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Authors: June Stevens

Tags: #romance, #mystery, #paranormal, #urban fantasy

VoodooMoon (7 page)

BOOK: VoodooMoon
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I told them as much as I could about my night and morning. Of course it wasn’t that much, because of confidentiality rules, but it was enough. The moment I mentioned Ian Barroes’ name my sisters both raised eyebrows at me.

“He asked for you again?” River asked quietly. She was too polite to put into words what the sly smile on her face said.

Anya had no such compunction. “You two have been dancing around for four or five years now. When are you just going to finally jump his bones and get it over with already?”

While River rarely dated or expressed sexual interest in anyone, Anya and I had a similar philosophy on sex and relationships. Neither of us was interested in a long term relationship, we were happy with our lives at they were. However neither were we prudes. We were grown women with healthy sexual appetites which we indulged when and with whom we pleased. We did, however, each have our own personal set of rules that governed our choices for sexual partners.

“He’s a colleague,” I said. Knowing that I couldn’t say I didn’t want to sleep with Ian. That would be a lie, and the Moon sisters didn’t lie to each other.

Anya let out a bark of laughter. “Really? And you’ve never slept with someone you work with? What about Rangel, isn’t he a City Guard? Oh, and what was that Blade’s name…”

“Yeah, yeah.” I broke in. “I get your point, no need to start making a list. But it’s different with Barroes. I don’t think I even like him.”

“You don’t think?” One of Anya’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rose.

“I don’t, I don’t like him.”

“And what’s wrong with him besides the fact that he is a fabulously rich necromancer with a great ass?” Anya asked as she took her dishes to the wash tub.

“Well, I don’t suppose there is a problem with the great ass. But you said the rest yourself.” I said, indignantly.

“You can’t keep hating those who are rich just because we grew up poor. I know you resent the fact that your grandparents never helped Pinky financially and refused to turn your father’s inheritance over to you. But that was them, not Ian or any other rich person. I know how much we struggled and how much of the burden you took on yourself to help Pinky take care of us, but you can’t hold any of that against Ian.” River’s voice was soft and calming, yet firm.

I reached over and patted her hand. “I know little sister. You’re right. And I don’t dislike him just because he is rich. Though, the fact that his family made their money by using magic to circumvent the law and take advantage of people does not help matters. And before you say that is his family, not him, remember he is a Necromancer.”

“He is. But is he not the founder of the Necromancer’s Guild? Did he not try to make up for his families past crimes by creating a governing organization that holds necromancers to higher standards and has eliminated charlatans like the one your mother went to?”

If it had been anyone else I would have winced at the mention of my mother and likely gotten pissed. But not with River. She meant no disrespect and would never have mentioned it if she didn’t feel it was important. That made me a little nervous.

“All of what you say is true, but I’m still not sure about him. Tell me, little sister, why are you? Why are you so adamant that I like Ian Barroes?”

“I’m not. Or, I don’t think I am. I haven’t had a vision of you two making babies or something so you can get that terrified look off your face!” She giggled. “I just have a feeling that there is more to Ian than meets the eye and you would be cheating yourself out of knowing what it is if you don’t loosen up and give him a chance.”

Anya snickered. “Personally, I think there is a lot under his clothes that doesn’t meet the eye and you’d be cheating yourself out of seeing it all if you don’t loosen up and give him a chance.”

I couldn’t help laughing. I didn’t know about what River had said, but I had a suspicion that Anya was right. Under those clothes that uptight man probably had a glorious body.

Anya let out a long sigh. “It has been fun sisters, but I better get downstairs before Pinky comes looking for me.”

“Yes, and I need to get to bed, dawn comes early. What are you going to do with your night, Fee? Do you have an assignment?”

“I’m off until tomorrow. I’m not tired enough to sleep. Maybe I’ll go downstairs and help out.” I said.

“We have plenty of help tonight, but come down anyway. You can enjoy your night off. Night Rivs. See you in the morning.” Anya called as she raced down the stairs.

“She’s right, you know.” River said softly as she dunked a rag into soapy water. “You do need to relax and have some fun. Though I’d like to see you meditating a little more, having a drink and conversation with friends will do you almost as much good.”

I watched my sister flit around wiping down the large wooden table and counter tops. Her hair, so pale it was almost white, was pulled back into a loose braid that reached the middle of her back. She wore a long, loose fitting dress that was so faded from washings that I couldn’t be sure of its original color, but I thought might have been yellow. It was patched in several areas and there was a spot above the elbow that was wearing quite thin. It should have been thrown out years ago, but I knew better than to say so to River. Though the three of us had been working and bringing in income to the family for several years now and we could afford simple necessities, River didn’t think new clothes for her were a necessity.

