The Waning Moon Read online

  I was dripping with sweat by the time she called a halt more than an hour later.

  “You’re doing remarkably well for someone who’s less than half a year into her magic, but there is much more to learn. Your physical and magical fighting skills need to move to the forefront of your training. If we’re going to face more attacks, you need to be ready to defend yourself by any means necessary.”

  “Another damn reason to camp again. More room, less chance someone will wonder why I’m throwing knives, waving my sword around, and playing with fire.”

  “And that’s before we bring the dragon and wolf out to play.”

  “Do you think Isaac will cooperate?”

  Florence’s phone rang. “Speak of the devil.”

  “What are we going to do when our cell phones don’t work anymore?” I asked, feeling a bit panicked.

  “I expect we’ll find a way.”

  After dark, Florence led us to a thickly wooded area along the banks of the Olentangy River. I was practically vibrating with tension by the time we got there. Isaac was barely talking to me, and rather than fueling my guilt; it made me angrier.

  Once we found a clearing large enough, I stripped and called the dragon to the surface.

  Pain flared as my bones and tissue rearranged, disappeared, and regrew, but it was over in moments. I leaned forward and chuffed in satisfaction. Smoke puffed from my nostrils. When I was human—or Fae, or whatever—the dragon felt like a separate part of me. When I was the dragon, however, Eleanor didn’t feel like a distinct entity. We were one. I was one. Language was not adequate to describe this situation.

  “It’s not a good idea to fly right now,” Florence said. “Once we’re out of town again, it’ll be better. You never know who’s watching.”

  I snorted again. Florence jumped, and I chuffed my amusement. Flying sounded divine, but her logic was sound. My wings stretched out to their full length, and I fanned them. I glanced behind me—my peripheral vision was amazing—and then flicked out my tail. I arched up like a cat and then settled down. I sampled the air with my tongue, amazed at all the taste/scents I could discern. I tasted something new. Vampires were approaching from the air.

  I turned my attention inward and shifted. I ran to my dropped clothes and weaponry. I grabbed my silver throwing knives and made sure my sword was in easy reach. Isaac had smelled the vamps almost as soon as I had, and Florence picked up the warnings from our minds. They jogged to where I stood and prepared to stand with me.

  Moments later, a half dozen vampires landed in the clearing. I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or relieved they thought two-to-one odds were sufficient.

  One vampire rushed Florence and the remaining five split towards Isaac and me. Even though I was the only person with visible weapons, I still only got two of the vamps. The burly shifter must look like a greater threat. Fuck that.

  I threw a knife at the vamp coming in on my right. It found a home in her neck, and the wet, meaty thunk sent a shiver of nausea through me. My shudder meant I missed the second vampire. He knocked me off my feet, and his fangs descended towards my face. I called on the dragon’s heat and flung a small ball of fire right into his open mouth. The fireball muffled his scream. He shook his head like a dog with a mouthful of peanut butter, but the fireball wouldn’t drop free. He was on top of me when his head exploded, spraying brain matter everywhere. The rest turned to ash, allowing me to stand. The first vampire knelt nearby. She pulled the knife from her throat and attempted to get to her feet. I grabbed my sword and decapitated her before she’d healed enough to attack again.

  Florence had dispatched her vampire in short order and was helping Isaac with one of his two remaining attackers. I retrieved my knife from the pile of dust at my feet and sent two fireballs, one after another, at the remaining vamps. Seconds later, they exploded, and ash rained gently on our heads.

  I didn’t drop my guard. The woods around us were eerily silent.

  Slow applause echoed through the clearing as another vampire strode forward, flashing a hugely ostentatious silver wristwatch.

  “Well done. I did not think you would destroy my children so fast.” I couldn’t decide if his Russian accent was genuine or the result of too many cold war movies with KGB villains.

  Isaac and Florence took positions flanking me. “Who are you?” I asked.

