MisStaked (19 page)

"Thank heaven for small favors,” Father Tim exclaimed, then added, “It isn't that I don't like our little chats, Breathred, but your chimp is the devil's own."

"He has no fondness for the devil, sir,” Breathred assured the priest.

"Just Catholic school girls and the occasional novice, if I remember right."

"Excuse me, Father?"

"Nothing my boy. Now, you have something to confess,” Father Tim said.

"Well, Father. This past week I got a girlfriend."

"God, be praised! Will miracles never cease?"

"Well, even so. I've found myself thinking thoughts most impure. I know it's wrong to think them, but I can't help myself."

"What manner do these thoughts take?” Father Tim asked, moving his head closer to the screen.

"The worst one is where I think about putting my tongue—"

"Yes, you want to put your tongue where?” the priest gasped excitedly, interrupting Breathred.

"In her mouth. I know you must think me horrible for thinking so,” Breathred sobbed.

"That's it? You have a girlfriend for the first time in your entire pathetic life, and the best thing you can come up with is to put you tongue in her mouth? I ought to give you fifty Hail Marys for lack of imagination,” Father Tim ranted. “You got anything else? I don't have all day, you know."

"Well, no that's about it. But there's another matter I need to talk to you about."

"What is it?” The priest snapped before lowering his voice. “I need to get transferred to a church with more enlightened parishioners. Someplace full of closet lesbians would be nice."

"Excuse me, Father?"

"Nothing, my son. Please continue."

"My friends and I are going on a mission, a dangerous mission. I fully expect to face all manner of satanic hordes. I was hoping perhaps you could bless my endeavors. I would feel better knowing God watched over me in this,” Breathred admitted.

"Be assured, my son, the good Lord will watch over you all your days,” Father Tim said with confidence. “Fools and little children—you must fit in there somewhere."

"Uh, thanks. There's one other thing. Would it be possible to get a couple of gallons of holy water?” Breathred hoped he wasn't pushing his luck.

"Check out the gift shop on your way out. Now, if that's all, silently give your Act of Contrition. Do ten Hail Marys and twenty Our Fathers to atone for your impure thoughts.” Father Tim sighed.

Bowing his head, Breathred gave his Act of Contrition. “Thank you, Father."

"Then, go with God.” Father Tim gave him the sign of the Cross. “And, Breathred—don't come back until you watch some Victoria's Secret commercials."

"Yes, sir.” Breathred answered, as he exited the confessional.

Stud was waiting for him when he left the church with two bottles of holy water under each arm. Stud shot him a sneer. Why the boy bothered with this claptrap, he would never understand. At least it gave him a chance to take in the scenery, as the girl's volleyball team sauntered past.

"Don't even think it,” Breathred warned, walking up to the chimpanzee.

"Like I could with all these damned penguins haunting the place, especially with Sister O'fillmeup over there leading the pack,” Stud groused, catching sight of a flock of nuns giving him a stabbing stare.

"Let's get out of here before they decide a preemptive strike is called for."

"So, what did the old prattle-puss have to say?"

"The usual. Stud, what's a Victoria secret?” Breathred asked.

"Something you wouldn't understand. What's our next move, Chief?” Stud silently hoped it involved food in some form or another.

"As far as I can see, the rest of the day is free. This was the last thing we needed.” Breathred indicated the jugs of holy water.

"Let's meet up with Luna and get some chow."

"Luna said she'd be tied up for most of the day. She'll meet back up with us when she's done doing whatever it is she had to do.” The faraway look on his face told Stud just how he felt about the girl's absence. “But there's no reason we can't make a guy's day out of it."

"We're one guy shy, but I'm game. Let's get some Mexican,” Stud said, cheered by the thought of food.

"No way. There is no way I'm getting on a bus with you for twelve hours after you've eaten a chimichanga—or ten,” Breathred stated, firmly.

"Then, what do you wanna eat?” Stud snapped. “And if you mention anything having to do with tofu, I'm slapping my banana in yo’ mouth."

