Forest Moon Rising (48 page)

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Authors: P. R. Frost

BOOK: Forest Moon Rising
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“And I should go see about slaying one.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
In short and choppy sentences I related the latest developments. “Pete’s desperate, Gollum. He’s lost three of his children, his ability to demand demon protection on his pot-growing minions, and his hat. That’s a lot of power gone in a short period of time. I have a feeling he’s up to something. I just don’t know what yet. I’ve got to stay close to the kids today. Even if it means dragging them out of their game to sit with me on panels.”
“Meet me back in the Green Room at five. We’ll take them out for pizza and see if they can come up with some ideas. No one knows the Nörglein better than they do.”
“Pete might have confided in, or bragged to Doug,” I continued his thought. “What are we going to do about legitimatizing him?”
“Don’t you have any ideas?” he asked.
“Fresh out. Do you have any relatives who might have orphaned him? He says he’s gay by the way.” I let my fingers brush the fine hair on the back of his head, cherishing the silky texture.
“Hmmm. Let me think a moment.”
“None of my family knows your family. Could he be your nephew sent to us because his parents can’t deal with him?” I speculated.
“Yeah.” He paused in thought. “First cousin and his wife on Dad’s side—Mom doesn’t speak to them and I haven’t seen them since Dad’s funeral—are frothing at the mouth conservatives and really hate gays. They’d throw a kid out very quickly at the first hint of alternative sexuality. I’ll do the paperwork tonight. And take him home with me. He can have Pat’s old room since she’s sleeping with Julia these days.”
One more quick kiss and we parted to our mutual con obligations. I couldn’t help smiling and barely noticed Sean’s frown when he joined me.
Chapter 45
Boring, Oregon was named for W.H. Boring, not a comment on the social climate.
M
Y NOSE TWITCHES. Something is wrong. Very, very wrong. Time to check on the kidlets. I fly ahead of Tess.
And slam into a force field. It’s as thick and as hard as anything Donovan used to emit. Maybe he still has enough gargoyle left in him to set up the same kind of barrier. But I’ve overcome the darkness in my soul so he doesn’t repel me anymore.
My nose hurts. I wiggle it to make sure it’s all in one piece.
Hey! I’ve got a new wart there. All this protecting our girls from their blood relations has its rewards. Gingko is going to think me more beautiful than evah.
Flapping my wings rapidly and awkwardly to regain my balance, I return to Tess’ shoulder, my tail around her neck and my talons clutching her cable knit sweater—a really drab cream color but it doesn’t clash with her brown slacks and gold blouse. She even put on amber beads and earrings. The pearls, as always, are next to her skin, covered with clothing. We were so busy this morning I didn’t have time to choose her outfit. How did she manage to color coordinate anything without me? Maybe some of my good taste is rubbing off on her.
Good. That will give me more time to work with our girls on their hair and wardrobe.
Anyway, we pass the spot that stopped me. Not something ahead of us keeping me out.
I fly behind us. This time I’m more cautious and see a faint shimmer in the air moving forward.
Something dangerous is keeping me close to my babe.
So I park my cute behind on top of her head, tuning my ears to every sound, tasting the air with my tongue as well as my newly adorned nose.
Sean’s musky pine aftershave gets in the way of smelling anything untoward.
I know something is wrong I just can’t figure out what it is yet.
“Tessie, babe, swing by the gaming room,” I advise. “Something isn’t right.”
As Scrap tangled my hair in his talons and yanked, I pulled out of my euphoria long enough to notice Sean scowling and Lady Lucia approaching with a fussy Sophia sucking her fingers while strapped into her stroller.
I crouched down in front of Sophia noting her tear-streaked face. “What’s the problem, little one?”
She held out her arms to me and bounced in the stroller, clearly not happy confined.
“It is time for her nap, but there is too much activity in the garden. She will not go to sleep and she will not stop crying,” Lucia complained. She sounded like any other frustrated mother. “She needs your special touch.”
“I’ll run a quick check on the girls in the gaming room,” Sean said. He didn’t look too happy at my delay. “Meet me there.”
Without asking, I removed the straps from around Sophia and picked her up, blankie and all. She instantly returned her fingers to her mouth, dropped her head on my shoulder, and fell asleep.
Her warmth and absolute trust filled me with longing. I cherished these few moments with my godchild.
Relief warred with jealousy on Lucia’s face. “You will be a wonderful godmother and mother,” she finally said. “Tomorrow morning, six o’clock Mass.” She turned and started to leave, without the stroller, diaper bag, or her daughter.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“She will awaken if you remove her from your shoulder.”
“Not now.” Carefully, I shifted Sophia back into the stroller, tucking her blankie beneath her head when it lolled sideways. She whimpered briefly but fell back to sleep. “See? Now she just needs quiet for a few moments more. Then she’ll be out cold for at least an hour.”
I pushed the stroller beside Lucia as we returned to the central garden area. Holly was on the stage testing sound equipment and tuning her harp. She wore a full long skirt made of patchwork velvet and a white velour peasant blouse embroidered with Celtic knots and St. Brigid crosses at neck and cuff. The costume was new, her absorption in her task typical.
“I heard you sing last night.” Lucia paused at the edge of the open area.
Late afternoon, more and more people congregated here, getting the parties started. Many wore costumes in preparation for the masquerade competition scheduled right after Holly’s concert.
A man and a woman, both in chain mail, helmets and surcoats, bashed each other with broadswords made of PVC pipe and foam rubber. They wove around the arena below the stage in the intricate dance of dueling.
Utter chaos. And I loved it all.
“I enjoy singing filk,” I replied to Lucia.
“You inherited your talent from your mother.”
I swallowed a moment of sadness that Mom had just found a new life as a chanteuse in Vegas when she was murdered.
“I’m not nearly as good a singer as my mother,” I replied around the lump in my throat.
“Do not be so sure of that. You have the pearls to amplify your talent. They are special pearls. The seed they are cultured around is a fragment of a goddess’ bones. No one remembers which one, something Greek I believe.”
“What!” I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Didn’t I tell you that already?” A quirk of mischief entered her eyes. Her posture flowed from frustrated and exhausted mother to Goth manipulator, dribbling secrets on her own schedule.
“No. You told me nothing about the pearls other than that I should wear them always because I’d never know when I’d need them.” I narrowed my gaze to concentrate on her. “Doreen has a similar set.”
“Yes.”
Scrap mumbled something anxious in the back of my mind. But the girls were quiet and content. I had a few moments to explore this new bit of information.
“I had forgotten how much I miss music in my everyday life,” Lucia’s voice drifted off into nostalgia.
“Tell me more about the pearls,” I demanded, before she could veer off topic in her maddening way.
“They were mine once. Given to me by my great-grandmother on my wedding day. She was one of the ones we thought were witches but really just displayed her demon origins. She said the pearls always go to the one who needs them. I left them with my son in France with his Noncoiré grandparents. They passed from generation to generation in a not very straight line until your mother received them on her wedding day from your grandmother. Strangely, she didn’t really need them. She was just a conduit to get them to you.”
“My mother’s ability to hold an audience captive with a song . . .

