Chapter Twenty-Seven
Shadow
The thick blackness in the room behind the panels tells me the sun has left the sky. There is only dead silence down here.
I can remember the sounds humans make when they are sleeping. The sighs and soft snores. The squeak of reindeer skin as bodies move.
My mother would make cooing noises as she nursed another child in her bed. How cool the summer air would be under the roof of our turf hut, what we call a gammer. The snuffles and champing made by our reindeer herd outside.
Collecting lakka berries in the fall. Spruce needle tea. Watching our shaman dance around the campfire mumbling his magic chant as he beats his reindeer hide drum.
My tribe is gone now, nothing more than dust in the wind.
Nothing more than memories.
I never thought that I would grow tired of death and blood, but I am.
Something tells me that Landslide has reached its limit. Modern life is starting to creep in. We’re not dealing with gullible homesteaders anymore.
The local folk can handle living an Amish-level existence, but not when their women are weak or dying.
I blame myself. I should have been able to see the long-term outcome of letting the crew feast so close to home for so long. All it did was force the residents to send their daughters away.
Mickey Farmer was chill when we visited him last night. Told us the entire family was in shock because Linda had been the picture of health when she came to Landslide to hand over the keys to Luna.
He had added that his father had grabbed a shotgun and gone out. We ended the conversation there, each man coming to his own conclusion.
Fortunately for us, shotguns blasting on Landslide are a regular occurrence. No one has connected the one made yesterday with Jake’s disappearance.
Mickey also told us that blood samples had been taken from Linda and were to be sent to the CDC in the States and the PDSA in Canada.
That kinda makes my pathetic attempt at inviting a scientist to come and test the water look real lame.
This tells me that nosy fucking authority figures are going to come sniffing around Landslide in the future.
Fuck Wulf! He did this on purpose! I want to rip that spoiled fucking man-child to pieces.
This business of running Landslide is turning sour. I am a warrior, a Midnight Rider, not some fucking admin bureaucratic diplomat.
Fuck that shit.
I am ready.
I never thought I would admit this to myself, but it is the truth.
I want to give up blood-sucking and stick to fluids for the rest of time. And while I don’t expect the remaining crew to reach the same conclusion—blood and sex is so firmly ingrained into our dark existence, after all—they must follow my lead or hit the road.
Luna must be protected from any hint of blame if Linda’s and Jake’s deaths are ever linked. And I have a nasty suspicion that a scandal of tsunami-like proportions is going to hit Landslide if women keep dying.
Time for me to reach an agreement with the half-breed. There was no sign of him anywhere last night. Here’s hoping he has left for the mainland to feed.
Fuck! Jake Farmer’s body is probably still in the creek! Mickey thinks his old man has gone on a walkabout to calm down. How long can I keep up this mutherfucking juggling and lie spinning?
“What’s up, brother?” Theron’s voice. “You’re growling and gnashing your teeth so hard it woke me up.”
Sliding back the panel, I’m out of the hidden room and gasping like an escaped convict.
The smell of brewing hits me. While the MC was hiding from the sun, my sweetheart was preparing fluids for us.
Her sacrifice affects me acutely. In only a matter of days, Luna has turned my life upside down.
I can’t wait to see her again.
The other four Riders come and join me.
“That girl has got it going on.” Rundas grunts with approval at the smell of fluids. “She’s a keeper, that’s for sure.”
And that’s where the conversation ends. Tempest was the only female who ever knew the truth about us, and she was just a friend.
None of us have ever bonded with a woman before. And I would not wish this feeling on my worst enemy.
It’s deeply unsettling, to be so enrapt by a woman. I can’t stand the thought of her being with anyone else. My fangs emerge whenever I contemplate a future without Luna by my side.
Jaecar speaks first.
“Maybe we should reassess our situation in light of recent events. We should start preparing for the inquiry that is likely to be made.”
Artim butts in. “This is what Wulf always wanted, you realize. That little freak is toxic. He will not rest until the coven has disbanded.”
Theron interjects. “Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way? We should never have allowed Ifan to split. Each of us was raised in a loving community and given a purpose from the time we received our gátki after thirteen winters. Wulf never had that.”
“I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Ifan how to run his life. Would you?” Rundas sounds thoughtful. “Dude’s a nomad, for fuck’s sake. Cutting loose was always in the cards.”
It dawns on me that Ifan might have never loved Tempest the way she deserved. Sure, he stuck around long enough to feed on her delicious free-range blood, but he couldn’t have been fixed on Tempest the way I am enthralled with Luna—because he left.
Time for me to step up.
“We’re going to need a modern pair of eyes to look at this problem for us. I think there’s a way out of our current dilemma that our ancient eyes cannot see.”
“Your woman is neither a witch nor a scientist, Prez,” Rundas grumbles, “and we are going to need a whole lotta both if we are to find a way to stop them investigating the Farmer deaths.”
I have wasted too much time debating this. Luna’s beguiling hazel eyes seem to beckon to me from across the forest.
Sure, I want to fuck her again, but this time there will be no sucking. Her blood is far too precious now that she will be brewing fluids with it.
“Luna and me, it was never about the blood, you know.” I can’t believe I am saying this out loud for the other Riders to hear.
“In the beginning, I thought my attraction to her was so we could get the distillery and the inn going again… but no. I… she… damn it!” I can’t find the words to describe the feeling.
Artim sniggers. “Say no more, brother. We saw how things were between the two of you when you passed up the opportunity to feed on her after you were injured.”
Jaecar adds. “Putting a woman first. It’s a sign, man.”
Edging towards the trapdoor, I talk over my shoulder. “Go see Mickey. Set up a search party for Jake’s body. And then offer the family gold as compensation. But only under the condition that they don’t report the death. Or comply with the authorities.”
