Under the Moon (Goddesses Rising) Read online

  “Let’s go find out.” Nick and Sam opened their doors. Quinn climbed out, then tried to push Sam back inside.

  “You can’t come in with me.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Tanda might still be freaked. She won’t want a crowd invading her home. She might not even want me.” She had never responded to Quinn’s calls or voice mails. “But you’re big and looming and that could be too scary for her.”

  Sam scowled but got back into the car. Nick slammed his door.

  “You either, Nick.”

  He braced his forearms on top of the car and dropped his head between them, then lifted it again. “We gonna do this every time, Quinn? Not to leave my sight, remember?”

  “I know.” She didn’t want to go in alone, but she was trying to put herself in Tanda’s shoes. She’d been betrayed, and a place she felt safe had been invaded. She might not want a whole bunch of people overrunning her. “But why would he be here? He’s already taken everything he can.”

  “What about the goddess who’s already attacked us at least once?”

  “How would she know we’re here?”

  Nick shook his head. “She could have someone waiting for you in case you did come here. But it doesn’t matter. It’s my job. She’ll be okay—she’s met me before.”

  Quinn was skeptical but didn’t argue anymore.

  The doorman nodded and opened the door for them as they approached, but the security officer at the desk was less accommodating. He addressed them as soon as they walked in, giving them no choice but to approach the station. He nudged the sign-in book and lifted a telephone handset.

  “Resident?”

  “Tanda Wilcox,” Quinn told him and picked up the pen.

  “Don’t—” Nick blew out a breath when she put her name in the book. She gave him a pointed look and handed over the pen. He glared and shook his head but scribbled something under her name.

  The officer relayed their names to whomever answered his call and then told them, “You may go up. Ms. Wilcox is present.” He settled the phone onto its cradle.

  Quinn’s shoulders relaxed, and she realized how worried she’d been that Tanda would turn them away. “Which apartment, please?”

  “Twenty-two thirteen.”

  “Thank you.”

  He watched them all the way to the elevator and continued while they waited for it to arrive. Once they were inside Quinn breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You didn’t put your own name, did you?” she said. She hadn’t clearly heard the officer’s mumbled conversation with Tanda.

  “Of course not. I put Edward Halen.”

  “I don’t know how you get away with that stuff.” She tilted her head to check the numbers flashing at the top of the car.

  “It’s less obvious without the Van. You shouldn’t have signed your real name.”

  “I had to. One, it’s forgery.”

  Nick snorted.

  “Two, how would Tanda let us up if she didn’t know it was us? One of us had to give our real name. It’s not going into a database,” she tried to reassure him. “Someone might find out later that I was here, but they’re not getting a signal now.”

  “Unless the guard’s dirty and was watching for you.”

  He had an answer for everything, and each one felt more like a shackle. “I suppose that’s possible.”

  “Of course it’s possible!” Nick drove his hand through his hair, spiking it even more than usual. “You make it damned hard to protect you.”

  Quinn’s eyelids prickled. She watched the numbers changing on the display at the top of the panel. “I’m sorry. That’s not my intent.” It wasn’t like she wasn’t afraid. Losing her power would be as bad as losing Sam or Nick. “It just feels more and more like imprisonment.”

  Nick stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  She turned to face him. “It’s never been this way. Someone else—you—dictating my every move. Going to extremes.”

  “The threat’s never been this strong.”

  She understood that, and she also understood, deep down, that not all of the way she felt was about restrictions. She had no space. Nick was always right there, both closer and further away than ever. She was letting it get to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, softly. “I don’t want to make your job harder. I just want to comfort a friend and do what I can to stop the leech from doing this to others. Those are worth the small risks.”

  The elevator dinged and slowed, putting an end to the conversation. The doors opened on a green-carpeted hallway with walls papered in textured ivory. The off-white apartment doors sported gold number plaques.