“Her own talent. She didn’t know how to invoke the pearls. She didn’t need to.”
“But what about the seed being a bone fragment from a goddess?”
She shrugged and started walking away. “I know nothing more about them. Have you, by chance, recorded music? I should like to take your voice back to Las Vegas.”
“I did some back up for Holly’s latest CD. Along with some other people. That’s the best I can offer. I’m not a pro and don’t pretend to be.”
“Then you will join Miss Holly in her concert tonight?”
“Maybe. If she asks.”
On the stage, Holly whipped her cell phone out of her skirt pocket. She spoke quietly for a moment and smiled. Then she closed the phone decisively and marched toward the front entrance.
I thrust the stroller back toward Lady Lucia. “I’ve got to check on my own daughters now.” Before she had a chance to offload Sophia onto me, again, before I was ready to take her full time, I made my exit, wondering who Holly had comped for her concert. She was always giving away tickets—or in this case a con membership—to some special fan. Many of them celebrities.
A hush fell over the crowd.
I swiveled my attention back to Holly’s mop of red curls by the revolving door. A tall man with flowing blond hair stepped free of the rotating glass panels.
Malcolm Levi, star of
Space Pirates of the Outer Antares.
Every woman in the lobby gasped at one of the most beautiful men in the film industry. One of the finest actors of this generation and he’d come to the con as Holly’s guest. I wondered if he was just a fan or something more. The hug she gave him could be interpreted as anything from deep gratitude to close friend to lasting lover.
Then I remembered a cryptic acknowledgement on the CD to the sweet tenor voice on a love ballad sandwiched between two rollicking fun cuts. The tenor was listed as M. Levinski—Malcolm Levi?
Oh ho. So there was something special between them.
Sixty-five cell phones appeared in hands as if by magic. Thumbs worked furiously texting and tweeting news at the speed of sound.
People all over the hotel began streaming out of side corridors and converging on the lobby to gape in wonder at the celebrity in our midst. Lucia pushed forward to the command position three feet to the left of Holly. An aggressive teen with a cell phone camera shoved her aside. The vampire crime boss of Las Vegas bared her fake fangs. The teen bared her longer fake fangs and continued taking pictures.
The railing on the mezzanine was pressed hard to hold back the eager viewers. Front and center Doreen stood tall and Junoesque with short and dumpy Starshine right beside her. I think they both drooled a bit. Malcolm Levi was as beautiful in his own way as Donovan.
Either man could set a woman’s hormones jumping.
Gollum peered over the tops of several heads at the commotion. His presentation must have ended abruptly when the room emptied upon the news.
I smiled and waved at him. He waved back.
My heart flipped with joy and my interest in Malcolm Levi faded—looks and fame aren’t everything.
The kids deserting the gaming rooms drew my attention back to my mission. I needed to check on my daughters. Our link told me only that they were a bit confused by the excitement.
They had no way of knowing about the famous man who smiled so endearingly at Holly.
“What’s going on, Tess? A whole roomful of gamers just deserted my presentation,” Donovan said emerging from a big room on my left.
“Malcolm Levi just showed up to attend Holly’s concert. Even you and Halfling Games can’t compete with the star of
Space Pirates of Outer Antares
.” Hence Holly’s new costume, reminiscent of the one worn by Malcolm Levi’s love interest in the movie. I chuckled and moved on.

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