Though she was the youngest, River was truly the mother of us all, even Pinky. She was so soft and tiny, so caring. She grew most of our food and tended to almost all of the housework and cooking. Anya and Pinky took care of the cleaning of the bar, and all of us pitched in upstairs when we could, but River said she enjoyed the work and even when we did try to help she’d usually shoo us off.

I suppose we all took care of each other in our own ways, I’d always felt it was my duty to provide for my sisters and protect them. I’d done that by getting admitted to the Academy for Guard training two years earlier than I should have been eligible and by talking Sam into admitting both of my sisters to the Academy though we couldn’t pay like the rich families.

Anya, though she was a skilled enough fighter to be a Guard, even a Blade, could never be either. Though I knew it was her deepest desire. She was a norm. Born without the ability to manipulate magical energy, she didn’t have shifter genes, and of course, she wasn’t a vampire. That meant that she was useless in law enforcement. With her training she could have worked in an administrative position, but that wasn’t my sister’s style. Instead, after graduating, she did what she’d always intended to do, she worked in the pub, taking some of the burden off of Pinky and helping provide for us all.

River too, had gone to the Academy. She had no desire to work in law, but she had a love of learning that amazed me. So she went through the magic and science courses, refusing to take any combat training, instead focusing on Healer training. She excelled, and had a position at the hospital waiting for her when she graduated three years ago. But within a month we all knew it wasn’t for her. I think she only stayed as long as she did because she didn’t want to disappoint us.

River is a gentle, caring soul and it didn’t take long for us to see that being around sickness, death and suffering all day took a toll on her we couldn’t have foreseen. Her empathy kept her worried and up at night wondering about her patients. Her already pale skin became sallow and the circles under her eyes were so dark they looked like bruises. Once bright and cheerful, she hardly smiled anymore, the sadness and solemnity of her job weighing heavily on her. She looked almost relieved when we all sat her down and told her we felt like she should find another job.

So, she went back to doing what she loved; tending her rooftop gardens, tending house, and bringing smiles and laughter to all she meets. Now she sells her produce and the herbal concoctions she makes up at the public market. She is happy and healthy and does everything in her power to keep us that way as well.

“I promise I’ll spend half an hour meditating before bed.” I took the cup and plate River had in her hand. “Now, off to bed with you. I’ll finish cleaning up. No, don’t argue. Go on.”

To my surprise River actually obeyed. “Good night, Fee.” She said, kissing me on the cheek then padding off to her room.

I finished up the dishes and, using a rope of energy, floated the dishpan out the window to the rooftop garden for River to use for her plants. Then I went to my room to change into something more appropriate to wear downstairs to the pub.

 

EIGHT

 

FIONA

 

I sucked in the stale aromas of mead, ale, whiskey, moonshine, joint smoke and body odor. When I thought about it, it sounded disgusting, but it smelled like home, warmth and safety to me.

The pub was as much my home as the apartment upstairs. Pinky had tried to limit our time downstairs when we were very young, but I used to sneak down at night and sit on the landing in the exact spot I stood now and listen to the buzz of conversation and music. I often fell asleep there and woke up in my own bed. I’d get a mild admonishment from Pinky with the promise that if I did it again he’d leave me to sleep on the cold floor all night. Of course, I never listened, and he always carried me up to bed.

As we got older he would let us come down for a few hours and even let Anya and I help out behind the bar. River preferred to hang out in the kitchen where Pinky brewed and fermented his own mead.

There were a few nights a week when it was packed wall to wall with the young mage crowd, but for the most part the atmosphere was more subdued and the regular crowd much older, even if most of them didn’t look it. The pub was primarily a vampire hang out, but not like most of the bars in the city. Pinky’s had a reputation as a good place to have a drink and conversation in a subdued atmosphere. Of course, calm was a relative term.

On a night when there was a crowd of rowdy young mages on weekend break from the Academy and out for a good time someone not used to the city would not call the pub subdued. But when compared to many of the vampire clubs where human blood was on the menu and sex on the dance floor was a normal activity, even on the most rowdy night, Pinky’s was downright calm.

Pinky’s, though called a pub, didn’t serve food of any type. That included blood. Nor was the consumption of blood allowed within the building. Of course, human blood wasn’t really considered a food. Vampires, humans infected with the Nosophoros-V virus, or N-V for short, can’t get substantial nutrition from vegetables or cooked meats. Though most vampires I knew ate regular foods as well, they also had to consume raw blood to get ample nutrition. Contrary to the myths and horror stories of old, the blood didn’t have to be human. The blood of animals was more to their taste and provided them with the nutrition they needed.