  The vampire bowed with a ridiculously foppish twirl of his hand. “You may call me Grigori.”

  “What the fuck is going on, Grigori?”

  “I know who you are and I will stop you.”

  The power emanating from him was palpable. He was old, but he wasn’t as old as Isaac, much less Raj. What he lacked in age, he made up for with melodrama.

  “Everyone knows who I am, but no one has stopped me, and it doesn’t look like you did, either.”

  “You think those were all my people? That was advance forces to test defenses. If you go now, you will not see rest of my people. If you stay, we will fight. You will lose.” He leered at me. “But whichever you choose, please do not get dressed.”

  I refused to let his appreciation for my nudity intimidate me. Between the jiggling and the tendency my breasts had to get in the way of my throwing arm, naked fighting was uncomfortable, but at least I didn’t have clothing to restrict my movement. And, if it would prove to be a distraction, then I was going with it.

  “You like what you see, Grigori?” I leaned forward to emphasize the size of my breasts. His eyes followed the movement, and I threw a knife as soon as he lost eye contact.

  He held up his hand, and my silver knife went through his palm and stopped inches from his heart.

  “You cannot kill me so easy. If it were easy, I would already be dead.” He snapped his fingers and figures started appearing at the tree line. I gave up counting after two dozen, but if I had to guess, I’d say there were probably at least thirty vampires, not counting Ol’ Mustache Russkiy who zoomed up to hover over the fight. I tried to keep one eye on him as the vamps rushed us in groups of threes and fours. The one nice thing about there being more of them was they couldn’t take us all at once. The other nice thing was that vampires—at least these vampires—didn’t take advantage of long-range weaponry and were relying strictly on their absurdly powerful hand-to-hand strength combined with the deadly fangs. Not easy, not by any means, but at least better than the three of us taking on an army of snipers.

  I didn’t bother throwing my back-up knives—they weren’t silver and would only irritate the bloodsuckers. I held my rapier in a loose, defensive stance and concentrated on my tiny fireballs. Isaac took on the vamps hand-to-hand and was ripping their heads off. Florence did something involving decapitation, which was a lot messier, but equally effective.

  I created a wall of fire around the clearing to keep the vamps enclosed and watched for open mouths. As soon as the flames glinted off the fangs, I tossed in a tiny fireball. A mouthful of fire caused the vampire to panic, which fueled the flames. It didn’t take long for their heads to explode.

  When the last vamp, with the exception of the Russian floater, was dispatched, Grigori floated back down to the grass, inside my wall of fire.

  “Now I am very cross. Those were some of my favorite children.”

  I tossed a fireball at his mouth, but he was ready and batted it away. I tamped it down before it could set anything on fire and created a second circle of flames between Grigori and my panting companions.

  “What else you got?” I asked.

  “Nothing more for tonight. But you have not seen the last of me.” He straightened, pulled his cloak around him like a bad film Dracula, and launched himself into the air. Before he disappeared, though, he returned my knife.

  It pierced my skin and came to a stop as the guardless handle hit my skin. I took a deep, panicked breath and felt an indescribable scrape inside my chest. The blade rested perfectly between my heart and left lung. Blood oozed out around the handle, and I repeated to myself, you’re immorta
l, you’re immortal, you’re immortal.

  The knife was silver, but it still hurt like holy hell. My pulse increased, and a cold sweat covered my body—I was going into shock—but didn’t want to move in case that caused the knife to puncture a lung or move into my heart.

  “Isaac,” I said, looking up. He stared at me in horror. “It’s okay.” I almost laughed. I was comforting him with a fucking knife sticking out of my chest. “Can you please pull the knife out?”

  “I’m ready to staunch the bleeding,” Florence said. She had my shirt and was tearing it into strips. “Is it puncturing anything important?”

  “Other than my person? No,” I said. I wanted to say more, but the pain was making me light headed.

