Viper Moon Page 11

He released me and drew a breath, probably to threaten me again. He stopped at the sound of a small scream. It came from the foul-smelling alley.

  I stepped to the corner of the building and peered around. Flynn stood at my back. A couple of Bastinados had the girl Joe had sent away backed up to a wall. Her blouse lay in rags at her feet and her arms crossed her chest as she huddled in terror. The girl who pretended to be a woman for Joe wasn’t so grown up now.

  “Let me do this,” I said softly to Flynn. “I need to show you something. If you interfere, I won’t let you come play with me in the Barrows again.” Time for another lesson in the Huntress’s world.

  “I should stand and watch you get killed?” Flynn’s voice carried a dangerous note.

  I laid my hand on his chest. “Please. I know what I’m doing.”

  Another big truck passed and covered the sound of my footsteps. I moved in fast. The sadistic bastards had their backs to me, and while they wore their colored scarves, chains, and knives, they’d stripped to T-shirts in the heat. No guns exposed, but that didn’t mean they weren’t armed. I’d have to take them out fast. One was my height and the other was six or seven inches taller.

  I balled up my fist, drew back, and punched the taller one in the kidney. Hit him so hard I felt and heard the lowest rib break under my knuckles and slice into his body. He staggered forward and slammed into the Dumpster, sending rats scattering across the alley.

  The shorter one whirled and I slugged him right between the eyes—almost. His nose caved in as I’d intended, but I hit a little low and smashed his teeth. They broke rather nicely—and tore the skin across my knuckles. Sharp pain shot up my arm. I’m super strong, but not invulnerable.

  The Bastinado fell to his knees, arms limp at his sides.

  I held out my bleeding hand. “Son of a bitch. Look what you did.”

  He stared at me with wide, shocked eyes. His mouth gaped open and blood streamed over broken teeth to stain his shirt in a crimson bib. I kicked him in the stomach. He made a gurgling sound, doubled over, and smacked facedown on the pavement.

  I heard a shoe scrape and turned to see the one I’d punched in the kidney miraculously on his feet, gun drawn and pointed at me. Before I could move, Flynn jumped between us.

  He caught the Bastinado by the wrist and jerked his arm away. The gun fired once, loud as a lightning bolt in the alley’s narrow space. The Bastinado screamed as Flynn twisted his arm behind his back and relieved him of the gun. When Flynn released him, his body jerked once, then went limp.

  Flynn gave me a level stare. “I want to hear that part again. About how you know what you’re doing.”

  I sighed. I’d been showing off and screwed up big-time.

  Flynn stripped off his vest and handed it to the girl. “Come on, we’ll take you home.”

  She quickly slipped the vest on. She pointed at the Bastinados sprawled on the asphalt. “What about them?”

  I shrugged. “I guess we could call nine-one-one.”

  Flynn said nothing. He knew the Bastinado rules. He’d probably seen the torn, bloody bodies, the young girls raped, then cut to pieces. He was a cop who believed in the law, and a man who believed in justice. At times like this, the conflict must tear him apart.

  He walked away. He carried the Bastinado’s gun with him.

  I believe in justice, too. No moral conflict for me, only a little larceny. After he left, I did a quick search of the downed gang members and relieved them of their cash. The kidney guy had only a couple of twenties. The one with the smashed face carried a small roll of hundreds.

  “Here.” I offered the roll to the girl. “Go buy yourself a new blouse. Don’t tell anyone. And stay out of the Barrows.”

  She shoved it in her pocket. “Thanks. Mortgage payment. Mom’s been sick.”

  When we exited the alley, Flynn was talking on his cell phone, giving directions to Joe’s.

  “Yeah, the alley. Couple of Bastos fighting. Think they did each other. Send an ambulance if you feel like it.” He chuckled. “Of course, you should be careful, Linda. Wouldn’t want you to break a fingernail dialing for help.” He closed his phone and gave me a level stare. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he turned away before I could see if he smiled. Would the smile be for me or the fact that he’d found an orderly thing to do in a messy situation? I didn’t know.