There were those who had a taste for human blood, not for the nutritional value, but the other properties it held. For a Vampire, human blood isn’t food. It is a drug. Because of N-V’s effect on the body, getting intoxicated by drinking alcohol or smoking a joint is hard for most vampires. Their metabolism is such that it takes a lot to alter their perception. Human blood does that for them with just a few sips.

There had been a time when Pinky had served blood, but when he took in three little girls he had changed the pub’s policies pretty quickly. Only animal blood was legal to serve in any restaurant or bar, but any bar or club that allowed the consumption of blood also had to deal with the Suckers that came along with it. There were non-vamps, both mage and norms, who offered themselves up to Vampires to have the blood sucked directly from their veins. Some did it for money, but others did it only for the high they got from the combination of blood loss and the agents in Vampire saliva that brought on a euphoric feeling. Suckers were junkies, addicted to getting bitten.

Super strength and low inhibitions are a natural side effect of N-V, but human blood tends to magnify those effects while also clouding the mind. Add non-vamps with lowered inhibitions that would do anything to get sucked on, and you can get a pretty rough scene going. Pinky didn’t think it was safe to have that sort of crowd just a couple of floors below us.

Instead, the pub catered to older vampires who craved something a little more peaceful and a bit of a taste of time before vampires were allowed to give into their every whim in public. Though they would be comfortable in any norm or mage bar, they preferred Pinky’s because, except for my sisters and I and the young kids on the weekends, most of the regulars were centuries old. While most of them didn’t look past thirty, they often sat around talking about old times that took place hundreds of years ago.

Tonight the pub was busy but not crowded. There were around thirty people, most of whom I recognized, scattered about the main room sitting at the bar, chatting at tables, or dancing to the songs being crooned out by the single guitar player/singer on the corner stage. I couldn’t see them from where I stood, but I would have bet there were five or six men sitting around a large table in the back room playing cards.

Pinky was at one end of the bar, pouring drinks and chatting with customers. His wide grin was infectious. I don’t know what profession he had before the Cataclysm, he didn’t talk much about his past, but whatever it was it couldn’t have been as perfect a fit for him as being a barkeep. With his clear blue smiling eyes and effervescent personality he put people at ease and invited conversation. There was a bright, full of life quality to him that seemed to breathe life into the most somber room.

His thick and curly shaggy brown hair, perpetual three day old beard growth, and lanky build added to his laughing blue eyes gave him an approachable sexiness that drew people to him like moths to flames. Though he didn’t appear to be a day over nineteen, he was well over two hundred years old. Yet, though he’d seen as many bad days as anyone else who ventured into the bar, he had a perpetual air of youth, vitality and openness about him. He made even the straightest of men question which team they played for, which was lucky since he was pretty flexible on the subject himself.

Few people knew the strength and determination hidden behind the smiles. Though he looked like he’d just hit manhood he was the only father my sister’s and I had ever known. When it came to the safety and happiness of any of his girls, as he called us, the soft openness could be replaced with a hard ruthlessness few could imagine within seconds.

As I watched him serve drinks and flirt with customers a man walked in, stepped up to the bar and waved to catch Pinky’s attention. The man’s back was too me but there was something about his broad shouldered build, mannerisms, and immaculate khaki pants that gave me a pretty good idea of who he was. Pinky leaned across the bar towards the man, listened for a moment then leaned back, his eyes darting around the room. Within seconds he found what he was looking for and with a grin pointed up at me. My stomach clenched as Ian turned and fixed his gaze on me.

What in Hades was he doing here? To my knowledge Ian Barroes had never set foot in Pinky’s Pub before. I would lay bets that with his uptight attitude he’d never set foot in any bar before. But he wasn’t in just any bar, he was in my bar. My home. And he was, very apparently, looking for me.

I glanced down at my clothes to make sure I looked okay. My outfit wasn’t too different from what I wore for work. I wore leather pants and vest, but the vest was new and I wore only a black tank top underneath. I’d also left off my weapons belt and borrowed a pair of Anya’s spiky-heeled boots instead of my clunky, mud caked combat boots. I’d also left my hair out of its normal braid so it fell around my shoulders in a mass of ebony waves.

I suddenly felt like a complete idiot. I wasn’t some love sick girl and he wasn’t my next conquest. He was probably there to discuss something work related. Something too sensitive to talk about on the scry. Yes, that was it. This was a business call. Yet a small part of me couldn’t help but be glad I’d done as Anya had said and dressed appropriately for the bar.

I took a deep breath and headed down the stairs to see why Ian Barroes had invaded my home territory.

 

BOOK: VoodooMoon
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