Vicious Moon Read online

  “Okay, Laudine. What happened after I passed out last night?”

  “A . . . creature came out of the swamp.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “A massive . . . thing. I’ve lived here a long time. I’d never seen it before. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was.” She laid her hands flat on the table to still their trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m such a coward. I ran away. I hid in an alley until just before daylight.”

  I remembered the tree trunk legs surrounding me and the sense of a massive body hanging over me like an elephant. I would probably have run, too, if I could have moved.

  I drained my coffee cup and rose to get another. “Who scraped up the burned truck and took it away?”

  “I don’t know. I heard noises before daylight. I stayed hidden.”

  And I had slept through it all. “Do you believe Etienne? That he didn’t send them?” I returned to the table.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What did Abigail say when she came?”

  “Not much.” Laudine sneered. Her shame for being a coward had smoothly morphed into irritation. “Oh, she acted all concerned, and angry that it happened, but she didn’t offer to help. She just stared at you a while, then left.”

  I finished my coffee and decided I’d better spend the day exploring. I loaded my backpack with a few essential items. I stuffed the gun in, deciding not to carry it on me. Magic and my knife should be sufficient. Very carefully applied magic. I did take Marisol’s picture and my cell phone.

  Once in the car, I called Karen in San Francisco. She answered without enthusiasm and I realized it was a little earlier out there. While I basked in the warm Missouri sun, it was probably a bit less temperate on the bay.

  “Good morning, Ms. K. What’s happening?”

  “Oh, it’s you. Finally. And we’re just peachy, thank you. MacLellen is sitting at his desk, crying. I think he’s been there all night. Harold called and said he could work better on the golf course. We wrote our aggrieved custodial father a significant check for the trouble we caused him and the little girl. Harold was drunk when he promised that despicable woman he’d get the kid. And I brought your plants in here to see if I could save them. What do you want?”

  I laughed. “Ah, and I love you, too. Go give MacLellen a hug and a pep talk. Get him food and coffee if he needs it. Tell Harold to stick to his golf game. The business will be better for it. And the plants don’t need saving, they need resurrection. I need some information ASAP.”

  “All right, let me get my notepad.”

  The business wasn’t really in bad shape. Thanks to my controlling the money and giving Harold a generous allowance to stay away, we had solid cash backup and an accountant. The bills would get paid.

  “I want you to research some things. Start with Duivel, Missouri. Look into the Archangel, Bastinados, Zombie Zone, and Abigail. You might find some weird stuff, but just record it. Look for the name Etienne with a connection to Africa and mercenaries. Spell it different ways so you don’t miss anything.”

  I told Karen I’d call her back later in the day or tomorrow. I got the feeling she was really interested in my research. She was so competent she often got bored. She stayed with the firm because we paid her an exorbitant amount of money and she really cared for us, even Harold.

  I doubted if any traditional witch would resort to using the Internet. The average witch fundamentally worked with nature and didn’t deal with electronic data. Magic and spells aside, I’d take the chance that younger witches would be savvy in the newest trends, and they might be spreading things they shouldn’t share with the world.

  I parked close to the one street where I’d seen a little cross traffic and locked and spelled the car against the improbable chance that some thief would decide he needed a gas-guzzling antique. I had a good idea of River Street, but I wanted to see more. I started walking east, leaving the relative noise of traffic behind.

  Some of the buildings I passed were abandoned. Others were obviously used, but I couldn’t determine for what. They had clean facades and numbers above each door. Across the street was a clean, well-marked parking lot. Fresh oil drips from cars staining the asphalt told of recent activity. People had come here in significant numbers at times.

  I passed Larry’s Place, the bar where Darrow said he and the others hung out. It was Thursday, so I’d try it out on Friday if I could. I walked on. Silence reigned this far from River Street. I walked past storefronts with shattered glass windows. The chunks that had fallen on the sidewalk crunched under my shoes and made a sound like popcorn in a popper. It looked like apartments stacked above the storefronts, but I had no way of verifying that. A sense of despair filled this place. A thin breeze sliding through narrow alleys between buildings carried that desperation, even if no one remained here to feel it. It gave the sense of going on forever, a rubble-filled wasteland with no end.

