Shepherd's Moon (4 page)

By now, most newborns would have given up. Predators are opportunists, not hunters, and they weren’t fond of victims that fought back. As he tore the coat from his head, tossing it to the ground, I groaned aloud.
What was with this guy?

When he shifted his weight to lunge, I was ready. Flipping around, I met his impermeable jaw with a roundhouse kick that reverberated through my body.

A sharp pain shot through my leg and radiated into my stomach, but somehow I kept my feet beneath me as I caught a glimpse of reddish-blonde fur as a new threat loped into the alley. Dodging, I stumbled out of the way as Billy, in his coyote form, fell upon the Newborn in an angry rush of fangs and red fur.

“Richard wants him alive!” I called out.

Or at least as alive as a dead man can be.

Billy stopped a split second from tearing the vamp’s throat out, growling and baring his long white canines as he stood squarely on the creature’s chest. The deep, threatening sound reverberated in the night.

If there is one thing a vampire fears, it’s a shifter. As far as I knew, werecreatures are the only things capable of penetrating the concrete flesh of a Vamp.

Wrapping my scarf around my bleeding arm, I slid down the wall, my throbbing leg aching. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees with a sigh of relief, then slowly stood and wiped the rain and blood from my face with a trembling hand.

At least nothing was broken, although my arm was in serious disrepair. Wincing, I reached into my tall boot with my good arm and removed the long, thin silver stakes I always carried.

“What the hell took you so long?” I demanded as I limped towards our captive, driving the stakes through the Newborn’s wrists, dispassionately ignoring the creature’s screams. Billy responded to my question with a huffing sound that sounded like he was launching into another long explanation.

I rolled my eyes and held up a hand. “Save it.”

With another long downward sweep, I drove a third stake through Azrael’s ankle. The stakes wouldn’t kill him, but they would hurt like hell. Destroying the creature was not our goal; we had bigger fish to fry. It was far more important that we discover the identity of its maker. It was bad enough that the maker had turned the man, but to leave such a dangerous creature without a Handler was even worse. An unattended vampire was a dangerous one and we’d been chasing after too many of them lately. After we discovered the one-time man’s identity, there would be family and friends to notify. I looked down on the creature as it screeched against the pain. On a better day, I might have even felt sorry for him.

Not today…

The vamp struggled against the stakes, still screaming in a high pitched cry that grated on my nerves.

Reaching into my other boot, I produced another stake and held it over his heart.

“Keep pushing me,” I snarled. He’d caused enough problems tonight, and the inhuman screeching was not helping the sharp pain building in the base of my skull.

Billy wasn’t taking any chances and retained his position, his large paws standing heavily on the vamp’s chest as he watched me with sullen, amber eyes.

I shivered against the sudden exposure to the icy rain and reached down to recover my torn coat from the wet, muddy street. At this point, partial protection was better than none at all, so I kept the coat on, but it still irritated me—the duster had been expensive. Pulling the torn leather over my shoulders, I angrily examined the long rips and tears in the coat, ignoring my ragged arm. It was too much to deal with right now, and I knew that to look at it would result in hysterics. Well, hysterics from Billy more than from me. Using my good arm to unclip my phone from its carrier, I punched in the code only to be greeted with a screen showing a long line of text messages from Richard. Ignoring them, I typed in a one-word response.

Done.

“Watch him,” I said to Billy, as I pressed send and moved to the area where the mysterious lion had appeared. I could sense nothing. There was no scent of big cat in the immediate area, a discovery that was baffling.

“Do you smell a really big cat?” I asked. Dog’s noses were a million times more sensitive than humans. If the scent of lion was in the alley, Billy would pick up on it.

He responded with a half-curious, half-amused chuff.

“Humor me,” I mumbled.

With a quick glance at the vampire, Billy ensured the creature was secure before exploring the alley. As he sniffed the night air, I knew what he was thinking—obviously, I’d had one to many blows to the head. Was it a cougar? A jaguar? Lion?
What the hell would a lion be doing in an alley in the middle of Phoenix at dusk?
I watched both he and the creature, doing my best to wring out my long braid with one hand. Billy moved further down the alley, knowing he wouldn’t find what I wanted. But, then—that isn’t unusual in our line of work. Half of this job is blind luck. The other half is just showing up.

I wondered how long it would take Richard to show up and claim his prize, hoping he wouldn’t take too long to reach us. Billy was not known for his patience and when phased, he outweighed me by nearly 50 pounds. While I wasn’t completely confident in my ability to control the situation if he ever turned on me, it did give me a little more respect for the leash laws in this state. We moved back to the Newborn who was now silent.

“Can you hold him awhile longer?”

Billy growled, offended by the question.

When shifted, he could pick up on my feelings a bit easier. That is, unless I had my guard up.

And lately, my guard was always up.

On one level, that was comforting, because until I understood what we were dealing with in terms of the invisible protector who had long since disappeared into the night, I didn’t need Billy involved. He would only worry, and when he was worried about me—the only thing he ever seemed to take seriously — he wasn’t focused.

Nudging my injured arm, he licked it softly until I placed it gently on the coarse scruff of his neck. Together we stood in silence awaiting transport as the pelting rain subsided to a soft drizzle…

“I’m not going to go talk to your neighbor’s cat, Richard.”

My boss, at least my boss for the next two years, studied me as I stood near the window, his eyes thoughtful. Richard is handsome in a mature sort of way — of that there is no doubt. Most of his department calls him the George Clooney of Weird, primarily due to his association with us.