  We drove the girl home to a lower-middle-class neighborhood and she insisted that Flynn go in with her to retrieve his vest once she had dressed. Minutes later, she came to the front door with him as he left. She smiled, said something, and Flynn laughed.

  “What did she say?” I asked when he climbed back in the car.

  “She said my girlfriend and I were really cool, but we better not piss each other off. We’d probably both end up in the hospital.” He studied me. Picturing me as a girlfriend? Not likely, even though he’d impressed me enough that I’d consider it. “Joe said he didn’t want trouble from you. Why?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve been known to break things—and people—when I find a kid being exploited or hurt.”

  He lifted my hand and studied the scrapes on my knuckles. “I’ve seen women hit that hard in the movies.”

  “But never in real life?”

  “Never in real life. I heard his rib snap from twenty feet. I don’t think I can break bones with my fists.”

  I started to remind him of Hector’s jaw, but decided the moment wasn’t right. “I don’t have superpowers, Flynn, but I’m a lot stronger than most women.”

  I let out a long breath. Now that he’d seen me fight, it was time to let him in and explain a few things.

  I drove and parked under a tree with a little shade. I told Flynn exactly how the Mother came for me when I was eighteen, and the vow I made that night. A few tales of my more successful and less violent rescues filled out the accurate, but somewhat vague, picture I painted. I left out the monsters in the sewers. That, I’d definitely have to prove to him.

  “What can I say?” Flynn asked when I finished.

  “Well, you either believe me, which is great, or you don’t. If you don’t, I’ll show you and say ‘I told you so.’ I believe in God and the Earth Mother. I believe that there is a plan for this world and humankind. My work with the Mother and Abby is a part of that.”

  “This is a religious thing for you? A holy mission? I guess questioning your belief is like me telling you your precious psychic Abby is a fraud.”

  “Abby could teach you not to call her names, but she’s not a show-off.”

  He sighed. “Are there any other surprises?” He sounded resigned, like he already knew the answer to the question.

  “Yeah, Flynn. Lots of them. Brace yourself. We’ll get to them in time.”

  chapter 13

  My phone rang and I flipped it open.

  “How is your search going?” Abby asked.

  “The usual. Shitty. Why?”

  “Bring Detective Flynn over here for supper.”

  “Abby, we have a kid to find.”

  “You won’t do that tonight. And you have to eat anyway.” She spoke with a surety I found uncomfortable. The Earth Mother’s High Priestess, like her boss lady, always knew more than she told me.

  “Okay. Be there in a while.” I closed the phone.

  “What was that?” Flynn asked.

  “We have to go to Abby’s. She says for supper, but I’ll bet there’s more to it.”

  There was. Flynn’s red truck sat parked at the curb. Company for dinner in the form of Flynn’s mother. He mumbled under his breath as I parked, but fell silent as we walked around the house to the back door.

  The room smelled heavenly as it usually did, and had the feel of a country kitchen where a family gathered. Flynn’s mother sat at the table, but she stood when we entered. She gave us a brilliant smile. A tall, rawboned woman with jet-black hair, she seemed far too young to have a son thirty years old. Only a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth made her look older than him.r />
  Most of her attention went to me. Curious, I suppose. She’d sent her son to live with a strange woman based upon faith and Abby’s word alone. She’d also dropped her daughter’s life in that woman’s hands.

  “Hello, Cassandra,” she said. “I’m Amanda Flynn.”

  To my surprise, she suddenly embraced me in strong arms. “I know you’ll find her. I know you will.” She spoke the words in a soft but passionate voice.

  I hated it. What if I failed? I’m human. I do fail.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Flynn.” That was all I could say.

  “Mother,” Flynn spoke. “I’d like to talk to you—alone.”

  When Flynn’s mother released me, he carefully grasped her arm and led her outside to the edge of the woods. I could see them through the screen door, standing forty feet away under the shade of the massive oak tree that was only an acorn when the first white man set foot in America.

  I sat at the table, and Abby, who hadn’t moved from her place by the stove, came to sit beside me. She placed her finger against her lips and shook her head when I started to speak.

