hard, but he winced. Then I hugged him.

  “Okay. I’ll go. I won’t run into those two clowns I met on my first day here, will I?”

  “Nope. They’re business security. Locals who live in Duivel. They work out of an office on River Street. Oh, Etienne’s not invited. We made that clear a long time ago.” Darrow stared at Etienne. His face was stern but without malice. “It’s our place, a place to get away from and bitch about him and some of his rules.” I understood. When I worked for Darrow, we troops had our own place to escape the boss, too.

  Last night, Etienne had trusted me with his story of captivity by a witch. And he’d inadvertently let me in on a dark, powerful secret that he didn’t know himself. I needed to talk to Abigail, but didn’t have time. Perhaps I should go there instead of a bar to have fun. But wouldn’t Etienne insist on going with me? Would that cause a disturbance that might force Darrow to choose sides? Etienne’s magic had been bound a long time and he didn’t know it existed. It could wait. “Okay, give me an hour. I need to eat and—”

  “You always need to eat.”

  “Yeah, but I need to shower and change, too.” I hesitated. “Darrow, you think Etienne will try to stop me from going with you? I know we’re on better terms now, but it’s still shaky.”

  “No. He won’t.” He grinned. “I haven’t pushed him on it, because I haven’t noticed you fighting to get away from him. If you really wanted to leave, you’d have done it on that first day.”

  “He offered me something I needed. Hell, he saved my life a couple of times. Why leave?”

  Darrow laughed. “Okay, Nicky, see you in an hour.”

  I didn’t tell Etienne about going anywhere. I simply headed for the food hall and fueled up. Then I went looking for Herschel. I found him in the kitchen, in the head chef’s office. The chef was quietly discussing the next day’s menu with him. At least the chef was discussing. Herschel looked like he was paying attention, even if he didn’t talk. It was, without a doubt, the weirdest thing I’d seen since I’d entered the Barrows. I quietly backed out and left them there. The chef and the witch’s familiar had something in common. The chef produced food and Herschel consumed it. If I chose to leave here, Herschel would have to make a hard decision.

  My clothes were limited, but I did have a pair of nice black jeans and a couple of tank tops. Since I still didn’t have a bra, I put on both tanks. The Dragon’s Tears, the band on my arm, looked a little barbaric, but not bad. I brushed my hair and dug through Marisol’s things for a tube of lipstick.

  Etienne drew a startled breath when I walked out of the bathroom. He’d been sitting on the couch, drink in hand. I didn’t wait to let him ask. “I’m going out with Darrow and Rocky a while. Maybe get drunk. They’ll take care of me.”

  “I’m sure they will.” He rose and came to me. He caught my chin in his fingers and kissed me, long and sweet. Tempting, persuasive, but after a gut-wrenching battle, I managed to ignore it.

  “Do not distract me.” I stepped away.

  “You shouldn’t go. It’s not safe out there at night. You know that.”

  “And yet, many people come and go with a certain degree of safety.”

  He shrugged. That lean, tanned face of his seemed calm, but his eyes narrowed. “I’ll go with—”

  “No. Let’s get something straight. Am I your prisoner
?”

  “Nyx. You—”

  “It’s a yes or no question.”

  “I simply want to protect you.”

  “Liar. Or maybe half a lie. You don’t do anything simply. You’re painting a damned confusing picture.” I stepped back and crossed my arms.

  He did the same, his face hard and hands clenched into fists. He stood between me and the door. I heard a vehicle pull up out front. I didn’t want Darrow to have to come in and get me. If a fight started here, it would be me and Etienne.

  “Get out of my way, Etienne.”

  We both held steady amid the stillness that often preceded stupid violence. The joyous elemental forces that had united us last night, desire and loneliness, now stood against his inexplicable need to control me and my understandable need to act out my desperation and fear.

  I jumped at the knock on the door. Darrow. I pushed toward it and ran into Etienne. He caught my arms below the shoulders and held me tight. Then he released me. I shoved by without looking at him.

