Moon Investigations: Books Three and Four

  MOON INVESTIGATIONS:

  Books Three and Four

  AMERICAN VAMPIRE

  MOON CHILD

  By

  J.R. RAIN

  Acclaim for the novels of J.R. Rain:

  “Be prepared to lose sleep!”

  —James Rollins, international bestselling author of The Doomsday Key

  “I love this!”

  —Piers Anthony, bestselling author of Xanth

  “Dark Horse is the best book I’ve read in a long time!”

  —Gemma Halliday, bestselling author of Spying in High Heels

  “Moon Dance is absolutely brilliant!”

  —Lisa Tenzin-Dolma, author of Understanding the Planetary Myths

  “Powerful stuff!”

  —Aiden James, bestselling author of Cades Cove

  “Moon Dance is a must read. If you like Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter, be prepared to love J. R. Rain’s Samantha Moon, vampire private investigator.”

  —Eve Paludan, author of Letters from David

  “Impossible to put down. J.R. Rain’s Moon Dance is a fabulous urban fantasy replete with multifarious and unusual characters, a perfectly synchronized plot, vibrant dialogue and sterling witticism all wrapped in a voice that is as beautiful as it is rich and vividly intense as it is relaxed.”

  —April Vine, author of The Midnight Rose

  Other Books by J.R. Rain

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  The Lost Ark

  The Body Departed

  Elvis Has Not Left the Building

  Silent Echo

  Judas Silver: The Novel

  Lost Eden: The Novel

  VAMPIRE FOR HIRE SERIES

  Moon Dance

  Vampire Moon

  American Vampire

  Moon Child

  Christmas Moon

  Vampire Dawn

  Vampire Games

  Moon Island

  Moon River

  Vampire Sun

  SAMANTHA MOON SHORT STORIES

  Teeth

  Vampire Nights

  Vampires Blues

  Vampire Dreams

  Halloween Moon

  Vampire Gold

  Blue Moon

  JIM KNIGHTHORSE SERIES

  Dark Horse

  The Mummy Case

  Hail Mary

  Clean Slate

  SPINOZA TRILOGY

  The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo

  The Vampire Who Played Dead

  The Vampire in the Iron Mask

  GRAIL QUEST TRILOGY

  Arthur

  Merlin

  Lancelot

  ALADDIN TRILOGY

  with Piers Anthony

  Aladdin Relighted

  Aladdin Sins Bad

  Aladdin and the Flying Dutchman

  WALKING PLAGUE TRILOGY

  with Elizabeth Basque

  Zombie Patrol

  Zombie Rage

  Zombie Mountain

  SPIDER SERIES

  with Scott Nicholson and H.T. Night

  Bad Blood

  Spider Web

  NICK CAINE SERIES

  with Aiden James

  Temple of the Jaguar

  Treasure of the Deep

  Pyramid of the Gods

  Curse of the Druids

  GHOST FILES SERIES

  edited with Scott Nicholson

  Ghost College

  Ghost Fire

  Ghost Soldier

  Ghost Hall

  Ghost Tattoo

  SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

  The Bleeder and Other Stories

  Vampires Rain and Other Stories

  The Santa Call: A Christmas Story

  SCREENPLAYS

  Judas Silver

  Lost Eden

  COLLABORATIONS

  Cursed! (with Scott Nicholson)

  The Vampire Club (with Scott Nicholson)

  Dragon Assassin (with Piers Anthony)

  Daughters of Eve (with P.J. Day)

  Hear No Evil (with Michele Scott)

  Zombie Party: Stories (with P.J. Day)

  Moon Investigations: Books Three and Four

  Published by J.R. Rain

  Copyright © 2011 by J.R. Rain

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  AMERICAN VAMPIRE

  MOON CHILD

  Reading Samples

  About the Author

  AMERICAN VAMPIRE

  Vampire for Hire #3

  Copyright © 2011 by J.R. Rain

  All rights Reserved.

  Dedication

  To all of you who dream of change. May you take those first, tentative steps towards creating the life you’ve always wanted. Follow your heart always, my friends, and may you make this world a better place.

  Acknowledgments

  A big thank you to Sandy Johnston (again!), Eve Paludan and Elaine Babich, always my first readers. All writers should be so lucky.

  American Vampire

  “How do we seem to you? Do you think us beautiful, magical, our white skin, our fierce eyes? Drink, you ask me! Have you any idea of the thing you will become?”

  —Interview with a Vampire

  “We’re all kept alive by magic, Sookie. My magic’s just a little different from yours, that’s all.”

  —True Blood

  Previous

  I was in the same parking lot where a young lady had been killed not too long ago in connection with a case of mine. A case that had involved Kingsley.

  The parking lot was mostly empty. It was late Sunday night, so no surprise there. I was in a spot that afforded me a perfect view of the parking lot’s entrance.

  I’m really doing this, I thought.

  I was a few minutes early. To my right was an alley that ran behind the restaurant. The alley was clean and dimly lit and led to the back entrances of the stores that ran along Harbor Boulevard. Potted plants were arranged outside the bar’s back door, and a nearby fire escape appeared freshly painted. The alley itself was composed of cobblestones, like something you would see in an English village. I remembered the way the girl’s blood had soaked between the stones, zigzagging rapidly away from her dying body.

