Beneath a Waning Moon
Page 30
Silly Neville. What was he thinking to bring a gun into Tom’s house?
“I’m warning you, demon. Release my cousin. You have no power over—”
The chamber door crashed in and the gun began to swing toward it.
“Demons!” he screamed. “Unholy monsters! He was right! William was right. I’ll kill you all!”
“No,” she whispered. What if her stupid cousin shot Tom? He wasn’t allowed to do that.
Before she finished thinking it, she had knocked Neville to the ground and batted the gun away.
“No!” she screamed, and then the anger and heat and hunger took her. She pulled his neck up and clamped her mouth over the hammering pulse in his neck. Josie drank deep, shaking Neville when he shouted, batting at his head when he tried to squirm away. Her prey fell still, and she drank.
She fed until the pull of her hunger lessened, then she let Neville’s body fall and sat back, still crouched over him when she caught the edge of her reflection in her dressing mirror. She cocked her head at the strange creature she saw.
A dark curtain of hair hung around her face. Her skin was pale, but luminous in a way she’d never noticed before. Strange green eyes went wide with delight at the curious creature in the mirror. Blood dripped down her chin, and her mouth hung open as the edge of sharp white fangs sparkled in the lamplight.
She reached up and touched them with wonder, then her eyes searched for Tom, who was standing motionless in the doorway wearing nothing but his trousers and a guarded expression. She smiled when she saw he had fangs too.
“Tom,” she said, lifting a dainty, blood-covered hand. “Look at me. Aren’t I the pretty monster?”
SHE couldn’t stop touching him, but Tom didn’t seem to object. He held her on his lap, though he’d ignored her wishes and donned a shirt. Josie kept pushing things and lifting them, enamored of her new strength.
“Tom?” she asked, lifting up her arm. “If I cut myself, will I bleed?”
“Yes. Don’t cut yourself.”
“I was just curious.” She pushed his shoulder and felt it give. “I’m so strong now.”
“I know you are.” His voice was everything. It was love and relief and laughter. It was the most seductive thing she’d ever heard in her life. She was hungry for so much more than blood, but Tom said they had to wait for Murphy.
“Are you laughing at me?” She stroked the creases around his eyes. He was so handsome. Well, not to everyone, for his scars and wrinkles would never make him handsome to the fools of the world. But he was the most handsome man in existence to her.
“Maybe a little,” he said softly. “I’m so happy. Are you happy? Are you content with this?”
“Tom, listen.” She put a hand on his chest, then she took the deepest breath she could, letting it out slowly as she smiled. “Grand. I feel grand.”
“So you’re not too angry with me?” Tom asked. “For not telling you the whole of it?”
Josie laughed. “I wouldn’t have believed you! Who would believe this? I’m not sure I truly believe it yet.”
She turned when she heard the door. She tensed until she saw it was Anne and Murphy. Her eyes filled with tears and she stood, holding her arms out to Murphy. “I love you,” she said. “So much. Both of you. Though mostly I love Tom.”
Murphy embraced her, then Anne.
“We love you too,” Anne said. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry.”
“How about me?” Declan came in behind Anne. “Do you love me?”
Tom made a noise and Josie turned back to him.
“Was that a growl?” she asked. “Did you really growl?”
“Maybe.”
“Can we turn into great cats like in the book?” She tried not to bounce. “Is that why you can growl?”
“No. That’s just a story.”
Declan scoffed, “What books has she been reading?”
“You say it’s just a story,” Josie said. “But so were vampires until I became one. I’m a vampire…” She sank into the chair next to Tom. “How marvelous.”
“Boss, what are we going to do about Burke?” Declan asked Murphy while Tom stayed suspiciously silent, guarded eyes pointed at his sire.
Josie tried to stir up some guilt about her cousin, but she couldn’t seem to grab onto it properly. After all, Neville was odious. And he’d been about to shoot Tom.
“I’ll tell Beecham the truth, of a sort. The human invaded my home and was about to shoot one of my people. He won’t make a fuss. After all, it is evident from what Josie said that Beecham has been filling Burke’s head with stories. He won’t want that getting out, will he?”
“And Josie?”
“I told you, as far as the world is concerned, she’s dead. Josephine Shaw Murphy died two nights ago, and you’re going to bury her in a grave two nights hence.”
Josie gasped. “May I go? I’d love to go to my own funeral.”
The answer was a unanimous and choral “No.”
“We’re not telling Beecham then?” Declan said.
Murphy shook his head. “We can work this around to harm him. If I attack him now, we’ll lose too many people. Aggression creates enemies. I don’t need enemies, I need allies. In time, we’ll let it slip that Beecham was the one who told Neville Burke about us, leading the man here. The more conservative vampires in the city will shun him. They’ll start looking for a replacement.”
