Moonlight Calls (Demon's Call Series Book 1)

BOOK: Moonlight Calls (Demon's Call Series Book 1)
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Moonlight Calls

(Demon’s
Call Series Book 1)

By
Kaye Draper

 

Copyright © 2013 Kaye Draper

All Rights Reserved

 

 

Help I'm alive 
My heart keeps beating like a hammer 
Hard to be soft
Tough to be tender
Come take my pulse the pace is on a runaway train
Help I'm alive 
My heart keeps beating like a hammer
 
Beating like a hammer

 

-Metric

 

Table
of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

Chapter
9

Chapter
10

Chapter
11

Chapter
12

Chapter
13

Chapter
14

Chapter
15

Chapter
16

Chapter
17

Chapter
18

Chapter
19

Chapter
20

Chapter
21

Chapter
22

Chapter
23

Chapter
24

Chapter
25

Chapter
26

Chapter
27

Chapter
28

 

Chapter 1

 I juggled the
canvas straps of my grocery bags, shifting them to one arm so I could get my
car keys out of my pocket.  The lamppost above me shed just enough light to
drive away the worst of the shadows.  Shopping after my late shift meant that I
didn’t have to deal with crowds, soccer moms, or overly cheery cashiers.  It
also meant that I was in the nearly deserted parking lot of the Super Center at
two a.m.  I decided it was best if I didn’t meet the eyes of the guy parked
next to me.  I breathed a sigh of relief when he got in his car and drove off. 
I would hate to end up as a headline on the nightly news.

My keys weren’t
in the pocket I had initially been searching, and my subsequent struggles
dislodged a shiny red apple, which hit the ground and rolled toward my car. 
“Damn it!”

Finally coming
up with my keys, I knelt to pick up the bruised fruit and stuff it back into
the grocery bag.  I froze when I noticed the echo of footsteps on the
sidewalk.  I glanced around nervously.  There were only a few cars in the
parking lot.  My own beat-up Celebrity sat alone in the dull light of the
streetlamp.

I looked back
toward the store to see a woman making her way to the parking lot with a
plastic grocery bag draped over her forearm.  She looked harmless enough; a
tall, slender blonde in a meticulous gray business suit .  She paused for a
moment to glance my way and the streetlight hit her just right.  Even from this
distance, I could see her wide, animalistic silver eyes.

My heart
thundered in my chest and my throat went dry.  Her outline looked hazy for a
moment, ringed in a very dark blue where the dim light hit her.  I blinked hard
and the halo of color wavered then disappeared.  Forcing my breathing to remain
calm, I stood and hurried to my car.  She paused for a moment, but in the five
seconds it took for me to have my seatbelt fastened, doors locked, and ignition
started she was getting into her own car- a shiny sedan parked in one of the
deeper shadows.  As far as I knew, she hadn’t done anything even remotely
threatening- certainly nothing to inspire my fear or the tingling sensation in
my chest.

I checked the
locks a third time, just to be sure, the shifted into drive.  I couldn’t always
see auras.  It was a new thing.  Along with the severe headaches, and panic
attacks.  These little incidents were becoming more and more frequent.  I would
chalk it up to being out in the parking lot after dark, but it happened in
broad daylight too.  I told myself it was just stress.  I was working too
hard.  But I was secretly afraid that I was developing some sort of mental
disorder.  However, if that was the case, why was it so intermittent?  Why was
it that I saw auras on some people, but not others?  Why was I able to interact
normally with ninety percent of the people I saw on a daily basis, while the
other ten percent left me sweating and shaking?

I took a deep
breath and shook my head to clear my thoughts.  I gripped the wheel firmly to
stop my hands from shaking. 
You are not crazy
, I told myself firmly.  A
little overworked.  A little tired.  But not crazy.  It was just my imagination
running away with me.  I forced myself to relax, to lose the tension in my
shoulders.  A nagging headache was beginning to develop behind my eyes-
probably an aftereffect of the adrenaline.  The headaches were getting worse
too.  Hey, maybe this was proof that I wasn’t going crazy.  Maybe it was just a
brain tumor. 
What a comforting thought
.

By the time I
got home, the panic I had felt in the parking lot was nothing more than a memory. 
I hurriedly put away the groceries and slipped into bed to escape a rapidly
building migraine. 

*****

I got up at the
crack of dawn and went off to the hospital, where I worked my usual inhumane
twelve-hour shift.  I bathed and dressed patients, changed soiled bedding, and
emptied catheter bags.  Just another glorious day in the life of a Certified
Nursing Assistant.  Until my favorite patient decided to kick the bucket.

No one really
knew what had happened to John before he came to us.  He swore, in his more
exciting moments, that he was attacked by a man who turned into a beast.  John
and I had built a trusting relationship over the last year or so, and he
responded well to me, though he insisted this was because of my color.  John
could see auras too, and he thought I could protect him from the monsters.  I
didn’t really
believe
in monsters.  But when John said the word, it gave
me the he-bee-jeebies all the same.

 I often
wondered what he had been like before his decent into mental illness.  When I
asked him about his former life, he just shook his head sadly at how little I
knew about the world.  I squelched the part of me that thought maybe this was
where I was headed, if I kept having panic attacks and thinking I could see
auras.

John had been declining
for a while now.  And this last week had been really rough.  Knowing my
fondness for the man, the doctors called me in near the middle of my shift. 
For once he was free from the delusions and hallucinations that usually ruled
his mind.  He was resting peacefully, his breathing growing slower, when his
eyes fluttered open one last time.