  The moon was bright, but not full. Clouds were scattered thinly across the glowing sky. Glowing, at least, to my eyes. A small wind made its way through my partially opened driver’s side window. I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking, and so I kept them there on the steering wheel, gripping tightly, my knuckles glowing white.

  A car turned slowly into the parking lot, making a left from Chapman Avenue. Its headlights bounced as the vehicle angled up the slight driveway and into the parking lot.

  I’m really doing this.

  I hadn’t expected to be this nervous. Fang knew everything about me. He knew my dirtiest secrets. So what did I know about him? I knew he was a lady’s man. I knew he had a massive fascination for vampires. I knew he was mortal.

  And that was it.

  In a way, I loved Fang. He was always, always there for me. In my darkest hours, he consoled me. He lifted me up and reminded me that I was not a monster. I shared with him my heart, and in return he accepted it with tenderness and compassion. He was the perfect man. The perfect confidant.

  I didn’t want to lose what I had with Fang.

  The car continued moving through the parking lot. I could hear its tires crunching. The car, I soon saw, was an old muscle car. A beautiful
thing. Not quite cherried, but obviously well taken care of. It gave off a throaty growl, not unlike the growl of the werewolf the other night.

  I didn’t want to lose Fang. I love what we have. Our connection was so rare, so helpful, so loving, so sweet, so important to me.

  I can’t lose that.

  I wrapped my hands around my keys, which were still hanging in the ignition.

  This was a bad idea. I should never have agreed to this.

  “What am I doing?” I whispered, feeling real panic, perhaps the first panic I had felt in a long time. Far worse panic than when a nine-foot-tall werewolf approached me in my hotel room.

  And what if Fang isn’t who he says he is? What if he’s someone completely different? Someone untrustworthy?

  What if I have to silence him?

  I started rocking in the driver’s seat. The throaty growl of the muscle car reverberated through the empty lot, bouncing off the surrounding dark buildings. The car pulled slowly into a parking space two rows in front of me.

  We were now facing each other. The windshield was tinted enough for me to have a hard time seeing inside. Still, I could see a single figure. A man.

  The driver turned the car off and the parking lot fell silent again. A moment later, the muscle car’s headlights flashed twice.

  My heart slammed inside me. My right hand was still holding the keys. I could start the car now and get the hell out of here and forget this night ever happened, and Fang and I could go back to what we had.

  I could. But I didn’t.

  I reached down and flashed my headlights twice in return. A moment later, the muscle car’s driver’s side door opened. A booted foot stepped out.

  Close to hyperventilating, I went to open my door but stopped short. Shit, I had forgotten about my seat belt. I hastily unfastened it and opened the door.

  I’m really doing this.

  As I stepped out of my van completely, the person opposite me did the same. The night air was cool. Sounds from the nearby bar reached us. Laughter. Music. The low murmur of a handful of conversations going on at once.

  I stepped around to the front of my minivan, and the figure in front of me did the same, stepping to the front of his car. He leaned a hip casually against the front fender. When I saw him, I stopped and gasped and covered my mouth with both hands.

  Fang grinned at me. “Hello, Moon Dance.”

  Chapter One

  The night was cool.

  The waning moon hovered just above the old downtown buildings, its silver light suffusing with the yellow of the parking lot lights. Both sets of lights served to illuminate the tall man standing in front of me. Not that I needed much light to see him in the dark, thanks to the phosphorescent streaks of incandescence that seemed visible only to me. And perhaps others like me.

  A small wind rattled a tree next to me. The tree had thick, waxy leaves that reflected the surrounding light. The tree didn’t seem native to Southern California. Trees in Southern California tended to be stunted and pathetic-looking. A plastic grocery bag scuttled halfheartedly across the parking lot, passing between Fang and me. We both ignored it.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked, grinning easily. There was humor in his deep voice, but there was also something else. Doubt. Just a shred of it. But it was there, underlying his humor. And I knew the reason for his doubt, for I shared it, too. Fang wasn’t at all certain this meeting was a good idea, either. And I suspected why.

  He has a secret, too. A big secret.

  How I knew this, I wasn’t sure. A psychic hit, perhaps. But I was suddenly certain that Fang stood to lose much by this meeting; after all, his past—whatever it was—would not remain hidden, not with me in the picture.

  We all have our secrets.

  I finally moved my hands away from my mouth and took in a lot of air. I don’t generally need a lot of air; in fact, I’m fairly certain I don’t need any air at all. But breathing deep helped calm my nerves, and since my lungs still worked, I figured I might as well use them every now and again.

  I also found myself scanning the parking lot, wondering if I had somehow walked into an elaborate prank...or something far worse. A trap perhaps. But I sensed no danger here and I sensed no malice from Fang. Granted, my sixth sense wasn’t foolproof, but in situations like this, well, it certainly would have been triggered. Especially since my extrasensory perception seemed to be getting stronger and stronger of late.

  “Don’t look so concerned, Moon Dance,” Fang said. He eased himself off the fender of his car and faced me. “We’re alone.”