  Nick glanced at the ceiling at both ends of the corridors, noting the camera domes. “Can’t see the angles of those cameras. Might be suspicious, my hanging around out here in the hallway.”

  “We’ll see what Tanda says.” Quinn stopped in front of 2213. Nick rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall next to the door while she knocked.

  Tanda opened it immediately, her eyes warm, her smile sincere. But her appearance took Quinn aback. Her brown hair hung lank on either side of her face, which was pale except for the very dark circles around her eyes. Her extremely light blue eyes. They looked bleached, and for a second Quinn couldn’t stop looking at them.

  When she did, she realized Tanda’s shirt hung loose, though it was clear it wasn’t meant to be that way, and her jeans were cinched with a belt, bunching them around her hips. Oh, Tanda.

  “Quinn.” She stepped out into the hall and hugged her with surprising strength. “I can’t believe you came.”

  “I had to see you.” Quinn hugged her back, feeling guilty that it had taken them so long to get here, when Tanda obviously needed a friend. “I’ve been calling, but you haven’t answered. I was worried.”

  “Bastard stole my cell phone.” Tanda pulled back and caught sight of Nick. Her face lit up, and suddenly she didn’t look so haggard.

  “Nick, you scoundrel!” She tugged at his sleeve.

  “Tanda.” He hugged her, too, and Quinn stopped worrying. Tanda had obviously had enough time alone, and she knew Nick better than he’d let on.

  “Come in, both of you!” Tanda closed the door behind them, then engaged six deadbolts before leading them into the living room.

  “You always have that many locks?” Nick asked her.

  “Yeah, fat lot of good it did me, huh?” She motioned to the plum-colored love seat and plush chairs grouped around a cherry coffee table in a sitting area two steps down from the foyer. The grouping faced an expanse of windows and a sliding glass door to a concrete balcony and was lit with both tall black floor lamps and flickering white candles placed on small tables.

  “Can I get you drinks?” Tanda offered.

  “Water’s fine, thanks,” Quinn said.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Told you so,” Nick muttered as soon as she was out of sight.

  “Shush.” But she couldn’t help asking, “How does she know you so well?”

  Nick shook his head and sat in a fussy chintz overstuffed chair next to the love seat. “I’ve protected others at conferences or whatever, and she was there.”

  Tanda returned and sat on the love seat next to Quinn, setting a pitcher of water and some glasses on the glossy coffee table. Nick leaned forward to pour for them.

  “How are you?” Quinn asked Tanda, taking her hand.

  “Oh, about how you’d expect.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t try to hide or suppress them. “It’s like losing a limb, I guess, or a sense. My life is completely different.” She blinked and met Quinn’s eyes. “Steve left me.”

  Quinn gasped. “No way!”

  She nodded and sniffled. “About a week ago. He doesn’t like the way I’m handling this, he said. Like I’m whining and feeling sorry for myself.”

  “How dare he!” Quinn wanted to say the very essence of who Tanda was had been taken from her, but
that would make her feel worse. “It’s not like being a goddess is just a job and being leeched gives you an opportunity to try something new. It’s not a layoff.”

  “Exactly.” She took a deep breath and got herself under control. “Anyway, he blamed me for letting it happen and for how it changed our lives, and now he’s gone and good riddance.” She eyed Nick, her lips quirking in a sad smile. “You in the market, cowboy?”

  Uncharacteristically serious, he said quietly, “No.” He didn’t look at Quinn, but a frisson went up her spine.

  Then Tanda made it worse by patting Quinn’s hand and saying, “I know.” What the hell did that mean?

  “Can you tell us what happened?” Nick asked. “Were you here?”

  “Yes, which is why it’s so bizarre. Levon—the guy at the desk—was on duty but he never saw anyone. He doesn’t leave the desk unless his partner is there, and he didn’t see anything, either. It was a quiet night.”

  Quinn looked at the glass doors. “What about the balcony?”

  “We’re twenty-two floors up.”

