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

Jacky. Good. Deep breaths. Good.”
    “Your hand,” he gasped as he sat fully in his well-worn office chair. “The cut. What did I just see?”
    It was her, I thought. You saw her in action. Not necessarily me. Any powers, any strength, any rapid-healing, and anything and everything else... was all her.
    No, I thought suddenly. That wasn’t true. According to Allison and Millicent the ghost, I had been very, very powerful in my own right. Of course, I hadn’t seen a whiff of such powers growing up. Or had I? Had I been more psychic than I was aware? Had I been more intuitive than I was aware? Had my witchy powers been growing, only to be cut off by my attack ten years ago?
    I didn’t know, and I might never know.
    Although, I had a number of people I could ask. The librarian might have some answers, but there was someone else. Someone who had been with me for all eternity. Someone who had, apparently, fallen in love with me from afar. Or maybe from up close. I was thinking of my now-fallen guardian angel, Ishmael. He would know the life trajectory I was on. He would, in fact, know more about me than anyone.
    Only problem was, I never knew where the bastard was. Was he watching me now? I knew he had taken up watching my son, who had subsequently lost his own guardian angel during those brief moments he’d been a vampire. Ishmael was a sort of surrogate angel... a job I had not asked of him.
    Jacky was finally calming down, breathing easier, although the sweat and splotches continued forming and reforming, dripping and beading and splotching, like a live-action Pollack painting.
    “Sam, please tell me that this was some sort of...” he searched for words, licked his lips, blinked hard once, twice, three times, “some sort of magic trick or something.”
    “It’s closer to the ‘something’ part, Jacky.”
    “What’s happening, Sam?”
    “To me, in general? I don’t know. What’s happening in here, in your office, to my hand, is a demonstration.”
    “A demonstration? I don’t understand, Sam.”
    He was breathing hard again. Harder than I liked hearing. I decided to give him a small suggestion. Relax, Jacky. Good. Deep breaths, calm down, down. Good.
    He took three hard, long, deep, steady breaths. Then looked at me and nodded.
    I said, “You always knew I was different, Jacky.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “A part of you, perhaps a very deep part of you, perhaps a part that you didn’t listen to, always suspected I wasn’t like anyone, ever. But you ignored that part.”
    “I did. I had to. You hit too hard. You move too fast. You punch through the goddamn body bags. Who does that?”
    “I do,” I said. “And I’m not even really trying, Jacky. I have yet to hit the body bag as hard as I can. I have yet to hit it with all my strength.”
    “What are you saying, Sam?”
    What was I saying? How should I tell him? How much could I trust him with? I suspected I could trust him with as much as I wanted to.
    “Look at my hands, Jacky,” I said and turned them over and gave him a full view of my sharpened, thick nails.
    “Oh, Sam. What’s happening?”
    I turned my hand over again for good measure, and the dark red, thick, pulsating scar was now pinker, and not so fresh-looking. It looked, if anything like a two- or three-day-old wound.
    Easy, Jacky. Good, we are friends. I won’t hurt you.
    The bitch inside me liked his uncertainty, liked his growing alarm. The bitch inside me had issues.
    I was having a different reaction, though. My little demonstration—and the growing horror on Jacky’s face—was yet another reminder of the ghoul I had become. That I would forever be. No more sugarcoating. No more pussyfooting. Jacky had been around the block, had seen things, surely. Monsters were real. I was living proof of it. And we are here, among you.
    “I’m a vampire, Jacky,” I said.
    He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Just as well.
    I continued: “Ten years ago, I was attacked by a