  I still hadn’t spoken. Music pumped from the bar nearby and I might have heard the sharp crack of a pool ball striking another pool ball. Either that, or someone had just broken a kneecap. There was a slight hint of beer on the wind...and vomit. The two often went hand in hand, especially at this late hour and especially in a back alley parking lot.

  I stopped scanning the surrounding area and focused on the man before me. Now with my shock abating, the investigator in me was surfacing. The man, I was certain, had stalked me. In fact, I was sure of it. That raised all sorts of alarm bells within me, although I should have known it would happen sooner or later. Fang was, admittedly, a vampire aficionado. I should have known he would have used all the clues I had laid out before him over the years to eventually find me.

  Perhaps you wanted to be found, Sam.

  Perhaps.

  Granted, a part of me had hoped Fang would be Kingsley, but Kingsley was a very different kind of creature of the night. In the end, I knew that Fang could not have been Kingsley.

  But I never expected the man standing before me now.

  Finally, I spoke. “They let you off work early.” Now I, too, stepped away from my van.

  “Yeah, well, I told them it was an emergency,” said Fang easily.

  He moved away from his car and stepped over the crumbling concrete parking curb with its exposed, rusted re-bars.

  “And this is an emergency?” I asked.

  His face lit up. “Of the highest order, Moon Dance.”

  Now he was coming toward me, moving across the empty parking lot. On his chest, the two great shark teeth swung and bounced from the leather strap. Only I was beginning to think they weren’t shark teeth.

  Fang. His name is Fang for a reason.

  More deep breaths. I was tempted to step away from my van, but I couldn’t make my legs work. In fact, they suddenly felt gelatinous and heavy and not really my own.

  I put my hand on the van’s warm hood, stabilizing myself.

  Fang was a tall man, and his long strides quickly ate up the asphalt between us. When he was just a few arms lengths away, he stopped, chest heaving.

  “I don’t know your name,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. His eyes rapidly roamed over me, taking me in. But I was used to him looking at me, wasn’t I? After all, I had often caught him looking at me.

  “You never asked for my name,” he said.

  “Married women don’t ask bartenders for their names,” I said.

  “You’re not married now.”

  “Technically I’m separated. The divorce paperwork is being drawn up now by my attorney.”

  “You’re doing an awful lot of talking,” said the Heroes’ bartender, smiling at me again. His white teeth shone brightly, and so did the monstrously long teeth dangling from his neck. “And not enough asking.”

  “Fine,” I said, feeling my heart calming down. This was Fang, after all, my best friend, my confidant, the man I had opened my life up to...all my secrets, all my fears. Everything. “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Eli Roberts,” he said. “But my given name is,” he paused. “Aaron Parker.”

  I blinked, and might have gasped, too.

  Aaron Parker. I knew the name, of course. Anyone in law enforcement would know the name. I looked at the man in front of me again...looked at the fangs hanging from the leather strap. Indeed, those weren’t shark teeth.<
br />
  “You’re the American Vampire,” I said.

  He smiled and laughed lightly. “Could you say that a little louder, Moon Dance?”

  Chapter Two

  The Downtown Bar & Grill was a new restaurant in a very old building. The walls were brick and the black lacquer bar counter was epic. It stretched from nearly end to end and I could only imagine how many drinks had been served from its polished, scarred surface.

  Aaron Parker, aka Fang, found us a table in the darkest corner of the deepest part of the lounge. Music thumped from nearby speakers. There wouldn’t be a soul on earth who could overhear us. A waitress materialized out of the darkness like a ghost and took our orders. Aaron ordered for us. White wine for me. Jack and Coke for him.

  “You remembered what I drink,” I said. I found myself feeling wary and highly exposed and vulnerable. I also found myself fighting a very strong desire to run. But to run was to leave a lot of questions unanswered.

  To run was to screw everything up, and I didn’t want to screw everything up.

  Aaron sat forward and studied me intently. I don’t like to be studied intently. He knew that, didn’t he? Interestingly, his look was the same look he’d given me many times at Heroes, a bar I frequented with my sister. Silly me, I had thought his probing glance had been an interest of a different sort. Now I knew differently. He had been stalking me. He had known who I was all along.

  I instinctively looked away, feeling a bit like a freak at a carnival: “Come one, come all—see the real-life bloodsucker!”

  Now that he was sitting across from me and not endlessly serving customers, I had a chance to really study him. I had always found him attractive. I’m sure he knew that. And my sister had an unhealthy crush on him that her husband really should probably be concerned about. Aaron Parker was tall. Perhaps one of the tallest men I had ever seen. I suspected he was an athlete and I resisted the urge to ask him if he played basketball. Aaron had full lips. The kind most women drool over. He had sad puppy dog eyes, as brown and bright as polished cherry wood. But it was his mouth that I found the most curious. He didn’t seem to know what to do with those beautiful lips of his. Sometimes he pulled them as if snarling. And sometimes they seemed to drape over his lower lip. Often they moved and shifted and I kept having the impression he was about to say something, but words rarely followed the movement. It was the oddest twitch I had ever seen.