"Look, Stud can we get serious? Do you think we're ready for all this? Luna isn't here, so I want your true opinion,” Breathred said, as they crossed the street.

"I don't know. We got the skills, but this isn't Resident Evil. We'll be doing this for real. That's enough to make me say,
Hell no
. But, Breathred, you've got something going on here that changes all that. I saw you when you were fighting those vamps at the mall. That was real, you know what I mean?” Stud paused. “If you'd asked me last week, woulda been running for the hills. Today, I think we got a shot at this."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah, but we got to do this as a team. That's the only way we can make this work—the three of us against them,” Stud added.

"Then, Mexican it is.” Breathred's tears drowned the corners of his eyes.

Luna couldn't believe she had been sitting here for two hours listening to this man pour his soul out to her. In the past two hours Uncle John had said more than she had ever remembered him saying in the entire time she had been around him on the reservation.

Listening intently to his every word, not because she was being polite, but because she truly wanted to hear his story, Luna sat like a statue. This was something he needed to say. John, or Joan, wasn't trying to excuse himself for being what he was. He was just trying to relate the story of his evolution from the man he had been, to the woman he had been born to be. There was no way Luna would have poo-pooed any of it. She had too much respect for her uncle to do that.

John finished and looked at her for some sort of response. Despite the mascara and glitter that adorned his cheeks, his eyes were still those of the John Prancing Elk she remembered. Her initial concerns were gone. He was still the man, or rather the woman, to help her.

"So, momma, knew all along?” she asked, when he finished.

"She was the only one. Your mother was the only true friend I could turn to. I'm sure the others suspected, but she was the only one I dared confide in,” he admitted.

"Well, now you have me.” She patted the back of his hand. “But what should I call you? John isn't right after what you've told me."

"Thank you for that, Luna.” John reached up wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “And you can call me Uncle Joan, all the
girls
do"

"Alright, Uncle Joan.” Luna let the name settle into her mind, finding it fit nicely there. “But how come mom never told me? She gave me your address, but that was it.” She wondered what else her mother hid from her.

"That was my fault. She called me right before you moved to Seattle and asked me to watch out for you. I've been to the place you worked once a week to make sure you were doing all right,” Joan said, a smug look on her face.

"I never even saw you,” Luna said in surprise.

"But I saw you,” Joan answered. “And the young man, who you've latched onto."

"That's kinda why I came to see you."

"Explain. I'm always up for a bit of girl-talk."

"The talisman my mother gave me is starting to give me trouble. Last night I felt Coyote's call. The talisman should have blocked it completely, but it didn't,” she explained.

Joan eyed her suspiciously. She pulled a feathered pen from her purse. Mumbling under her breath, the big woman passed the pen over Luna's head. After three passes she set it down and took Luna's face in her massive hands. Staring straight through to the soul, Luna knew her uncle had found out what was wrong.

"Your aura is shifting. It is unbalanced. That is what's interfering with the talisman's power.” Joan peered into her eyes. “All the signs point to one thing being the cause. What is this young man to you?"

"He's my life mate, though he doesn't know it yet,” she said, proudly.

"Then, that's it. The emotions of the bonding are blocking the power of the talisman,” Joan said with a flourish.

Luna pulled the talisman from her shirt. “Is there nothing you can do?"

"I must attune it to this new phase of your life. It should be relatively easy to fix. Do you by any chance have something belonging to your potential mate?” Joan took the leather bag from Luna.

"Do I look like someone who would carry something like that around?” Luna asked, indignantly.

"Honey, you got stalker written all over you. Now, give."

"Okay.” Luna pulled a lock of hair from her purse.

"Before I do this ... are you sure this man is the one? This is a serious matter, not to be trifled with. If I bind this man to your spirit self, he will always be a part of you, even if he chooses not to be the man you want him to be. After saying this, do you still wish to go forward?” Joan Prancing Elk asked, her eyes peering into Luna's with all seriousness.

"To do less would deny what I know to be true."