Cradling my bandaged arm, I stared through the silk leaves of the fabricated foliage that adorned his large office at Phoenix Metro, trying to get a decent view out the window, but all I could see was the parking lot. Bored with our conversation, I scanned the office. Nothing in the room spoke of a life outside of work. If I hadn’t known him since I began living with Joseph and Isabo, I would think he had no other life. The entire office was devoid of anything personal. Richard had always been good in keeping his personal and business lives separate — a concept I had very little familiarity with.

Other than a few books, there was nothing to suggest that he had any interests outside of police work.

Scanning the titles, I reached for a random text, which happened to be on deviant psychology, and thumbed through it.

“I told you, Alex, it’s not a normal domestic.” He stood and circled the desk, taking the book from my hands and placing it back into position on the shelf, then returned to his desk. “And I would consider it a personal favor.”

I laughed out loud, the movement causing me to wince after the beating I had taken with the Newborn last night. “I’m guessing that personal favors are frowned on by your HR department, aren’t they?”

He pressed his lips together, letting me know he was in no mood to deal with my attitude. It doesn’t take much with Richard. Stress is something he has learned to accept in his life. Attitude from others is not. Retired military, he was accustomed to absolute obedience, which is not something he ever got from me. Today his hair looked grayer than normal. I always thought of him as approaching the sixty-year threshold, but he could have been closer to forty years old after dealing with me for so long. Standing at 5’7 , he didn’t exactly tower over his officers, but he had earned their respect, as well as their fear.

Then again, if size really did matter, I wouldn’t be the human equivalent of an alpha in a house filled with a pack of wereanimals.

“Alex,” he ran a weathered hand through his gray hair. “This isn’t going to hurt you and it will go a long way towards making my life a little less complex.”

“And yet, while I’m out simplifying your life, mine somehow gets more complex. What I’d like is for my life to be a little easier.” Somehow I managed to avoid glaring at him.

Richard had a unique ability to calm others, and he was particularly good at working that skill on me. Today I wanted to stay mad at him. Frustrated, I waved my good hand at him. “Why is it that I’m spending my days pet-sitting a half wild pack of Weres and vampires and you’re the one who needs an easier life?”

Closing out of the computer screen he was on, his voice reflected a hint of amusement. “If memory serves, I believe that I have assisted you with a favor or two in the past, and working with my department
already
makes your life easier.”

“Fine.” I walked to the corner of his desk and rested my hip on the edge. “I’ll tell you what — you stop tracking my every move and I’ll figure out what’s up with your neighbor’s cat.”

“No,” he said, “in a voice that implied it should have been obvious. “

Joseph had been of the mind that I shouldn’t be too difficult to find at any given time. Given my propensity for leaving whenever I wanted as a teen, I can’t say that I blamed him. At the age of thirteen, I received my first implanted microchip that tracked my location. As a teen, I was barely aware of its existence. Joseph had always valued his freedom and my safety was his only real concern.

However, Richard had somehow inherited Joseph’s concern for me — and that was becoming more and more of a problem. Being tracked did not lend itself to a lot of private time. Besides that, he never showed up at a time that was convenient — like when I was getting my ass handed to me by a Newborn. If he was going to track me, he may as well make use of the technology to make sure I stayed in one piece.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” he murmured. “You’re too valuable to lose. Not to mention that Joseph would climb from his grave and stake me if anything happened to you. Besides, you haven’t brought in Azrael’s Handler yet. Consider it a penalty.”

“Yeah, but I brought in Azrael. Use him to find the handler.”

Lowering his eyes he said, “Azrael expired in the tank.”

Expired.
There’s a word for you. The
tank
was admittedly a place no creature — human or preternatural — would want to spend any time, but it’s the safest way we had to contain a vampire. It looked like a medieval torture device. Hell, it probably
had
been at some point. The tank was essentially an upright coffin. Prisoners were placed inside and the doors were closed as long spikes penetrated the ankles, wrists and shoulders of the accused. In the case of vampires, the coffin-like contraption was filled with water. The metal stakes were enough to keep a Newborn quiet and weakened them substantially if they stayed in place too long.

Brutal, but effective.

It never should have killed them though. So the news caught me off guard. How did that happen?

He shrugged and reached for a file. It happens.

Secrets. Great.
I shook my head. I don’t have any great love of vampires, but if I’m required to bring them in alive, I figure Richard at least has the obligation to keep them that way. It hadn’t even been 24 hours. But, arguing the point would be a waste of time. Richard does what he wants, when he wants.

“Okay — so you need the Handler.”

“Yes.”

“But, you want me to go talk to a cat first.”

He nodded once, without looking up. “I’m putting Billy on this case for now.”

“Not without a partner.” Regardless of who Billy works for, he’s still under my protection and there was no way I would let him out on the streets alone.

“Brock has agreed to help out for a few days, “ Richard answered.

I rolled my eyes. “You know how that’s going to turn out. Thanks a lot for that, by the way. Geez. You don’t put an alpha wolf and a coyote on the same case together, Richard. It’s a recipe for disaster, and I’ll be the one cleaning up the mess.”

“They’re on warning to get along.” Closing the file, he glanced up at me. “Besides, a little time away from this case may give you some perspective.”

I don’t fail often, but when I do, I’m not afraid to take my lumps. And he was right. I hadn’t found the Handler. “Fine. I’ll go see your neighbor about her damned cat. What’s her name?”

“Meg Jensen.”

“And what does Meg Jensen do besides worry about her cat?” I asked.

He shot me a warning glance. Apparently I was pushing my luck. “She just retired from the Parallax Corporation.”

“The pharmaceutical company?”