It feels so good to be sitting astride my Harley again. Luna and I can spend the night together—a little prelude to how it will be in the future. I will watch her prepare supper as we chat about the brewing process. We can discuss how to normalize life on Landslide so that we can be together.
And it is definitely time for me to move out of the commune and into my own space. Luna will like that.
Gunning the engine, I check the fuel gauge and oil level as a reflex. Shit, fuel’s low. I need cash.
Muohta comes jogging from behind the clubhouse. He barks at me.
“This won’t take long, buddy.”
Leaving the engine turning over, I duck back inside as quick as a river running.
The trapdoor is still shut, but this doesn’t stop me from overhearing what the Riders are saying above me.
“Should I be the one to tell him? Or do you want to?” Rundas. My trusted and loyal veep. What the fuck?
“Hellfire, brother, you do it.” Artim. “And if you want my opinion, that’s the reason why Ifan bounced. Okay, it was a little bit to do with Tempest’s defiance at protecting that half-breed brat from vengeance, but that aging process is a bitch.”
Theron interjects. “Tempest was still fine when Ifan was around. But maybe he was making sure to stay ahead of the curve. No one wants an old lady, old lady, y’all know what I’m sayin’?”
Roars of laughter at Theron’s joke.
I have to bite my lower lip with my fangs to force myself to stay quiet.
Grabbing the cash we keep in an old ceramic bowl, I leave.
Mu is standing next to the growling Harley. The dog is mewling up at the night sky. I haven’t seen the dog doing that since Tempest left.
Kneeling down in front of Muohta, I grip the dog’s head so he is forced to look at me. Silently, the Samoyed sends me his message.
With shaking fingers, I reach for the note under his collar.
Wulf is here. Come quick.
I can smell her fear and distress rising off the papery cloth.
At this moment, I want to lift my face to the night sky and howl like a hound. I want to blast into the forest and punch down trees. Smash rocks. Pummel steel. Turn the water red with the blood of my enemies.
For the first time in my long life, my immortality feels like a heavy and cursed burden. If Luna is no more, then what is the point of my never ending chain of sunsets and sunrises?
I am deep in thought as the darkness controls my hope for an infinitesimal beat.
There will never be another Luna. I had my chance, and I fucked up.
The roar of anger and anguish builds up inside me as my inertness fades.
Running faster than the wind, I head for that white house on the hill. All the inhabitants of Landslide will hear as I blast past is the clap of thunder with no lightning going before it. A sonic boom.
My rage reduces me to a sound, a vaguely unsettling feeling, an ill omen.
Standing in Luna’s living room, I glare and growl into the emptiness. Sniffing, I detect their faint aroma.
Luna and Wulf spent some time together in here. A lot of time. He sat on the chair, and she was on the couch.
What did he say to her?
At least there is no scent of fear or death. Is it too late to hope he had a polite conversation with her before leaving?
Closing my eyes, I allow my senses to guide me. The attic.
Pulling at the knotted cord gives me access to the attic above the second floor. I climb the ladder that folds down and crouch on the rafters.
He was here. Maybe he has always been here. Like a spider weaving his web of deceit and lies, my skin crawls when I think about Wulf watching Luna and me interact.
And yet it is sad, too. No crib or mattress. No cherished items or signs of companionship. Wulf lurked up here all alone, only venturing out to feast on female blood.
Maybe he is more of a vampire than any of the Seven.
There is no time to waste. Opening the window, I crawl over the wet slate roof tiles like a black-leather-clad reptile. Pausing, I wait for Luna’s vibrations to reach me.
Nothing. Jumping, landing in a crouch, I slither to the marina.
The downpour of rain increases, but I pay it no mind. No amount of water could ever wash away the traces of Luna I see all around me on Landslide.
The boats creak and bob as they bump against the rudimentary harbor promenade. There is Tempest’s boat: Prodigal.
Typical Tempest. She always preferred the prodigal son to the well-behaved one. Live fast, play hard, die young.
Stepping onto the boat, I walk down to the cabin in the hull.
It’s a snug room. Bunk bed with storage underneath it on one side. Table with two chairs on the other. Stove and fridge against the prow.
Wulf sits in the chair by the table, facing the door. His white hands lie resting on the table surface like two pale spiders.
I rush him like a bull, headbutting his face as I haul him over the table by the front of his shirt. My fists rain down blows on his laughing face but leave no trace. Dragging him with me, I reach for a knife hanging by the stove.
Drooling blood when he speaks, Wulf grins. “If you kill me, you will never find out where she is. Think about that before you go all ballistic, Shadow. Your lovely little Luna left to starve—or suffocate. Choice is yours.”
Dropping him like a stone, I kick his sorry carcass and spit on him.
“Not much of a choice, Wulf Ifan’s son.”
He’s laughing, really enjoying this.
“It’s the only one you’re going to get. Now, turn around and fuck off back to your crappy den—to your pathetic motorcycle club with its anachronistic bunch of losers.”
If Luna’s life is on the line, I have no trouble backing off. I would rather hack out my heart than have anything bad happen to her.
This situation—this is all my fault. If I were an unselfish lover, I would have told her to leave a week ago. Sacrifice my growing dependence on her cheeky smiles and breathy laughter for her own good.
But I was greedy. I wanted to have my Luna and eat her, too.
“For how long must I wait? I don’t have an unlimited supply of patience, Wulf.”
Waving his hand to dismiss me, he sneers. “Three days. Look inside your heart, Shadow. You know she’s still alive. But if you kill me, you kill Luna, too.”
I catch sight of myself in the mirror as I leave. All traces of humanity have left me. I am a ghoul with bleeding mouth and hands from where I have bitten and clenched the fluid out of my flesh. That is how hard it is for me to hold back my anger.