“I’m warning you, demon. Release my cousin. You have no power over—”
The chamber door crashed in and the gun began to swing toward it.
“Demons!” he screamed. “Unholy monsters! He was right! William was right. I’ll kill you all!”
“No,” she whispered. What if her stupid cousin shot Tom? He wasn’t allowed to do that.
Before she finished thinking it, she had knocked Neville to the ground and batted the gun away.
“No!” she screamed, and then the anger and heat and hunger took her. She pulled his neck up and clamped her mouth over the hammering pulse in his neck. Josie drank deep, shaking Neville when he shouted, batting at his head when he tried to squirm away. Her prey fell still, and she drank.
She fed until the pull of her hunger lessened, then she let Neville’s body fall and sat back, still crouched over him when she caught the edge of her reflection in her dressing mirror. She cocked her head at the strange creature she saw.
A dark curtain of hair hung around her face. Her skin was pale, but luminous in a way she’d never noticed before. Strange green eyes went wide with delight at the curious creature in the mirror. Blood dripped down her chin, and her mouth hung open as the edge of sharp white fangs sparkled in the lamplight.
She reached up and touched them with wonder, then her eyes searched for Tom, who was standing motionless in the doorway wearing nothing but his trousers and a guarded expression. She smiled when she saw he had fangs too.
“Tom,” she said, lifting a dainty, blood-covered hand. “Look at me. Aren’t I the pretty monster?”
SHE couldn’t stop touching him, but Tom didn’t seem to object. He held her on his lap, though he’d ignored her wishes and donned a shirt. Josie kept pushing things and lifting them, enamored of her new strength.
“Tom?” she asked, lifting up her arm. “If I cut myself, will I bleed?”
“Yes. Don’t cut yourself.”
“I was just curious.” She pushed his shoulder and felt it give. “I’m so strong now.”
“I know you are.” His voice was everything. It was love and relief and laughter. It was the most seductive thing she’d ever heard in her life. She was hungry for so much more than blood, but Tom said they had to wait for Murphy.
“Are you laughing at me?” She stroked the creases around his eyes. He was so handsome. Well, not to everyone, for his scars and wrinkles would never make him handsome to the fools of the world. But he was the most handsome man in existence to her.
“Maybe a little,” he said softly. “I’m so happy. Are you happy? Are you content with this?”
“Tom, listen.” She put a hand on his chest, then she took the deepest breath she could, letting it out slowly as she smiled. “Grand. I feel grand.”
“So you’re not too angry with me?” Tom asked. “For not telling you the whole of it?”
Josie laughed. “I wouldn’t have believed you! Who would believe this? I’m not sure I truly believe it yet.”
She turned when she heard the door. She tensed until she saw it was Anne and Murphy. Her eyes filled with tears and she stood, holding her arms out to Murphy. “I love you,” she said. “So much. Both of you. Though mostly I love Tom.”
Murphy embraced her, then Anne.
“We love you too,” Anne said. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry.”
“How about me?” Declan came in behind Anne. “Do you love me?”
Tom made a noise and Josie turned back to him.
“Was that a growl?” she asked. “Did you really growl?”
“Maybe.”
“Can we turn into great cats like in the book?” She tried not to bounce. “Is that why you can growl?”
“No. That’s just a story.”
Declan scoffed, “What books has she been reading?”
“You say it’s just a story,” Josie said. “But so were vampires until I became one. I’m a vampire…” She sank into the chair next to Tom. “How marvelous.”
“Boss, what are we going to do about Burke?” Declan asked Murphy while Tom stayed suspiciously silent, guarded eyes pointed at his sire.
Josie tried to stir up some guilt about her cousin, but she couldn’t seem to grab onto it properly. After all, Neville was odious. And he’d been about to shoot Tom.
“I’ll tell Beecham the truth, of a sort. The human invaded my home and was about to shoot one of my people. He won’t make a fuss. After all, it is evident from what Josie said that Beecham has been filling Burke’s head with stories. He won’t want that getting out, will he?”
“And Josie?”
“I told you, as far as the world is concerned, she’s dead. Josephine Shaw Murphy died two nights ago, and you’re going to bury her in a grave two nights hence.”
Josie gasped. “May I go? I’d love to go to my own funeral.”
The answer was a unanimous and choral “No.”
“We’re not telling Beecham then?” Declan said.
Murphy shook his head. “We can work this around to harm him. If I attack him now, we’ll lose too many people. Aggression creates enemies. I don’t need enemies, I need allies. In time, we’ll let it slip that Beecham was the one who told Neville Burke about us, leading the man here. The more conservative vampires in the city will shun him. They’ll start looking for a replacement.”