  Four blocks down, a ragged van drew up beside me. I’d heard it coming, of course, but the streets here were clear, so it wasn’t an improbable occurrence. Doors popped open and men poured out. I was suddenly surrounded by what could only be Bastinados, the gangs that Laudine had said united under a new leader. They all wore chains and baggy clothes that I was sure covered weapons. Some were black, some white, others of a more indeterminate race. A few glanced over their shoulders, eyes darting to cover every inch of the area behind them.

  “You come with us,” one of them said.

  “Why?”

  They closed in on me, grabbed my arms, and forced me toward the van. I let them shove me inside. They did so with little effort, so obviously they weren’t trying to hurt me. Yet. It seemed crazy, but I didn’t really feel threatened. They didn’t take my knife, probably seeing it as not much of a weapon against their masculine might. I realized that I could use magic here and no one would pay attention. It wouldn’t be like the burning truck in the middle of the street—which actually hadn’t attracted any outside notice, either. Deep in these ruins I didn’t have to hide or excuse my power as I so often did on the outside. If I could release my magic without consequence, I could take care of things, maybe with a bit more finesse than I had last night. Well, except for the thing that came out of the Bog and saved my life. That might be a bit of a challenge if it turned on me.

  The van drove three or four blocks, then turned south. It wove through piles of debris and ruined buildings, none that appeared to have been occupied in many years. Atrophy had this area firmly in its grip. We passed row houses set close to the sidewalk with shreds of curtains hung in some windows. A forlorn rusting tricycle sat on one tiny front porch, as if waiting for its owner, now probably an adult, or maybe even a senior citizen, to return. It had all the appearances of a terrifying mass exodus. What had been so alarming that it caused the desertion of square miles of a city?

  The van finally stopped in front of what might have once been a grocery store. I was again surrounded and carefully escorted inside. As we entered the building, my guards spread out. A man stood there, apparently waiting for me.

  At first I mistook him for a boy, a tall teenager. He wore a shapeless unfitted gray suit, and had brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that could only be described as pretty enough to be a girl’s. Somehow, he reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t say who. This was the leader of the armed thugs who had kidnapped me? I knew perfectly well that size or appearance didn’t dictate any kind of power, but it seemed that this guy would have to constantly prove himself.

  The gang members quickly scuttled out of the building, leaving us alone.

  “Good afternoon,” he said. He spoke in the voice of a man raised in the upper ranges of polite society. “Please pardon my methods, but I wanted to speak to you.”

  “Ever think of sending a note?”

  “No. I’m often rejected when I do that. I don’t like rejection. I am Anton Dervick.”

  My kidnapper wanted to be pleasant. I could do that. “And I’m Nyx.”

  “Nyx. Well, Nyx, you loo
k harmless enough.”

  “I am. As long as no one attacks me.”

  “As they did last night.” Dervick sounded a little too smug, especially since my attackers had the shit beat out of them.

  I nodded. Dervick was still smiling, and his body language—hands carefully clasped in front of him—seemed innocent. Again, that sense of recognition came over me. For a moment, he seemed to shimmer at the edges before settling into his unremarkable shape again.

  “Do you know what this place is?” He held out his hands in a grand gesture.

  “A fairy-tale palace in disguise?”

  A frown wrinkled his pretty face. He dropped his hands. Apparently I didn’t amuse him.

  “I mean the Barrows. As a whole.” His voice tightened, became clipped, annoyed.

  I wasn’t sure what answer he was looking for. “Streets, buildings, businesses, miles of patchwork ruins, traffic.”

  “I have a wider vision.” This time he went for a lofty tone, as if he possessed an all-knowing eye. This guy enjoyed acting, role-playing. I was not impressed. “I see it as a fortress. A fortress of what might be called paranormal energy.”

