Forest Moon Rising (53 page)

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Authors: P. R. Frost

BOOK: Forest Moon Rising
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I’m tired for her, but in better shape for all the ambrosia I ate. The food, not that awful ink tainted blood on the wrists of the bad guys. Humans don’t taste all that great at the best of times. Lightly spiced with demon makes it worse.
I’m still spitting out the acrid bile of it while Oak, Cedar, and Doug haul the bad guys off in the wooden wheel barrel to their little drug farm. Donovan helps with the heavy lifting—keeping an eye on the boys, watching for signs of Doreen in any of them.
Teams of bad guys have beaten a pretty heavy and careless path to their marijuana patch. Seems that now the dark elf is dead and his magic negated, the natural paths in the forest have opened on their own. The stupid minions trusted the Nörglein’s magic too much.
Don’t they know that super villains always either get killed at the end of the movie, or they betray and sacrifice their employees? If the minions had half an ounce of the wits they were born with, they’d have a backup plan.
Donovan pauses in the work long enough to call in a report to the police about the marijuana patch and how to find it.
The girls find Sean’s clothes in the wardrobe and pour him into them. He’s still singing, but quieter now, more maudlin and keeping closer to in tune.
I said closer, not all the way there yet.
Then the girls open both the front and back doors wide and prop them open. The air starts to clear of the heady mixture of drugs.
They’ve done this before.
Meanwhile, Tess wraps an arm around one of the tree trunk sized bedposts and concentrates on staying upright. She pretends she’s supervising. Mostly she’s just watching the others do what has to be done. They don’t need her direction anymore.
Feeling useless is preying on her energy as much as the huge expenditure of magic.
Then Gollum creeps up to her and falls to his knees. “Oh, God, Tess, I had no idea I hurt you so badly. I am so very sorry. How can you forgive me?” He hangs his head.
Tess tangles her fingers in his fine, silver gilt hair and whispers, “Because I love you.”
We returned to the con en masse. I wasn’t much interested in the crowds and party atmosphere, but Gollum convinced me I should stop in for a few moments on the way to my car, at least to catch the last of Holly’s concert. I revived a little while we trekked back through the tunnels toward civilization. The farther away I got from the drugs and the Nörglein’s lair the better I felt.
Even Sean stumbled along with us, growing more sober with each step, but still strung out.
Someone had to drive him home. Not me. Maybe Squishy and Julia could do that.
The rain had stopped by the time we emerged from the tunnels through the basement of an old department store that filled an entire block. Fitful clouds allowed a waning sliver of a moon to peek through. I glanced toward the river. A slender trail of silver snaked along the black water.
“An end and a beginning,” I whispered, reaching for Gollum’s hand. “The prophecy fulfilled.”
As we all trooped into the hotel by one of the back doors I heard Cedar speak behind me. “I’ll go with you tonight, Oak. I’ll stay a short while only. You promised that if I helped you remove Father, the forest would be mine.”
“I’ll abide by my promise,” Oak replied. He sounded very adult and honorable. “Explore the possibilities of help before you cut all ties to humans.”
Donovan stopped short and turned toward the boys. One side of his mouth tugged upward. “That’s Doreen’s boy. Oak. I know it,” he whispered to me.
“Don’t bet on it. Mr. Surly and Selfish better fits the definition of a Damiri, if you ask me,” I replied.
Donovan acted as if he didn’t hear me.
“I don’t see why we can’t all continue living in the cave as a family. Our own family,” Cedar continued to whine. “The girls are safe from Father now.”
“But are they safe from you?” Doug asked so quietly I had to strain to hear him.
Cedar shut up.
“You know I just pretended to be gay to make the dark elf mad,” Doug said on a laugh. Then he sobered. “And so I wouldn’t have to fulfill his expectations of me.” His glance lingered lovingly on his sisters. “I’d never hurt them. Ever. You should have shown more courage and creativity to defy the old bastard, Cedar.”
Lights and noise and crowds assailed my eyes and ears the moment we stepped from the quiet corridor into the lobby.
“I thought it was later,” I said, suddenly tired again. “I expected all the excitement to have died down.”
“It’s only seven-thirty. We’ve been gone about two hours,” Gollum replied. He’d kept his arm about my waist most of the trip, letting me lean on him until I had enough strength to manage on my own. He’s good about that sort of thing.
The noise that had blindsided me turned out to be applause for Holly. Seven-thirty. She’d only been singing for half an hour.
As I watched, she signaled for Malcolm Levi to join her on stage. He bounded up the three steps and took her hand in both of his. The audience went wild. I winced at the noise.
Then Holly crooned a low note filled with longing and promise. I recognized the chords she plucked from her lap harp. She sang sweetly of new love, innocent love. Malcolm picked up the chorus. Together they sang the ballad from the CD.
Haunting chords echoed but did not match the love theme from his movie. I knew Holly had composed that song. For him.
The entire audience sighed with content.
Holly had my mother’s talent. Her voice became more than a memory. She made the music a fully shared experience.
Donovan led us all toward the garden café, ordering coffee and sandwiches all around. The girls amended that to herbal tea for them.
I sank gratefully into the chair Gollum held out for me. With the special emotions of the song filling the high domed area, I found myself leaning into him, cherishing his warmth and treasuring the affection that surged between us.
Squishy and Julia with Sophia and then Doreen joined us, adding a second table to our crowded group. Sophia raised her arms to me from the confines of her high chair. She looked tired, verging on cranky, upset that her mother had left her for so long with strangers.
I brought her into my lap and let her suck her fingers while clinging to her blankie as I stroked her dark hair.
The ballad came to an end and our coffee arrived. I drank greedily. Squishy plied cup after cup into Sean. But he fell asleep with his head on crossed arms on the table halfway through the third cup. Scrap made another beer and orange juice disappear in short order.
