Dark Moon (19 page)

Knowing I wasn’t
going to be able to get any sleep, I finally gave in to the insomnia and
quietly got out of bed, being careful not to disturb Maryanne. When I got to
the living room, Michael was sprawled out on the couch, the TV on a low volume.

He turned when he
heard me come in. “Can’t sleep either?” he asked, sitting up.

“No,” I replied. I
sat down next Michael. He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned back against
his chest. “I feel so guilty,” I said. “I hate that I’ve caused Maryanne pain.”

“We don’t know for
sure that Sabrina is responsible,” Michael reminded me.

“Right, but do you
really believe it’s got
nothing
to do with me?”

Michael sighed. “I
don’t know. Maybe we’ll have more answers after the autopsy.”

“Maybe,” I said
skeptically.

“You and Maryanne
are welcome to stay here as long as you like,” Michael offered.

I looked up at him
gratefully. “After she’s thinking more clearly, we’ll figure it out.”

“Are you going
back to classes tomorrow? Or the hospital?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know what
the hell I’m doing,” I admitted. “I was so certain I would have to leave…” My
voice trailed off.

“Is that why you
said you didn’t think you wanted kids?” Michael asked, changing the subject.

I knew
that
meant
my dark angel half.

“Yes. Who knows if
a child would even be safe with me? I can’t guarantee anyone’s protection, not
even my own; the only reason they haven’t found me is because of the marking.”
I paused. “How do you feel about not having kids?”

“I’m not sure what
I think about the future,” Michael admitted. “But I definitely wouldn’t want
them now – or anytime soon, to be honest. And if you never changed your
mind, I would be okay with that, as long as I had you.”

I turned to face
Michael and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft; my entire body relaxed and
I ran my fingers through his hair. We kept kissing; my body was aching for him
but neither of us made a move to take it any farther. Maryanne was sleeping
soundly, but both of us knew it wouldn’t be right to do anything more than
kiss.

I melted into
Michael’s arms, enjoying the moment, almost forgetting about the nightmare of
the past week.

###

The next day
Michael had to go to work earlier than usual. Since I was a good student, I
figured my teachers would understand why I had to miss class to help my best friend
deal with the death of her boyfriend.

Maryanne was
quiet, but at least she seemed to be functioning – well, sort of. I
managed to get her to drink some coffee and choke down a couple of crackers
before Ira Gold arrived to take her to the police station to give a statement.

Once I was alone,
I didn’t know what to do with myself. Not having slept much the night before, I
tried to take a nap in Michael’s bed, but it was useless. I was going to have
to hit pure exhaustion before I’d be able to sleep again. Right now, everything
was too weird.

Maybe I can get
Michael to write me a script for Ambien.
I had taken it the first part of
my freshmen year, but I didn’t like the way it made my head clouded the next
day, so I had finally decided to try and live with the insomnia.

Michael had said
he’d tell the nurses that I wouldn’t be in all week (after all, they already
knew we were together), but I’d probably have to go back the following week. It
didn’t make sense to abandon the job, as much as I hated it, because if I was
serious about getting into med school I needed the experience on my application.

Maryanne returned
more quickly than I’d expected. “How did it go?” I asked.

“Fine. They
weren’t accusatory or anything. Just asked me some questions about…how I found
him. Ira was really nice.” Maryanne sat down on the couch. “Thank Michael again
for me.”

“Can’t you thank
him yourself?” I asked in surprise.

“I’m leaving
tomorrow.”

“What? Where are
you going?” I demanded. Maryanne was in no frame of mind to start making life
decisions, not right after a tragedy.

“My mom is flying
here and we’re driving my car back. I’m taking a leave of absence from school,”
she replied, not looking at me.

“Don’t you want to
think about it some more? You know, let your mind clear before you decide what
you want to do?” I asked gently.

Maryanne finally
looked at me. “There’s nothing for me here,” she said, her eyes filling with
tears.

“Oh, Maryanne.” I
hugged her to me. “I’m here for you,” I said, my voice muffled by her hair.

“I know you are,
and I love you, Lana, but I have to leave.” She squirmed out of my embrace and
looked me in the eyes. I could see by her expression that she had already made
up her mind and there was no changing it.