  “Okay, then. Isaac—focus. Grasp the handle firmly and pull it straight out. Don’t yank it, but don’t linger. If her lung isn’t punctured, we don’t need to worry about it collapsing.”

  Florence put one arm around me, bracing me for Isaac’s pull.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Do it.” In one smooth pull, the knife was out, and Florence had the t-shirt strips held against my chest to stop the bleeding. I took a deep breath, then another. Sharp pain sliced through my chest. “I would like to sit down now.”

  Florence pressed the bandages against my wound as Isaac guided me into a seated position. I reclined against him for a couple of minutes before I realized my protective fires were gone.

  “That fucker! He made me drop my defenses.”

  “He stabbed you,” Isaac said.

  “But it wasn’t even close to killing me. I can’t believe I dropped both of my fires.”

  Florence pulled the cloths away. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle.

  “You’re going to be ravenous soon,” she said. “You need water and food to help your body heal from this. Can you move yet?”

  I pushed myself up with support from Isaac. I was still a little wobbly, but otherwise okay. I said as much.

  “You should get dressed,” Florence said. “Isaac can take you back to the hotel, and I’ll find some more food. You’ll sleep well tonight, and by tomorrow morning there will be almost no sign of injury.”

  Florence brought me my clothes, and I gingerly put on my panties and jeans. When it came to the bra, though, I had to call a halt. “No way is that going on.”

  “Here.” Isaac handed me his t-shirt.

  I pulled it on. It was already soaked through with blood from Isaac’s wounds, and the sticky remains of my chest stabbing didn’t help at all. “Ummm, we’re going to have to be fast and discreet.”

  Florence handed Isaac one of the unstained remnants of my shirt which he used to wipe his blood from his body. He had no visible wounds, and only the faintest scars were still visible.

  “I can’t take you two anywhere.” She closed her eyes, and a pulse of power washed over me. When I looked down, my clothes were free of pesky blood stains, and a glance at Isaac showed the same.

  “Wow! How are you with grass stains?”

  “C’mon,” Florence said. “Let’s get you some food before you wake the dead with a growling stomach.”

  Isaac and I returned to the motel, a little disheveled, but not enough to attract attention. Florence met us at the room with four fast-food cheeseburgers, a large order of fries, a milkshake, and a gallon of water.

  It took every last scrap of food to assuage my hunger, and about a gallon of water before my equilibrium was restored. Florence kept an eye on me the whole time. When I finished my last burger, she stood up. “I’m going to my room. I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure you get some rest.”

  She shut the door, and I looked at Isaac. He’d barely said two words since the entire evening. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

  I went up to him and kissed him. He flinched back. My near-death experience hadn’t been enough for him to forget what he’d overheard earlier. I backed off. “I’m difficult to kill.”

  “I don’t think he wanted to kill you.”

  “Great! I don’t want people to want to kill me. It keeps me alive much, much longer.”

  Isaac took two steps and closed the distance between us. His head burrowed into my shoulder, and he took a deep breath. I put my arms around him, and this time he didn’t resist.

  “Are we okay?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. All I know is seeing you with a knife sticking out of your chest…it doesn’t matter that you don’t love me the way I love you.”

  I opened my mouth, but he put his hand up, silencing me. I’d told him I love him before, I didn’t know why I couldn’t do it again.

  “I heard Florence’s prophecy. I won’t push for marriage, but if your magical mind and hers agree the mate-bond will save your life, then we should do it. There’s a way out when and if you want it. It’s not an easy way out—one of us would have to bind ourselves to someone else—but it can be done.”

  I bowed my head and rested it against his chest. “I hate hurting you.”

  “I’m sorry I pushed.”

  We stood in each other’s arms until the stench of blood started to turn my stomach. “I need a shower.”

  “Need any help?”

  I smiled at him and hoped the sadness wasn’t apparent. “Always.”