  The room grew silent. Then came the sound of voices, Flynn and his mother. We shouldn’t have been able to hear their conversation, but obviously the Earth Mother wanted us to.

  “She’s a criminal,” Flynn said. He pointed toward the house. “You know what I did today? I let her play mightmakes-right and beat the shit out of—maybe even kill—two Bastinados. They—”

  “Earned it, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, Mother, but—”

  “I was married to a cop, lived with a cop, long before you were born. You think your father didn’t want to create his own law at times? Do you think he never did?”

  Flynn sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “I can’t reason with you.”

  “Listen to me, Phelan. Has anyone investigating this found a single clue?”

  “No.” He stared into the woods. Then his loving mother sent him on a spiraling journey into the convoluted realm of guilt. All mothers are good at that, including my own.

  She laid a hand on his chest. “Every day, your father was forced to look away from some crime because he had to deal with greater crimes. I’m asking you—begging you—to do the same. You know where the line can be drawn, the things you won’t do. You always have.”

  Flynn rubbed the back of his neck as if he could massage away his frustration. “But there are better ways to find Selene, Mother. I can’t keep running up and down River Street following some pagan gunslinger.”

  “Whoa!” I said to Abby. “Pagan gunslinger. Bet Mom loves that.”

  “Hush,” Abby said. “We’re hearing this for a reason.”

  Flynn’s mother wrapped her arms around him and began her final assault. He didn’t stand a chance.

  “When your father died, you gave up being a little boy. You had to grow into a man. You worked and went to school, and then on to the academy. You don’t date women—”

  “It’s not like I’m a virgin, Mother—you know that.” Flynn made a weak effort to fight back. “You also know the trouble I had with one woman in particular.”

  “That’s because you focused so much time and energy on Selene and me. I threatened you the other day. To leave and never come back. It frightened you. I was wrong. Now I’m begging you. I know perfectly well that the odds are good that she might be dead and—”

  “Don’t say that. Cass thinks—” He stopped when he realized his blunder. He’d come perilously close to admitting I’d given him some hope. “All right, Mother. You win.”

  She hugged him tighter. “Abigail says Cassandra will find her. Try to be patient.”

  Flynn stroked her hair with his hand, much as he had Elise earlier in the day. “Patient. Okay. I can tolerate her—and the snakes. She’s . . . okay. Sometimes. But if that cat sits on my face again, I’ll probably toss him out the window.”

  “Detective Flynn likes you,” Abby said to me as their voices faded.

  “He does not.”

  “And you like him.” She reached over and squeezed my hand.

  “I do not.” I pulled my hand away. Abby heard my lie and smiled.

  “Okay, yes, I like him. He’s attractive, Abby, but there’s a lot he doesn’t know.”

  “Well, hurry up and enlighten him.” Abby stood as Flynn and his mother started back toward the house. Flynn walked with sure steps, strong, vital, appealing in every way a man could be to a woman. Or did he just appeal to me? I was curious now, though. What woman gave Flynn so much trouble he had become wary of any relationship?

  “You told him about the Mother, didn’t you?” Abby asked.

  “Yes. He still doesn’t believe me. He’s met Horus and the girls and has seen how strong I am, but he’s a long way from accepting everything.”

  “He’ll come around.”

  “Why is she so adamant that he stay with me?” I scowled at her, suddenly uncomfortable, almost embarrassed, a rare feeling for me.

  Abby was silent for a moment. She sighed. “I suppose it’s my fault. I expressed concern about you being around that man, the one they call the Archangel. He is dangerous. She apparently agreed. She can see into the Barrows, I think, even if she cannot go there. I suspect she thinks Detective Flynn a better match for you.”

  “That’s bullshit.” I rubbed my gun-hand callus, reminding myself who I was and what I did. Michael was . . . Michael. Somehow, I’d placed him in a separate class from the rest of them. “Everyone tells me that he’s evil, but when I press for specifics, I receive nothing. Flynn is the only person who has pointed out crimes, but even he admits there’s no real evidence.”