  I nodded. Dervick’s fortress was probably everything contained by the Earth Mother’s ward, constructed to keep Aiakós the demon in check. I wondered how he knew about it.

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “Last night, inside this fortress, someone, specifically you, set off a lightning storm of energy. No one who feels that paranormal energy could help but be disturbed by it.”

  I shrugged. What he called paranormal energy I called earth magic. Interesting. He’d just told me he could feel earth magic. Not impossible, but rare in a man.

  “I will defend myself, Dervick. What do you want with me?”

  He stepped closer and I pulled a little bit of his so-called “paranormal energy” from the earth. It tickled my feet and rose like bubbles of laughter. His body tensed and he stared as if he were trying to hypnotize me. He leaned forward, eager for something. His eyes had turned from brown to gold. “How did you do it? Can you do it again? Where did the thing, the creature that slaughtered men, come from? Can you summon it?”

  Oh no. I did not answer questions about magic from this guy. “How about you tell me why you attacked?”

  “To destroy that woman, of course. That devil witch.” Dervick’s fingers suddenly twitched as if playing the piano. This guy had serious issues.

  “Devil witch? Why?”

  “Because I gave her the opportunity. I invited her. Offered her great riches in exchange for a few minor things. She laughed at me. Then she killed my men.”

  “That was downright rude of her.” I raised an eyebrow. “You kidnap her? Like you did me? Try to hold her prisoner?” Laudine feared Etienne, but she obviously didn’t fear this little man.

  Dervick’s face reddened. His dancing fingers clenched into fists. “Do not mock me. She needed to know who had the real power in the situation.”

  The sounds of shots suddenly erupted. Men shouting, more shots.

  I smiled at him. “Sounds like the cavalry has arrived. Did you send for them?”

  “You come.” He waved his hand, summoning me.

  “No thanks. But it’s been fun and maybe we can talk again sometime.” I had a lot of questions for him, but I preferred not to get caught in the middle of a battle. I turned to go and a circle of fire flared around me. Now that was a surprise. The flames burned higher, closer.

  “Come with me,” Dervick threatened. “Or you’ll burn.”

  I understood part of the recognition I felt with him. He was not a witch, but he carried one of the powers I called my own. Fire. He was weak, though, and I was certainly more proficient in that area. His little ploy wouldn’t work with me. I simply snatched control of his flame. I broke the circle and sent it dancing across the room at him, flashing it up in his face. He staggered backward. Oops! I think I singed his eyebrows. The fire quickly died as I released the power holding it.

  I caught a glimpse of pure shock on Dervick’s pretty boyish face before he turned and ran. Oh, this was good. I was still laughing when Darrow raced up to me.

  “Nicky? Are you . . .” He was fully armed with automatic rifle, vest, helmet, as were the men surrounding him. They looked like a SWAT team, only there were no white letters identifying them printed on their black outfits. What in the Earth Mother’s name were they doing dressed like that?

  Etienne came marching in behind them. He didn’t go for the fancy armament and looked just fine in his jeans, T-shirt, and leather vest. He carried that significant pistol in his hand, ready to aim and fire.

  Darrow and the others surrounded me, but Etienne came close. His face was grim and those really dark eyes were full of fury as he glared at me. “What happened?”

  “And good afternoon to you, too.” I was in no mood to answer his questions. If I’d have had more time with Dervick, I might have gotten some information from the little twerp.

  After a few moments of furious silent face-off, Etienne drew a hissing breath through his teeth. “You’re a problem. I told you—”

  “I’m a problem? Well, I’ve found that if you ignore a problem long enough, it resolves itself. You could try to ignore me. I can live with that.”

  I offered him a small bit of advice that I wouldn’t take myself, simply because my problems took grave pains to bite me in the ass while I practiced ignorance.

  “And who made you king of this place, anyway?” A dark temper rose in me as I made that demand.

