Bound by Moonlight (20 page)

She clubbed the first one’s misshapen snout with the butt of her gun, but the next hit her hard and low, knocking her to the sidewalk. Snarling as fiercely as they were, she battled back with fists, elbows, and knees, finally connecting with a throat punch that snapped the gaping jaws together and sent the assailant tumbling back to choke in the gutter. Before she could roll into
a more effective position, another slammed into her, flinging her head back against the stuccoed wall. The night exploded with lights, then went alarmingly dark.

Hot pants of breath seared her throat and Cee Cee tensed, expecting a fatal slash of teeth.

Instead, her attacker suddenly backed away. As she struggled to sit up with the wall at her back, her hand groping her gun, she could hear a shuffling of footsteps, then the sound of them running away.

“Are you okay?” A woman’s voice, shaky and slightly breathless.

Blinking to clear her vision, Cee Cee saw a large, blurry hand reaching for her and instinctively struck out at the massive shape looming over her.

Her blow was easily blocked, and LaRoche’s voice said, “Easy, Charlotte. They’re gone.” His concerned features filled her foggy vision. “Someone sent out a damn strong alarm just as I heard your shot, but this brave young lady managed to scare them off just before I got here.”

The woman laughed huskily. “I don’t think my can of mace was all that threatening. They probably heard you coming.”

The instant Cee Cee struggled to stand, Jacques’s big palms scooped under her elbows to assist her. She wobbled for a moment, then focused on the woman.

She was as tall as Cee Cee. Wearing a hunter’s orange vest over a black hooded sweatshirt and skinny jeans, she appeared slender as a boy. Black hair was pulled back in a heavy braid, revealing strong, angular features bare of any makeup. Piercing blue eyes, a hawkish nose, and the wide mouth were too bold for
her to be attractive, until she smiled. She beamed with genuine pleasure as she passed Cee Cee her gun, holding the trigger guard between two fingers.

“I think this is yours. Quite an exciting welcome for a newcomer to your city.”

“And well timed, for my sake.” Cee Cee extended her hand. “Charlotte Caissie.”

“Monica Fraser.” Her grip was firm and as aggressive as her stare as she assessed the big bar owner. “And you are?”

“Jacques LaRoche, grateful friend of Detective Caissie’s, and future employer if you’re looking for a job.”

Cee Cee’s surprise at his offer eased when she noticed the hum of recognition between the two of them. Her new acquaintance was a Shifter, too. Could she have been the one to extend that warning push?

“I’ll consider that after I’ve had a chance to unpack. I’m staying at a friend’s condo in the Quarter House. I was looking for an all-night grocery to pick up a few things when I got turned around. Maybe you can point me in the right direction.”

Jacques responded with a gallant, “There’s one on Royal. I’ll walk you there myself once I make sure my friend is all right.” His flirtatious manner dropped away when he looked to Cee Cee. “Did you get a look at them?”

“Fangs and claws and work clothes. Not much to go on. Winged one of them in the left shoulder.” Her voice lowered. “I think they followed me out of your place.”

Their new friend looked nervously between them.
“Should you notify someone? I mean, you were attacked by . . . by . . .”

“I know what they were. And I won’t be writing up any report. I’ll leave that to Jacques. It’s his jurisdiction, not mine.”

Monica looked relieved and curious.

“Charlotte is an NOPD detective and an Upright,” Jacques explained. “But we don’t hold that against her.”

“Okay.” She smiled, even more confused.

“Four Shifters come after me right after Amber gives me four names?” Cee Cee mused. “A coincidence, Jacques?”

“I’ll find out,” he assured her. When she put her hand to the back of her head and grimaced, he grew concerned. “You want me to call Max to come get you?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m fine. No need to worry him until we find out what’s behind it. It might have been a random robbery.”
Or not
. They’d shared secrets before to protect the same man. “Let me know if anything interesting turns up. I’m parked right there. Thanks again,” she added, turning to the stranger.

Monica nodded. “Glad to have happened by.”

But as Cee Cee climbed into her car, she began wondering about the coincidence. Had Monica Fraser just
happened
by, or was something more calculated behind her appearance?