"Good, I hoped you'd say that. I do hate people who are wishy-washy when it comes to true love. You're either all in, or not in at all.” Joan beamed. “Now tell me, is he worth it?"

"Joan, he's more than worth it."

"Then let's get to it."

Luna sat patiently while Joan delved into the spirit world and tapped its magic. The silent workings fascinated her, just like they had when she was a small girl at her mother's knee. The oneness of it all held her rooted to her seat. Luna knew one day she too, might call this world hers, but that was many years away. Her path was in the modern world. Until that time came to pass, she was content to sit back and watch.

Joan finished the last of the magic and closed the bag. Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, she handed it back. Luna looked grave and placed it around her neck.

"It's ready to go?” The bag felt different, heavier somehow.

"Would I give it back, if it wasn't?” Joan joked.

"You don't know how much this means to me,” Luna said. “This was the only chance I had to get it done before I left for Canada."

"Why the hell would you want to go to Canada? Why would anybody for that matter?"

"Well, Breathred and I have this mission,” Luna explained.

"Like De Niro?"

"No, we have to stop some vampires from raising their queen from the dead, so they can take over the world.” Luna hoped it didn't sound as crazy to Joan as it did to her.

"Hold it a minute. Did you say Queen?” Joan asked, excitedly.

Luna giggled. “Not that kind, Girlfriend."

"Didn't think so, but it never hurts to dream. This all sounds a tad bit dangerous. Do you think you should be doing this? I mean, your mother would kill me if something happened to you."

"I'll be all right. I'm a big girl now, Uncle. Besides, somebody has to look after my Breathy,” Luna said, confidently.

"Okay, but if you need my help, here's my card. It has my cell phone number on it. So, you can reach me anytime, night or day. Understand?"

Luna took it and accepted his question for what it was—an order. She was happy to know Joan was there if they needed him. It was always good to have an ace in the hole. It wasn't that Luna thought they needed one but you never knew. Get real. They needed all the backup they could get.

Putting the card into her purse, Luna looked at the woman who had been her uncle. Under the makeup and faux weave was the man who had taught her to fish and ride a horse, even if the horse had only been the one in front of the reservation store and took a quarter to get moving. Despite all these changes, Joan Prancing Elk was someone Luna could depend on and was twice the woman she'd ever been as a man. That meant a lot.

"You got it, Uncle Joan,” she smiled.

"Now, get out of here, before the straights think I got me a new boyfriend.” Joan stood up and straightened her wig, which had slipped to the left while she was working. “It's already getting dark."

"Oh, damn!” Luna exclaimed. Breathred was going to kill her.

[Back to Table of Contents]

If it was easy to slay vampires, would you have bought this book in the first place?

Leopold had decided he wouldn't worry about anything tonight. A good day's sleep had put him in an especially exuberant mood. His hair was doing exactly what he wanted it to do. And if that wasn't good enough,
Vogue
said purple was the new pink. When you added all those things together, it came out heaven in a bottle, and he loved the vintage.

The only thing missing was a double espresso. Oh to be able to indulge in that most human of experiences. It was the only drawback of being a vampire. You could never eat or drink what you wanted. It was sort of like being on Jennie Craig without Kirstie Alley haunting you all the time. How that woman invaded his life at every turn ... But one day he would have the last laugh.

Stepping away from his dressing table, Leopold brushed a piece of lint from his collar. He was going to have to get a decorator in here while they were gone. His first plan had been to stay here while the good doctor saw to the unearthing of the Mother. With the addition of Mr. Petmyskunk, those plans had changed.

No, the vampire would need to keep an eye on things. Not a close eye. His agent would take care of that, but Leopold wanted to be near enough to jump in should the need arise. Even Lewis couldn't be trusted to see to his best interests.

The boy was just too young to un-life. The implications of what they were trying to do were beyond his feeble senses. Lewis had potential, but only age would bring that potential to flower. Leopold didn't have that long to wait. He needed experience now. The only place to find it was within himself.

His ego would not admit another vampire of equal age might do the job. Besides, they were all too prissy to get the job done right. He was the only man for it.