“Are you coming
back?” I whispered.

She shrugged.
“Maybe next semester. Maybe not. Right now I can’t bear the thought of being
here. Everything reminds me of Damon.” Her voice cracked.

“It’s okay to cry.
I’m here for you,” I tried to reassure her.

But Maryanne shook
her head. “I don’t want to cry anymore, not right now at least.”

I could feel my
own eyes brimming with tears. “If you leave, I’m scared I’ll never see you
again.” What a hypocrite I was. Merely twenty-four hours ago I had been
planning to abandon Maryanne, and now I was trying to stop her from going home,
getting away from everything that reminded her of her dead boyfriend.

Before she could
respond, I said quickly, “Of course I know I’ll see you again. You’re my best
friend. You’ve got to do whatever feels right. And if getting away for a while
is what it takes to make this horrible situation a little more bearable, then
do it. I will support you no matter what.”

“Thanks, Lana,”
she whispered. I squeezed her hand. “My car is still at Damon’s place,” she
continued. “Do you think I could borrow yours to go home and start packing?”

“Of course,” I
said. “And Michael and I will go pick up your car when he gets back.”

“Thank you,” she
said again.

“You don’t have to
keep thanking me,” I replied. “I can help you pack.”

“No,” she said. “I
just kind of feel like being alone.”

“I’m not so sure
that’s a good idea.”

“Please, I have to
do this my way. I’ll be okay. It just takes time, right?” Maryanne forced a
half smile, trying to put on a brave face for me.

“Okay,” I said,
“but I’ll be home later with your car. We can stay there or come back to
Michael’s place. He really doesn’t mind.”

“I know, but I’ll
sleep better in my own bed,” Maryanne replied.

I hugged her again
and watched her drive off in my car, hoping I hadn’t made a terrible decision
by not insisting she couldn’t be alone.

Maryanne texted me
when she got back to let me know she’d arrived home safely; I continued to
check on her all afternoon. She seemed to be doing okay; at least she was
holding her own.

I had finally
started to relax a little bit when Michael got home. “How’s Maryanne?” he
immediately asked. “Still sleeping?”

“No, she went home
to pack.” I explained Maryanne’s plans to Michael.

“Maybe it really
will do her good to get away,” Michael suggested. He touched my face. “Don’t
look so sad. She’ll be back.”

“You really think
so?” I asked.

“Maryanne is
strong, and she’s got
you
to come back to. Death makes people do strange
things. Just give her space, let her heal.”

“You’re probably
right,” I agreed. “I can still text her and call her, and when she feels up to
visitors we could take a weekend trip and go see her?”

“Sounds like a
plan.” Michael paused. “Think you can spare a half hour before we get
Maryanne’s car?” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think I can wait one minute
longer to fuck you.”

It was all of the
encouragement I needed. I practically tackled Michael onto the couch. Laughing,
we pulled off each other’s clothing in record time, surrendering to the
delicious feeling of our intertwined bodies.

The next few weeks
passed by quickly. Maryanne left with her mother, promising to stay in touch.
And so far, she had been true to her word. We talked or texted every few days,
and a couple of weeks after being back home she got a part-time job waiting
tables.

I was relieved
that Maryanne was adjusting, even though it was forced, to living without
Damon. I still felt guilty, but as MA started seeming more and more like her
old self, some of the guilt started to fade.

Damon’s autopsy
had come back and the official cause of death was heart failure. It was
explained away as an undiagnosed heart condition. I would never know if my
mother was responsible, and truthfully, I didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter
how she chose to live her life; I had to focus on myself. And I knew that with
Michael in the picture I could never become a true dark angel.

I celebrated my
twenty-first birthday two months after Maryanne left. It was bittersweet, not
having my best friend there for the event. But Michael, in his typical style,
took me to a posh restaurant, got me flowers – which he sent to work, now
that our relationship was completely out in the open – and gave me a
beautiful pearl necklace that matched my earrings and ring.

Shortly after
that, he celebrated his thirtieth birthday, and although I couldn’t shower him
with gifts, I gave him presents in other ways…

When Michael asked
me to move in with him, I readily agreed. Life fell into an easy, happy
routine, where all of our free time was spent together.