  When I opened the door, I twisted by Darrow and hurried down the stairs. When I reached the bottom and stepped outside, I had to stop and breathe. My guts felt like a four-car pileup with multiple injuries. Stupid. I should never have made love to him. That act had always created a binding, even if it was temporary. Now everything I did, every word I spoke, was in that personal context.

  I waited there until Darrow came down to me. I didn’t know how long it had been. I didn’t know if Darrow had words with Etienne. I didn’t ask.

  Chapter 30

  “Come on, Nicky.” Darrow wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to the car. Rocky was there, but obviously he’d recognized my need for a few minutes alone.

  Larry’s Place wasn’t bad. I inspected it with a critical eye as I did all new places. Critical as in How can I escape if I need to? as opposed to My, what an interesting decor.

  It had the typical beer odor of a bar. No matter what they served, all but the highest-class cocktail lounges smelled of beer. I liked it because beer remained my perfect beverage. The U-shaped bar was long, but narrow enough you could yell across it if you needed to. Wood floors, wood furniture, low lighting, the decorations consisted of neon beer signs. Entertainment? A jukebox in the corner spilled out country-western, but a band was setting up on a small stage in front of a dance floor. Perfect. A plain Jane establishment, with no nonsense. The people who came there were interested in the basics. Having a good time by getting drunk and/or getting laid.

  Most of the men in the bar I recognized as Darrow’s troops, though there were a few I’d never seen before. Most of those were women. Darrow, his arm still around my shoulder, dragged me to the bar, where a bartender promptly handed me a bottle of my favorite Belgian beer. It was also his favorite, so I knew he’d had the relatively obscure brew specially imported. I downed my first swallow and suddenly felt very happy.

  Darrow led me around, personally introducing me to all the men and women, all the time flattering me with adjectives directed at proving what a great fighter I was. About the third time I’d had enough.

  “Darrow, are you wanting someone to pick a fight with me? See how tough I am?”

  “No. I want them to know that you are not some ordinary piece of pussy our esteemed employer picked up.”

  “Oh.” I raised an eyebrow at that. “Is he in the habit of picking up ordinary pussy?”

  “No. He doesn’t. That’s got them a bit confused. I don’t like confusion or speculation in my troops. When we worked, you and I, we all knew our places. That’s important. This bunch doesn’t have that . . . cohesiveness . . . yet.”

  “Am I a problem?” I reached up and smoothed the frown line between his brows.

  He grinned. “No more than usual.”

  The band started playing a slow dance. Darrow drew me into his arms and onto the dance floor. He spoke softly. “I worried, when I hired you, years ago. I thought, she’s trouble. So young. Then I thought, what will happen to her if I don’t hire her? Then you stood your ground at Kimbica. Never once did I think you’d desert us, run away, or betray. That’s what scares me. Etienne is a good boss. He’ll fight, he won’t run. But I can’t trust him. He won’t let me in, refuses to tell me things his second-in-command should know.”

  I sighed and relaxed against him. “It’s hard, Darrow. Sometimes, when I had to use a little magic, you asked me questions, questions I couldn’t answer because . . . I couldn’t. I haven’t taken any official witch’s vows. I don’t want to. But some things have been ground into me from the time I could understand the language. There are things you don’t talk about with people who aren’t like you. This is just a guess, but I’d say some of the things Etienne isn’t telling you are too dangerous for you to know.” I kissed him on the cheek. “And some of it is pure bullshit. Not many choices there. You can leave. Or you can stay and keep a close eye on your own ass. You were always good at covering your own.”

  That got me a good laugh. Darrow had become sensitive to the magic in me. That isn’t uncommon among witches who live in the general populace. Eventually, those close to you sense the difference. In some subtle way, Darrow could feel Etienne’s magic. That made him uneasy, the contrast between two people, one he cared for, me, and another he barely knew. It would not be instantly resolved.

  As had often happened, Darrow’s men and women, his gang, had taken over the bar. Others, feeling left out, departed. Only those who had already connected with a partner for the night remained.

  Darrow and I were sitting at a table when Rocky sidled up close to me. “Come on, Nicky, do the glass thing for me. These guys haven’t seen it yet.”