  He stepped closer, probably to intimidate me. I didn’t intimidate easily. I had had a few deadly confrontations that darkened my path through life. I’d won, or at least escaped, all of them.

  Etienne glared at me. “My men, my guns. That puts me in charge. I told you to leave the Barrows and you wouldn’t. Now you do as I tell you.” He whirled and stalked toward the door. “Bring her,” he ordered without looking back.

  The sudden pronouncement astonished me. He wanted me a prisoner? I hadn’t expected it. Etienne’s leadership couldn’t be faulted, but I wasn’t one of his men and he needed a lesson in manners. And a witch’s power. He might, as Laudine said, be immune to witchcraft, but I had other weapons.

  “Hey!” I shouted just as he reached the door. He stopped and turned. “Check this out, Mr. Immunity.”

  A rock the size of a football lay by his foot. It jumped in the air and stopped at eye level. He backed away from it. For all the good it would do him, he raised his gun. The room grew still with anticipation of violence. The men around me remained quiet. There were no gasps of surprise at the sudden show. With all the power I could draw without draining myself, I flung the rock toward a far wall. It punched through the wall like a cannonball—and probably through the wall of the next building. The impact came sharp as a rifle shot that reverberated through the empty building. An echo of thunder rolled around the room.

  Darrow stepped close. He’d be in the line of fire if the men started shooting at me, but my friend’s first instinct rose to protect me. How completely gratifying.

  Etienne stared at the wall where the rock had punched a three-foot hole. He had in no way lost his composure. “That was good. Behave yourself and I’ll let you do a magic show after dinner.” He walked out.

  “Son of a bitch,” one of the troops said.

  I figured his words pretty much summed up everything. Good men, though. I’d startled them, but they hadn’t panicked.

  Darrow sighed. “Nyx?”

  Darrow only called me Nyx when something was wrong. Until then I was always Nicky. His loyalty was supposed to be to the man who hired him. He didn’t want to force me, but he did as he was told or his reputation was shot. He might actually be shot along with it. The situation had placed him in a precarious position, and I would accomplish little by fighting him here.

  Under different circumstances I’d have contested Etienne’s domineering order. He had no right to take me or order me taken anywhere.
I loved Darrow and for Darrow’s sake, I went along. And, yes, Etienne and the men around me, their lack of reaction to a violent paranormal event, made me very curious.

  They surrounded me as we walked out. Darrow stayed close, walking beside me. Again, he’d be in the line of fire if I tried to escape—and he knew me. He knew I’d chosen to come. Of all those I’d worked for and with over the years, he knew me best. I had missed him.

  Etienne’s men had arrived in two large black vans. I followed Darrow in—only when he sat, I plopped down on his lap and hugged him, ratcheting his uncomfortable situation to a damned high level.

  “Thanks for the rescue,” I said softly in his ear, even though I knew everyone could hear.

  “Did you need rescuing?” He sounded doubtful.

  “No. But I truly appreciate the concern for my welfare.”

  Darrow sighed. “I told him you’d be okay. He didn’t believe me. He saw you pushed into the van.”

  He had to be Etienne.

  “He’s watching me? Or he just happened to be driving by?”

  Darrow wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  Oh, yes. I had a lot of questions for Etienne.

  Chapter 12

  Darrow introduced me to his men as an old companion, which obviously made them uncomfortable. They’d heard Etienne’s orders to forcibly take me. My easy compliance and friendship with Darrow confused them. Was I a friend or an enemy prisoner?

  I couldn’t see much, but the van moved easily through the streets. It came to a halt and a door rolled up, allowing it inside a massive warehouse. More hardware filled the space, including trucks, armored and transport vehicles. Etienne had enough equipment for a small army. I’d presume he had the men and firepower to back it up. This I hadn’t expected. While I’d come to recognize that the Barrows was strange, what was here that required such armament?

  Darrow led me out across a parking lot to another warehouse building. All I could see around me was more tall warehouses and empty streets. There were no vehicles parked outside and they appeared abandoned.