  Chapter Five

  I WOKE WITH alarm bells ringing in my head. It took the barest second to realize that although they were in my head, they were pretty fucking real. I inhaled, and the scent of vampire overwhelmed me. I reached between the mattress and box spring, grabbed my rapier, and rolled over onto my back, swinging my sword up to meet the rush of air coming towards me. I opened my eyes and saw Grigori. My sword was against the front of his neck. He was smiling more than that fact should warrant.

  I shifted in bed to adjust my leverage.

  “You think you can defend yourself against me?” he asked. “That is false hope. No man can stand against me. Many tried. They are all dead.”

  I was alone with this vampire and fear overtook me. “Where’s Isaac?”

  “The werewolf I can scent all over you? He was good, but he has been tasted before.”

  That was the last straw. I sat up further and pulled the sword across his throat. He moved, but not fast enough. His throat was cut almost all the way through. His head flopped over, held only by the skin on the back.

  I watched in horror as he reached up and put his head back into position. The skin knitted together quickly, and in seconds he was no worse for wear.

  “You are not the first to try that trick. And you will not be the last. I let you see how useless it is to try to kill me. Now you know. If you lay down your weapon, I will go easy on you.”

  I snorted. “I’m sure you’ll go real easy on me.”

  “I am not like the others to throw around the hints and the banter. You will be a guest in my home, but a permanent guest. You will service me as I desire. You will want for nothing but your freedom. It will not be a bad life.”

  “And what do you get out of it?”

  “Power. Drinking from you will give me power. That govniuk in Portland is bragging about how one sip has eliminated his aversion to the sun. I will have more than that.”

  “You don’t think an age difference is partially to credit there? He must be about 1000 years older than you.”

  “You think you know my age? Go on, tell me.”

  “You’re barely more than 100 in undead years. You’re powerful, but not old. You were witch-born, like my friend you encountered last night. In the vamp world, you’re still a baby.”

  He bared his fangs. Age was obviously a sensitive subject for him.

  “You seek to provoke me, to make me kill you instead of capture you.”

  Since that was not my goal, I kept quiet.

  “It will not work. You will come with me.” His eyes flashed, and a compulsion slipped into my mind. Part of me wanted to go with him with no protest. I tightened my grip on my sword and l
et the geas have control—for the moment. I stood up.

  “Come to me now. You do not want to hurt me with your sword.”

  Since he hadn’t commanded me to drop it, I didn’t. I did, however, transfer it to my left hand. He looked at that movement approvingly, assuming that was my weak side.

  When I got within a couple feet of him, I stopped.

  “I think you will come with me.”

  Again, the words wormed their way into my mind, but this time, I didn’t let them. This was my last chance. I shook a throwing knife into my right hand, whipped it at him, and when it sank home in his heart, I decapitated him. All the way this time.

  “You cannot stop me,” he said. I grabbed my silver knife and cut out his heart.

  “I am invincible,” he said as I carried his heart into the bathroom.

  “You’re a loony,” I replied.

  I put his heart in the bathtub and sent a small burst of flame towards it. It burned slowly at first but soon went up in a puff of ash and smoke. I heard a clatter and turned to see Grigori’s headless body collapse right behind me—which was not where I’d left it. It turned to ash, too, and when I went back to the bedroom, his head, although not ash, looked pretty fucking mummified.

  The eastern sky was streaked with light when I knocked on Florence’s door. The smell of coffee was wafting from her room. I was absurdly proud for successfully defending myself pre-coffee. Florence looked me over, and for the first time since I met her, looked shocked. “What the hell has been going on?”

  “Nothing much. Had a chat with our Russian friend from last night. Some of that chat happened after I cut off his head.”

  “Where’s Isaac?”

  “I was hoping you knew.”

  I heard a door swing open and an exclamation of quiet surprise. “He’s back. I hope he didn’t spill my coffee.”

  I ran to my room and saw Isaac standing there, staring at the mummified head I’d left on the motel table. “What’s that, Eleanor?”

  “That’s Grigori. Or what’s left of him. Did he bite you?”