  I laughed. Easy laughing since I was on my fourth beer. “You aren’t going to win a dime, Rocky. This bunch has seen too much here in the Barrows. You won’t fool them. And this is a nice place. Don’t start a fight.”

  He’d had a few beers, too. Damned if he didn’t pout like a kid. “Please.”

  I glanced at Darrow. He shrugged, but kept smiling.

  It didn’t take long for Rocky to set up. All I needed was ten regular drink glasses, real glass, and a flat table. The trick, not exactly a trick since I used magic, was to stack the glasses in an absolutely impossible manner. The first glass went down and the second balanced with its bottom edge perched precariously on the rim of the first glass. The next one was stacked, bottom to rim, until I had a sawtooth pattern of glasses, held by a tiny bit of magic. I refused to allow gravity to rule the stack.

  Rocky got to pout again, because no one would take his bets about when they would fall. Like I told him, these people had seen too much. Unlike the idiots around the world in general, they believed, they knew, that there were things that couldn’t be seen. I’d bet they had also seen some things they’d rather forget. Some of them had been there the day I levitated the rock and tossed it through the wall of a building.

  I made my way around the room talking, enjoying myself. Sometimes, the conversation turned, sadly, to Salvatore. I was pleased to learn that they respected him, and shocked to learn that he’d spoken occasionally of me. Spoken of me as a daughter he’d cared for.

  I passed Rocky and he dragged me onto his lap. “You gotta help me tell this story.”

  “Oh, no.” I shook a finger at the men gathered around the table. “He lies.”

  “Then you can keep it straight.” Rocky pulled me closer. “See, we were guarding this convoy, when along comes some really bad guys.”

  I pushed off his lap and into a chair. I had to tell the truth. “By really bad guys, Rocky means they kicked our asses and took the merchandise we were guarding.” Someone set another beer in front of me.

  Rocky nodded. “They did indeed. Big ass-kick. Hurts me to think about it.” He laid his hand over his heart, not his ass. “But we followed them, looking for a way to get the stuff back. We found it, but it looked like there was no way, no way in hell, we were going to recover. So, the witch, here—” He grabbed my hand and kissed
my fingers. “She decides, all by herself, that if we can’t have it, no one could.”

  “What happened, honey, you make it disappear by magic?” one of the drunker of our companions offered.

  I was laughing by then. Things like that are always funny when you look back—when you actually survive your own idiotic ideas. “Magic? Shit, no. I snuck in the place with a significant amount of C-4, set a timer, and ran like hell.” I lifted my bottle in a toast. “Here’s to my stupidity and high explosives. That’s why God made good old C-4.”

  “Yeah,” Rocky said. “But me and the guys had already made our way in and were taking back our cargo, when Nicky comes racing toward us, yelling at us to run.”

  I held up my hand. “It was not my fault. The good old boys’ club conveniently left me out of their recapture-of-merchandise plans. Serves them right. At least I warned them.”

  The laughter at the telling of that story improved my mood considerably.

  When I did sit again, it was with three of the women in the troop. Two of them were friendly, but the third, Helen, was not. Helen, a thick woman, mostly muscle, had a face with wrinkles that had worn into a deep permanent scowl.

  “So.” Helen spit the word out. “You’re one of those witches.”

  “Those witches? Don’t know about that. I’m a witch. Not sure which subspecies I actually belong to.”

  That got a giggle from the others, but not Helen.

  “Blasphemy.” Helen muttered the word and the others shifted in their seats, obviously discomfited. She lifted a large, uncomfortable-looking cross from under her shirt. Uh-oh. Zealot with a capital Z. So not what I needed.

  I’d met zealots before. They unfortunately come in both sexes and all shapes, sizes, and persuasions. Some are religious and others simply obsessive-compulsive individuals. Basically, they’re not live-and-let-live individuals, but they can be ignored. Unless they have enough money to force people to do things their way—or enough faithful followers to force people to do things their way. I doubted that Helen had money or followers, but I wanted no arguments. I did wonder how she managed to reconcile her beliefs with her profession. She enlightened me.