  Nick rose to look outside, but Tanda waved him down and said, “Don’t bother. It’s about two feet deep, just an observation spot. It’s not wide enough for someone to have jumped onto, and the way the apartments are structured, all the balconies are staggered about twenty feet apart.”

  “They could have rappelled down.”

  “Maybe, but again, unlikely. The couple with the balcony right above me was outside when it happened. They love the city in the rain. They said they saw the flashes of light down here, but before that, nothing. They would have spotted someone rappelling. Plus, if he came down the side of the building, he’d be wet. He wasn’t.”

  “Okay.” Nick sat back in the puffy chair and crossed one ankle over his leg. “When did you know he was in here?”

  “I was making myself some dinner in the kitchen. I remembered my cell phone needed charging, so I came out to get it and he was standing right there.” She turned and pointed to the center of the room. “The locks were still engaged. I could see them.”

  “Only option left was that he was here before you got home.” Nick stood and went back to the foyer, opening the closet door to peer inside. “He could have slipped in when the guard was occupied or said he was visiting someone else in the building, then broke in here—those locks would be easy for him, right?” He looked at Quinn, who lifted one shoulder. He was probably right.

  “Thanks,” Tanda said. “Like that doesn’t creep me out even more.”

  “Did you know him?” Quinn asked.

  “I don’t think so. He wore a cloak with a deep hood. The lights were off in here, except an accent lamp in the corner.” She pointed to the platform running along the side of the room, where a tall bookcase would have cast shadows from the lamp she indicated. “I didn’t recognize his voice, but he struck so fast I can’t be sure I’ve never seen him before.”

  Quinn wanted to ask how he’d done it, but the words stuck in her throat. Nick somehow knew and did it for her.

  “I don’t know.” The tears welled again. “He said something in Latin, I think, and there was a flash of brilliant white light. I fell back, then it was like he was pulling string out through my abdomen. It hurt a little, but even worse was the paralysis. I couldn’t move or yell or even think. There was more light, then blackness. I think I passed out. Next thing I knew, I was lying here in the dark, and I couldn’t do a damned thing.” The tears turned into sobs that she tried to muffle with her hand. Quinn moved closer and gathered her friend in, her heart breaking for her. Nick handed over a box of tissues.

  Quinn imagined the scene, the sensations Tanda had described, and wished with all her heart there was some way to reverse the leeching, to drain the power from the leech back into Tanda. But she had never heard of such a thing.

  “You said he took your cell phone?” Nick asked when he returned from prowling the rest of the apartment.

  “Yes.” Tanda eased away from Quinn and accepted the clean tissues she handed her. “It was my only phone. I got a new one, but all my contacts are on the old one, and the backup is on my work computer in the office.” She smiled sheepishly. “I haven’t wanted to, you know, leave.”

  “How come you didn’t cancel the old number?”

  “The security team asked me not to. They want to monitor the phone, I guess, and try to track him through it or something.”

  “Why would he take it?” Quinn turned to Nick. “That seems stupid.”

  “He probably ditched it,” Nick guessed. “Took it to cut Tanda off, to delay the word getting out and stuff.”

  The setting sun blazed through a break in the clouds, filling the room with golden light.

  “Oh!” Tanda checked her watch. “It’s dinner time. You should stay.”

  “That sounds great,” Nick said, imploring Quinn with his hand over his stomach.

  “We’d love to, but—”

  “Really, Quinn, I want you to stay. It’s been so nice having you here, and you need to rest before you hit the road again, don’t you?” She flashed a smile at Nick. “I know he won’t fly.”

  “I would like to, but Sam’s waiting downstairs in the car—”

  “What!” Tanda leapt toward the phone. “Why didn’t you say so? Oh, the poor boy. Where’s the car?” Nick told her as she hit some buttons on the keypad. “Levon, can you please have Beau do me a favor? Can you send him across the street to the black Charger sitting there and have the man inside the car, Sam Remington, come upstairs? Thanks, Levon. You’re the best.”