  Michael had admitted he wasn’t perfect, but he’d suggested that his motives were what he considered acceptable. “Is Michael dangerous because he’s not one of hers? Or dangerous because she thinks he’ll seduce me away from her?”

  “I have no idea, but, Cass, there’s more to it. In the years that I’ve known you . . . never have I seen—Your aura, and Flynn’s, which I can see quite well, are in harmony. They fit together like a complex puzzle. They’re different, vastly different, but incredibly close to a perfect pattern.”

  The aura thing was a mystery to me, but, yes, it felt like he fit, like he belonged in my life. But what did he feel? I’d had few signals from him. He’d expressed a little admiration, but not enough to make me think it went beyond casual compliments to ease tension. And he irritated the shit out of me a lot. Not the most auspicious beginning to a great love affair of soul mates.

  The meal went well. Good food and no talk of the problem we all faced. A charming woman, Amanda Flynn. When she left, Flynn followed her out to his truck. We didn’t get to hear that conversation. When Flynn came back, he thanked Abby. Polite, but not overly friendly. She accepted his words, giving him a warm smile I certainly didn’t think he deserved.

  It was nine o’clock and full dark when we left Abby’s house.

  “What now?” Flynn asked.

  “I need to go home and feed Horus. He gets cranky when he doesn’t get his dinner on time. I don’t like going into the Barrows after dark unless I have a sure target. Too dangerous. We won’t help anyone if we get killed.” The look on his face made me want to reassure him. “I’m not finished, Flynn. I have a lot more area to cover.”

  There was also a lot less time to cover it. If I thought of one thing I could do down there, I’d have gone. The whole situation had the feel of a well-choreographed dance. I also had a feeling it would come to the dark moon night and a final raging battle. The Mother made plans and let me in on them at her convenience, not mine. But bad things could happen to Selene and Richard before then. If I could end things before that, I would.

  Flynn didn’t speak as we rode—the steaming air didn’t encourage conversation, but I was very aware of his presence. It was much like last night, when I woke to find him sleeping beside me. Even then, he’d provoked powerful emotions in me.

  When I reached my apar
tment house, the lot was full and I had to park by the Dumpster. That meant my car would be incredibly fragrant in the morning.

  Horus and the girls waited expectantly as we walked in the door.

  To my complete surprise, Flynn produced two jars of caviar from his pocket and handed them to me. I mixed it with tuna. Yum!

  “So, what do you usually do at night?” Flynn asked as I set the saucers of fishy mixture on the table. He glanced around the room. “No TV.”

  “Cable costs too much. I read.” I pointed at the bookcase. “There’re some magazines. Help yourself.”

  He walked to the bookcase and pawed through them. “Gun Digest, Herpetology Today.” He held up one. “Farmer’s Almanac with Moon Signs. No mysteries? No romance novels? You don’t even have Tolkien.”

  “No Tolkien. Fantasy is the real thing for me. Mystery, too. I don’t want to read it.” I plopped down on the couch. I avoided staring at him, even though I wanted to. “And I don’t do romance.” I’d read Tolkien in high school, happily unaware that, someday, I’d meet the Barrows version of his Orcs.

  Flynn came to sit beside me. Close enough to be intimate, but not close enough to make me uncomfortable. In fact, it felt quite good. I’m a woman who had snakes and a demanding, hardscrabble cat for friends. Unable to articulate my bizarre life to a stranger, I’d always preferred being alone most of the time.

  “I don’t do romance, either,” he said. His voice was heavy with unspoken words. “Must be something wrong with us.” He shifted his body off the miserable cushion he’d had to sit on because I knew enough to pick the good one. “Now I remember why I didn’t sleep here last night.”

  “Yeah, well, my decorator is happy.”

  Flynn grinned at me. Oh, that smile—so provocative, so delightful. “Your decorator is salesman of the month at the Salvation Army thrift store.”

  With no effort at all, he was drawing me in, making me feel things I had no right to feel. In my mind, Flynn was just as dangerous as Michael. I don’t do romance, he had said. Great. He could take me and eventually reject me. I stood. “If all you’re going to do is insult my furniture, I’m going to take a shower.”