 “Listen to me…”
he whispered.  His voice was even and calm- at odds with his words. “Don’t
trust them.  They’ll find you.  And then they’ll use you.  They’ll use you and
throw you away.”

 I brushed my
hand along his cheek.  “They won’t ever hurt you again,” I said softly, forcing
my face to relax into a serene smile.  He closed his eyes and I once again took
up the duty of stroking his hand, listening for each breath until the next one
didn’t come.

I spent the rest
of my shift in a blue funk.  I’d been through all this before.  People say it
gets easier, that you get hardened to death with time.  Those people don’t know
shit.  It takes something from you.  Every time.

When I arrived
home, I paused just inside the door to toe off my sneakers and drop my bag and
keys on the floor.  I peeled off my scrub shirt, leaving on the black silk
camisole I wore underneath.  It gives me a little thrill to wear silk with my
scrubs- like I’m pushing the boundaries.  Yeah, I’m
bad
.

I flipped on the
TV and headed into the kitchen, rubbing my temples.  Today was going to be a
big one.  The headaches were always worse when I was stressed out.  I winced as
my gentle fingers sent sharp pains dancing through my head.  Maybe I should go
see the doctor about medications again.  Who knows, maybe they could find
something that would actually work this time.

 I heated up
some water and made myself a big mug of cheap instant coffee, heavy on the
cream and sugar.  Deciding I was still wallowing enough to need it, I added a
generous dollop of chocolate syrup for some poor man’s mocha.  On my budget, I
really couldn’t afford the six dollar coffee house version. 

I wandered back
to the TV.  I don’t know why I had even turned it on; all they ever report is
the bad stuff.  You never see bunnies and kittens on the nightly news, unless
they’re being abused or something.  The reporter finished talking about a fire
and moved on to even more upbeat tidings.  I glanced at the picture of a little
boy who had been kidnapped last week, while the hotline number scrolled across
the screen.  The newscaster said the boy was only eight years old and was the
latest in a rash of disappearances that had begun last month.

Gwinn is a small
town, and not prone to exciting things like disappearances.  The community was
in shock, and all kinds of wild stories were flying around.  I turned off the
TV and tossed the remote on the couch.  I just couldn’t listen to this crap
anymore; I was depressed enough already.  I sent a brief thought skyward,
hoping that someone would look out for the little boy.  Then I took my coffee
and
padded out onto the patio in my bare feet, enjoying the sensation of cool
concrete against my achy soles.  I pulled in a deep breath of the heavy night
air, letting it soothe me.  As I stood there, a chill rippled over my skin, and
I welcomed it. 

A light breeze
ruffled my hair and I took a deep breath, drinking in the cool night, and
brushing off a feeling of unease.  I hitched up a plastic patio chair and
plunked myself down with my hot cup of pity.  My house was the last one at the
back edge of the subdivision, and it butted up to a small branch of the
Escanaba River.  I’d been able to use the fifty-year-old wiring and drafty
windows to bargain on the price, but the rent was still a stretch for me.  The
spectacular view I had from inside my screened-in patio more than made up for
it.  A narrow swatch of yard swept out to giant pine trees and a hint of water
peeking past the long grasses that crowded the bank of the river.

 Usually,
sitting here in peace and quiet while I watched the sun go down was enough to
relax away any tension from a bad day.  But tonight the quiet scenery just
added to my angsty mood.  The sun was setting and the last lingering bit of
light in the sky lent long shadows to everything, making my little yard into a
world of depth and magic.  Too bad none of that magic could help John.

 I let out a
sigh, deciding I had better go inside and do something other than mope. 
Surely, there was laundry to fold or a toilet that needed scrubbing, something
mundane to distract me.  Just then, a movement caught my eye.  It brought me up
straight and sent adrenaline zinging through my body.

At first all I
saw was a large, black shape darting through the deep shadows under the pines. 
As I stood and peered intently into the darkness, a deeper shadow slowly
emerged.  The blackness was outlined in red, which made it easier to pick out a
shape.  It was the biggest freaking dog I had ever seen.  I’d never noticed
animals having auras before, but this one sure as hell did.  I blinked rapidly
a few times, hoping to get rid of the sight.  The red gradually faded until it
was no more than a slight bit of sparkle, so subtle that I couldn’t even be
sure it was really there.  The dog continued forward, ears pricked and
watchful.  Seeing it out of the sheltering shadows sent chills down my neck and
raised goose bumps over my arms.  My heart squeezed painfully in my chest,
urging me to run.

It’s body was
stocky and massive, covered in long, black hair that lifted in the breeze and
rippled as it walked.  Its front legs were set at a strange angle and thick,
almost like a bear’s.  I tried in vain to put a name to the beast- husky,
mastiff, German sheppard.  It tilted its giant head and looked at me through
moss green eyes that were more predator then curious canine.  No.  It didn’t look
like a Sheppard at all, it
looked
like a wolf.  Of course, it was
definitely crossed with something else, something larger, like a great dane…or
maybe a Clydesdale.

When the dog
began to lope up the yard toward the patio I took an involuntary step back.  I
berated myself for being such a wuss, but it wasn’t like that screen was going
to stop the wolf-horse if it decided to eat me.  I wanted to dash back inside,
but I was rooted to the spot.

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