  So the three of them stayed for a wonderful spaghetti dinner and conversation that avoided anything to do with goddesses. They left much later, after turning down Tanda’s offer to stay overnight. Quinn had been tempted to accept, wished she could stay for a while and help Tanda figure out what to do next, but two things made her say no. If the leech did target Quinn, it would be awful to have it happen here. And the best way they could help Tanda was to find the leech, so she could stop being scared.

  They didn’t speak until they were in the elevator.

  “Well, that wasn’t much help.” Nick sighed.

  “We don’t seem closer to answers.” Sam leaned against the back of the elevator, his face pinched. “I know one thing, though.” His eyebrows came together over worried eyes as he looked at Quinn. “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Don’t even go there.” Nick pounded on the lobby button a few times, though they were descending smoothly. “It’s not going to happen.”

  The problem was, if it came down to it, Quinn didn’t know how they could stop it.

  Chapter Seven

  The Society’s annual meeting is not merely a tool of governance. All members are encouraged to take advantage of the opportunities for networking, education, and even socialization with members they may not otherwise have an opportunity to meet due to distance or circumstance. The stronger our relationships individually, the stronger our community.

  —The Society for Goddess Education and Defense, Notice of Meeting

  …

  They found a cheesy motel about an hour down the road, a run-down one-story affair off the highway. Sam registered them, paying cash for two rooms and convincing the not-so-savvy female clerk that she didn’t need their IDs. Then ensued a boredom- and fatigue-induced argument about who would sleep where.

  “I don’t know how many times I have to say it,” Nick said. “Not letting her out of my sight.”

  “You’re not the only one who can protect her,” Sam argued. “We have business to take care of, and it doesn’t make sense for me to be in a different room. Of the three of us, you’ve gotten the least sleep. Since you won’t let either of us drive—”

  “Guys.” Quinn leaned forward.

  “Dude. I’ve been crisscrossing this country for years. I drive alone all. The. Time.”

  “Boys!”

  “That’s not relevant. You d
on’t normally drive this long, this far, in such a short time. Don’t try to tell me you do.”

  Quinn gave up. Their rooms were at the end of the building, and there were no cars between here and the office. Their debate hadn’t drawn attention that she could see, and they weren’t listening to her. So she gathered up her stuff, plucked a keycard from Sam’s back pocket, and went into her room.

  The voices outside halted abruptly when she kicked her door closed. She surveyed the tiny, dingy room and its double beds. “Damn.” She’d gotten the wrong card. The room next door had the king bed.

  Oh well. Served them right for acting like ten-year-olds. She wasn’t in the mood to switch. After she washed up and brushed her teeth, she unlocked her side of the connecting door and cracked it open. That would be good enough for Nick. Without bothering to undress, she collapsed on the multicolored nylon bedspread and fell instantly asleep.

  For a while she slept soundly, dreamlessly. But then she emerged into a world of flickering, changing light and colors. Flashes of brilliant white accompanied screams she recognized, screams of other goddesses she knew, people she called friends. She tried to find them, to get to them, a solid, warm presence at her back that she knew was Sam. But every time she thought she was getting close, there was that light, the screaming, and it was too late.

  Then she saw a shadow, a lumbering shape ahead of her. It was him. The leech. He paused, turned to his right. She gasped. She recognized his profile. She knew him! She opened her mouth to call out his name, but no sound emerged from her throat. He turned anyway, and she realized she wouldn’t be able to scream if he leeched her. Sam. She reached behind, but he was gone. She was alone now, in the dark, except for the leech. She didn’t fall, but she was suddenly on the ground. Breathing came hard. The leech loomed over her, his face the only thing she could see.

  “Good morning,” Nick said.

  Quinn startled awake so violently she knocked a cup out of Nick’s hand. It went flying, hit the table near the window, and splashed all over the drapes, chair, and floor.