Geez, when had everyone become suspect? Couldn’t someone have done a good deed for no other reason than it was the right thing to do?

She put the car in gear. It would be nice to think so—but she wasn’t an optimist.

__________

U
NDER THE COOL
light of the moon, Max took a slow breath and a step of faith.

His foot touched the glassy surface of the garden’s reflective pool. Focusing inward, he centered himself in the mental plane his father had shown him. He closed his eyes, imagining his physical form weightless, like a whisper of evening breeze drifting across the water without a ripple.

He breathed in, filling his lungs with air that could hold him aloft, letting him float free like an untethered balloon. The tread of his high-tops never broke the surface as he advanced, not thinking of the steps themselves, but of the destination. No substance, no weight, drifting lightly.

The sound of a door closing in the house behind him caught Max’s attention, his concentration faltered, and he dropped. Water flooded into his shoes as he stood knee deep in the middle of the pool.

He slogged back to the retaining wall and climbed out. Progress, but not as quick as it needed to be. He took a savage breath of frustration, hearing his father’s warning:
“You don’t know who they are. You’ll never know what to look for. You’ll never know when they’re coming. Let me do what I can to save you.”

Too late for that now. He had no one to depend upon but himself. But he knew where to find the answers, thanks to his father.

“Where am I?”
he’d asked.

“Wherever you want to be. Focus. You can control it. Let down the walls around your mind so your spirit can fly.”

“How far can I go?”

“Find out.”

Max studied the water’s smooth surface once again. Time to find out.

T
HE SINGLE-STORY MOTOR
court was stripped of amenities, with none of downtown’s slickness or the Quarter’s charm. Their neighbors came and went, often several times nightly, and no one paid attention to the flashy redhead and her greasy boyfriend who pulled in near dawn and slept all day.

It was one
A.M.
, and the hourly clientele were slipping in and out with furtive regularity. Her wig in place and head tipped down so it swung forward to shield her features, Cee Cee assessed those she passed and saw no threat to their operation. Just sad, lonely people trying to steal away from their sad, lonely lives for a moment of artificial happiness.

The door to one of the rooms opened, revealing a slouching figure with a cold cigarette.

“Got a light?”

Stan Schoenbaum looked like shit.

“Sorry. Trying to quit.”

“Where’s your better half?” he asked, glancing behind her down the empty walk.

“Looking for some action on his own. Was hoping to get a little privacy for the next half hour or so.”

Stan cocked a brow as she asked him to shut down the surveillance in her room. It was strictly against procedure, but he shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for needing a bit a downtime between one and two.”

He was giving her an hour.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you out with the light. Maybe you could do
me
a favor.” She cocked her hip and shoulders into a suggestive pose in case anyone was watching, then asked softly, “Run some IDs for me.”

His tired eyes brightened. “Something to do with the case?”

“Don’t know yet.” She repeated the names Amber had given her, and at the last moment added Monica Fraser’s to it. “That info is for my eyes only.”

“Introduce me to your friend.”

Cee Cee took a startled step back at the unfamiliar voice. Schoenbaum jerked his head toward the other man. “Silas MacCreedy, Charlotte Caissie. Silas’s from up Baton Rouge way. One of our vics, Shawnee Potts, has family up there. He was working the missing person case and asked if he could step in with us.”

Cee Cee gave their fellow cop a shrewd once-over. He was a good-sized guy with close-cropped brown hair, steely eyes, and burly good looks. “We could use the company,” she told him with a nod of greeting.

“I won’t get in your way,” he answered, knowing how territorial districts were about their cases.

Stan’s shoulders heaved. “I don’t care if we invite snake handlers and Mormons in, as long as the job gets done.”

“That’s the plan,” Cee Cee agreed, and told them good night.

Breathing a sigh, she locked herself into her shabby room, kicked off her shoes, tossed the fright wig onto the dresser, then flopped down on the bed. Her head ached meanly, foiling her plan to close her eyes and
shut down for a minute or two first. Finally, she took out her phone.

Two rings and an answer.

