Moon Shadow (Vampire for Hire Book 11) by J.R. Rain Read Free Book Online

strength was a fluke. His strength was supernatural. The fights would never, ever, be fair and, worst-case scenario, our family secret might just get out.
    It wouldn’t take much to give Jacky a subtle suggestion. But I respected him too much for that, and maybe, just maybe, he deserved some real answers, even if he never asked the questions.
    I reached across Jacky’s desk and picked up a letter opener. Now, you don’t see those too often these days, but guys like Jacky still had them on their desks, and his was shaped like a miniature version of King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur. In fact, it was even embedded in a mini-boulder. It came out easy enough. Maybe I was going to be the next king of England?
    “What are you doing, Sam?”
    For an answer, I placed my open left hand on his desk, palm up. There was the smallest of chances that the metal was made of silver, but I doubted it. Steel, I was certain. Well, I would just take that chance. I dragged the dullish tip of the mini-sword over my palm, deep enough to open the skin and for it to hurt. But I kept dragging, even as Jacky stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair and showing flashes of his old brilliance. He swiped my hand, knocking the mini-sword out of it, and flinging it across the room, along with some of my blood.
    That I got some perverse pleasure out of seeing my own blood was enough to alarm me, and enough to awaken the bitch inside me. I literally felt her clawing her way up through the darkness, up, up...
    Yesss...
    Relax, you bitch, I thought. This is just a demonstration.
    Still, demonstration or not, she liked the sight of blood, the feeling of pain—all of which seemed to give her subtle strength, encouragement, and a reason for hope. I never, ever wanted her to hope .
    Suddenly, I had the very briefest of flashes of what it would be like to be trapped inside of me... forever. It would be hell. Well, not entirely. I was, after all, kinda fun. Not to mention, I didn’t ask for this... she had brought this upon herself. And just as she receded back into the background, I heard the faintest wisps of what I was certain were her thoughts: I am not evil...
    I nearly snorted, but I didn’t have time for her. Not with Jacky standing over me, mouth hanging open, both hands holding his little chest, a look of anguish on his face.
    “Why would you do that, Sam? Why?”
    “It’s okay, Jacky.”
    “Sam, my heart. I don’t feel so good.”
    “Sit down, Jacky. Sit down and watch.”
    “Sam, we need to get you to the hospit—”
    But he stopped talking—and for good reason. The wound in my hand was moving. Unlike special effects in Hollywood, where we watch, say, the Wolverine’s many wounds seal up magically and seamlessly, my own fast-healing wounds are a bit more dramatic. Before our very eyes, the skin in my hand pulsed and moved like a living thing, as tendrils of skin reached out from each edge of the wound to meet in the middle and form a thin, crusty, strange, reddish layer of skin. The reddish skin soon formed a thick, pulsating scar before our very eyes. I knew from experience such scars would take a few days to completely disappear. But, for now, the wound was healed.
    Meanwhile, Jacky held his chest—which worried me—and stared down at my hand. Sweat had appeared all along his high forehead, beading in some places and dripping in others. The skin along his cheeks and neck and the backs of his hands was splotchy and getting splotchier by the second.
    “Sam, I don’t feel too good.”
    “Deep breaths, Jacky. You’re going to be fine.” Indeed, his aura suggested he was going to be fine, although his heart center was pulsating at a faster rate. No, Jacky didn’t have a heart problem; indeed, I’d noticed for quite some time now the dark spot in his aura where his liver was located.
    That’s what’s going to kill him, I thought. Someday.
    “I don’t understand what I just saw, Sam.”
    “Sometimes, I don’t either. Sit down,