Finally, for the
first time in my life, I truly knew that I had found happiness with Michael,
and that nothing could ruin it.

Not long now
,
he thought.

It had taken
careful planning, careful preparation; he didn’t usually have so much patience,
but this was a one-shot deal. He couldn’t fuck it up.

After Sabrina’s
visit, he knew that he had to abandon his original plan for Lana. Sabrina
hadn’t minced words. Lana’s heart belonged to someone, and it wasn’t him.

He had pretended
to go along with her demands, to back down, but this didn’t change the end
result at all; no, rather, it just altered the course a bit.

Because Damon
Winters was determined to either have Lana Luna to himself or to die trying. He
laughed, picturing the astonishment Maryanne must have felt when she found the
body. She was a nice girl, and he didn’t
want
to hurt her; she was just
an unfortunate casualty of war.

It had been easy,
really, for Damon to fake his own death.

He hadn’t revealed
the extent of his powers to Lana; he had planned to do so, after they left
together, once he knew for sure that he could trust her. But when Sabrina said
Lana would always love that stupid doctor and would rather run away by herself
than be with him, the words had reverberated with Damon.

His immediate goal
had been to get rid of the pesky mother, but then Damon got to thinking. Even
if Lana left with him and didn’t try to disappear on her own, she’d never be
truly
happy, forever pining over her ex-boyfriend.

As soon as Sabrina
was gone from his apartment, he had reported her whereabouts to the demons
looking for her. With any luck, she was locked away in Hell, where she
belonged, being tortured for eternity.

It served her
right, really, for meddling in her daughter’s affairs.

When questioned by
the demons about The Dark Moon, Damon had shrugged. “Your guess is as good as
mine. I got a lead on Sabrina so I chased her down to collect the reward. She
wouldn’t tell me anything about The Dark Moon. Maybe once you catch her you’ll
have better luck,” he’d said. But he knew Sabrina would never crack. She would
sacrifice everything – even her own life – for Lana.

It still made his
skin crawl, thinking about Michael and Lana together. He had no idea what she
saw in that dickhead. It was painfully obvious that Damon and Lana were meant
to be together, not Michael and Lana.

It infuriated
Damon that she was living with him now, but he tried to stay calm by reminding
himself that their honeymoon would be over very soon.

After Sabrina’s
visit, Damon had acted fast. He got a body from the morgue and did a spell to transform
the corpse into an exact replica of his own living, breathing body. He knew how
these things worked. The medical examiner would cut the body up, attempt to
find a reason for the death, and finally come back with some lame explanation
like heart failure.

The first part of
his plan went off without a hitch. Maryanne even left town.
An added bonus
,
he thought. He wouldn’t have to worry about eve seeing her again.

The second part of
the plan wasn’t quite so simple. Oh, he had most of the stuff for the spell ready.
But that blond – Michael’s ex – he’d seen her at the bar with
Maryanne once – kept lurking around outside Michael’s apartment. Which is
the exact same thing Damon was doing. And there definitely wasn’t room for two
lurkers.

So he had taken
care of her yesterday, the old fashioned way. Damon didn’t like getting his
hands dirty, but spells could be tricky, ingredients hard to come by. During a
quick search of the girl’s apartment, he’d found a myriad of pills prescribed
to one Miss Abigail Farmington. She had a sleep aid, antidepressant, antianxiety,
muscle relaxers, ADHD medication. Too many of any one of those pills could have
detrimental results.

Damon had
dissolved a lethal combination into her diet water drinks, hoping that the
artificial chemicals and color would mask the taste. It had worked like a
charm. Not one to leave behind evidence, he’d removed the remaining poisoned
bottles, but left behind the body for someone else to find.

With Abigail out
of the picture, he could enact the final – and most important –
part of his plan.

Kill Michael
Reynolds and put Lana under a love spell – his love spell.

“We’ll be reunited
soon, my love,” he whispered, picturing Lana’s beautiful smiling face, her hair
flowing in the wind as she ran towards him, falling into his open arms like a
giddy schoolgirl.

Yes, after
tomorrow, Lana Luna would belong to him for eternity.