“Heya.”

“Hi. I’m calling you.”

“I noticed.”

In the silence that ticked by, all the things she wanted to say tumbled about her heart.
I love you. I miss you. I want you. I wish you were here.

“You wanted to know about the killer,” he said matter-of-factly. “He was there in your club tonight. He’s been there before. Not out front as a customer, but behind the stage, behind the scenes. Someone who knows their way around. Someone the people who work there are used to seeing.

“I didn’t pick up any trace of that scent at Blutafino’s home,” he continued. “He’s not your man. But that doesn’t mean he’s not involved. If you get close to Manny, you’ll get close to who you’re looking for.”

She’d shifted automatically into professional mode, her mind spinning ahead toward her next move. “What else?”

“I wish I could tell you more, Detective. It was good to hear your voice.”

He was saying good-bye. “Max, are you still angry? You understand why you have to stay away. It would destroy my cover if anyone put the two of us together. That would be bad for both of us.”

“I’m not stupid, Detective. I got that. Was there anything else you needed to tell me?”

Over the phone wasn’t how she wanted to ask
about his parentage, or her strange new abilities. “I miss you, baby.”

A beat of silence. “Stay safe, Detective.”

M
AX HUNG UP
the phone, and sat pensively in the darkness of Jimmy’s study. Desire and anger warred for a moment, but practicality won out.

When she made up her mind to trust her heart in terms of their relationship, he’d be there for her. He couldn’t force her choices before she was ready, so he’d wait. But, when it came to her safety, he couldn’t stand aside. And wouldn’t.

He settled back into the big leather chair that was the throne from which Jimmy Legere had run his empire, from which he was now doing the same. He picked up the phone again and called Petitjohn. Closing his mind to her plea for independence, he said, “Set it up for me T-John.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Time to let Carmen know I’m ripe for courting.”

B
ABINEAU SHOWED UP
with beer, and they sat in silence until the first two were almost gone. It took that long for their recent tension to ease into the remembered pattern of trust. It started where it always did, with work.

Charlotte told him what Max had said about their killer being someone familiar, not a stranger unknown to the vics.

“I think we’re closer than we realize,” she concluded, sipping her second bottle. Enthusiasm for her work filled her up, making her whole. “Now we need a way to nudge up against Manny Blu, but I’m about fifteen years past my prime where he’s concerned.”

“The waitress I plied with over easy on toast said that Blu makes his working girls get regular checks at a local clinic to make sure they’re clean. Judith Farraday— Dr. Judy, they call her—is something of a saint, a psychologist, mother, and best pal to them. She’d be a good source to tap. She’d know the vics, might have some insight into the latest disappearance.” Babineau added somberly, “Word has it, Kelly had an appointment with her the day she went missing. She never kept it.”

“I feel an STD coming on.”

“Be careful there. I hear she’s a smart cookie.
Worked clinics in some pretty hot zones, with a nobullshit bedside manner.” A pause. “And speaking of bedside manner, what’s with you and Savoie? Surprised the hell out of me to see him show up tonight. Is he going to make trouble?”

“No, he won’t. I’ll handle Max.”

“Savoie isn’t exactly an easy-to-handle guy.”

“Max is my business—just like what’s with you and Tina is your business.”

He gave her a cool look, then nodded. “Fair enough. Off-limits.”

“Has to be while this case is ongoing. Gotta stay focused, and we can’t if all the personal stuff is dragging on us.”

“Even if she and Oscar are living out at his house with him?”

That hit her like a sucker punch. Why hadn’t Max said anything? But then, she hadn’t exactly given him any time to discuss current events, had she?

“They’ll be safe there. Maybe it’s for the best. It’s all about the job, Babs. It has to be.”

The words helped her build that impenetrable wall back up around her. All she could do was hope it would hold strong and firm for the days or weeks it would take to bring the killer to justice.

That would give her time to think of what to say when the gates on River Road opened to welcome her back home. Maybe the words would just come to her when she saw Max again. If he wanted some groveling, okay, she could bend a bit. If he needed some TLC, she’d be all over that in a second.