Julia shook her head in amazement. “Pat says I have to read your book to understand this,” she said.
We all laughed a little nervously. At this rate, Scrap wouldn’t remain a secret much longer. I needed to do something about that, but my brain was too tired to know what.
“Um, Pat, where did the nickname Squishy come from?” I asked, just to have something else to think about.
“My brothers,” she replied. “Patricia became Pasquisha when they wanted to make me mad. That morphed into Squishy. It’s a useful on-line and con handle.” She shrugged and added sugar to Julia’s coffee.
“Mr. Levi and I will be available for autographs here on stage at the conclusion of the masquerade, coming up next,” Holly said into her microphone. Before the audience could react she launched into a rousing piece that nearly required rhythmic clapping and stomping feet from everyone within earshot.
“You have a way with my daughter,” Lucia said, coming up behind me.
I started, then forced my nerves back into calm order.
“She misses you,” I replied. I knew I should relinquish her to her mother one last time, but the precious weight of her against my arms felt more natural than I wanted to admit. I needed to hold on to each moment like this as long as possible. I’d never have a baby of my own. Not if I had to give it up to the Powers That Be, much as the Nörglein’s victims had their babies stolen from them.
Sophia whimpered and I stuck a bottle into her mouth. Instantly she settled.
“I have decided. You need to sign these papers now. Not tomorrow after the baptism as I planned. Now.” Lucia threw a fat manila envelope on the table in front of me.
“What is that?”
“Sign it. You may read it later.”
“No way. I know how you put traps and clauses subject to misinterpretation into legal shenanigans.” I tried to reach for the envelope but found my hands full of Sophia.
Gollum, bless him, withdrew a stack of legal size documents, several stapled together.
“This first one is the formal adoption of Sophia Maria Teresa Continelli by Teresa Louise Noncoiré,” he read, peering over his glasses at the fine print.
“Agreed,” I sighed. Tonight. In a few moments, as soon as I put my signature on that paper, she’d be mine.
Sophia popped the bottle out of her mouth and fussed.
I jammed the nipple back between her teeth before her protests became a wail louder than the crowd.
“It is for the best, Tess,” Lucia said, pulling another chair up to our table. “I like my life in Las Vegas. I like midnight hours and Goth parties. I like the taste of blood. That is no way to raise a child. She has never tasted blood. She has never tasted meat. I want a real family for her. You are the closest I have to a relative. I want you to raise my daughter and never tell her about who and what I am until I deem fit.” She produced an onyx fountain pen, unscrewed the top and handed it to me. It looked an awful lot like the pens used by the Powers That Be when they needed a signature in blood. “Sign and the child is safe with you.”
I inspected the pen for traces of blood on the nib. Sure enough, a bit of rusty brown clung to the point. If I signed, with or without my own blood, Lucia was bound to keep the agreement. If she backed out or broke it in any way, her blood would boil and she’d end up facing the Powers That Be.
“Lucia, you were the one who told me, practically ordered me, to remain alone, focused and angry enough to complete the jobs the Universe hands me.”
“Si,” she sighed. “But now the Universe hands you a new task. You proved tonight that you can quell demons without violence. You can protect your children and still care for them. A new path opens for you, Warrior of the Celestial Blade.”
“We’ll see.” I nodded for Gollum to read the next clump of documents.
“This establishes a rather substantial trust fund for Sophia naming you as trustee.” He read the pages rapidly. “Fairly standard setup. Interest to be used for normal household expenses and education—including extra artistic endeavors like ballet and horseback riding. Fairly liberal wording. This one is safe to sign. If you choose.”
“If
we
choose to adopt Sophia.” Though how I could give her up at this point, I didn’t know. “What’s the last set of pages?”
“That’s the deed to a house!” Donovan proclaimed, reading upside down. “I don’t have to read the particulars to recognize the format.”
“Donovan is correct,” Lucia said, still holding the pen out. “I had to foreclose on the dwelling and repair large sections of it. That is what brought me to Portland originally.”
“Foreclose?” I asked hesitantly, wondering what the family who had lived there was doing for shelter without it.
“I took the house as collateral on a
legitimate
business loan. A trusted employee franchised certain aspects of my, um, enterprises. Unfortunately, the economic climate in Portland is different from Las Vegas. He did not succeed. I gave him a year longer than I should. Do not worry that I have evicted children. The man is single, and I suspect guilty of embezzlement. No one steals from me and goes unscathed. I have sent his accounts—both sets of them—to the DA and the IRS.”
“I know that address, Tess,” Gollum said under his breath. He swallowed heavily. “The president of my college lives on that cul de sac. The house is huge, mock Tudor brick with a three-car garage. Two acres is the standard lot in that neighborhood. This one is bigger.”
“And a guest house you can use as an office to get away from the children while you work, Tess,” Lucia prompted.
“I can’t . . . it’s too generous.”
Sophia yawned and snuggled down for a much needed nap. I held her close.
“The house is in trust for Sophia,” Lucia said. “I’m not abandoning my child.”
“Let me see those. I’ll tell you if it’s safe to sign.” Donovan grabbed the entire stack. He and Doreen bent their heads over them.
“She’s really smart about papers and stuff,” Doug said around a mouthful of a veggie and cheese sandwich. He’d taken out the ham and packed half his salad between slices of bread. The girls had done the same. No problem getting them to eat their vegetables.
I bet Doreen knew her way around legal documents if she drew up the prenuptial agreement she’d forced on Donovan. A vague memory of my husband, Dill, came to mind, of him explaining to me that while he’d pursued his doctorate in geology, his sister had gone to law school. But she hadn’t bothered to take the Bar.

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