Samantha moon phantasm, p.117
Samantha Moon Phantasm, page 117
part #9 of Vampire for Hire Series
With that done, I asked, “When was the last time you saw your daughter?”
“A week ago,” said Gene.
“Seven and a half days ago,” added Rita, and I could imagine the terrible dread she was going through, since I had been through something similar a few months ago with Anthony. That said, my son hadn’t been kidnapped for longer than a half day.
Half a day is a half day too long.
And she had been dealing with it for over a week.
I was tempted to ease her pain with another suggestion—both of their pains—but felt doing so was unfair, denying them their natural parental reaction. Five centuries ago, my one-time father had found me dead in a cave weeks after I’d disappeared. He’d mentioned I had been recently killed and consumed. By his judgment, I had been killed a week or two after my abduction. Why the Red Rider waited, I didn’t know, but if this was truly his M.O. then we might still have hope.
“Tell me about the day she went missing,” I said.
They did, and, admittedly, their tale had me sitting up and taking notice.
Rita began. “Our daughter was—I mean, is—different. Why do I keep doing that? That scares me.” Her hubby patted her hand. “She played in the woods more than she played at home. Among the many things she claimed—Gene, you tell her.”
He looked at me hesitantly and I sent him a small nudge, reminding him I was here to help, I was a friend, and that I was charming AF.
He sat up beaming, leaning toward me, and I promptly eased back on the charming AF part. Oops, too much charm.
“One of our daughter’s quirks, if you could call it that, is that she claims to talk to... fairies,” said Gene.
“Interesting.”
“Of course, we don’t really believe her—”
Rita jumped in. “We thought it was, you know, like having an invisible friend or something.”
Gene nodded. “She claimed to talk to them all the time.”
As they spoke, I had the briefest flash of a memory, of something small and beautiful coming up to me in the forests back home when I was a kid, something that buzzed around my head, paused... smiled at me and left. I ran home and told my mom all about it. She had laughed at me and told me I had been in the sun too long, and that if I kept making up stories I wouldn’t be able to go out into the forest alone anymore. It had been the last time I had seen such a creature. Or had I seen it? It seemed more dream than memory. I had, I knew, been a budding witch in this life, finally regaining my powers which had been consumed by the Red Rider, powers that had taken several lifetimes to re-ignite, so to speak.
Gene continued, “According to her, they were everywhere... in the garden, in the forest.”
“Have you ever talked to anyone about this?” I asked.
Gene and Rita shared a glance. “No. No one. We were embarrassed. Quite frankly, I have no idea why we are telling you now.”
“Because you trust me and know that I am here to help.”
“Yes, of course,” they said together.
I looked at Gene. “Go on.”
“We thought her talking to fairies and ‘forest spirits’ was just a phase until... well, until I saw one myself.”
He had been sitting in his car, relishing a few minutes of quiet after returning home from work. He was a film agent in Hollywood, and although the job sounded glamorous, it took a lot of his time, and sometimes he would just sit in the driveway here with the windows down, listening to the wind and birds and squirrels, trying like hell not to look at his muted phone. He had dozed off... and awoke to find his daughter emerging from the woods behind the house. The family lived high up the mountain range just behind Santa Barbara—a range I should know the name of but didn’t. The woods behind the house certainly didn’t compare to the redwoods I grew up with, but the trees here were numerous enough, though a bit stunted, and only a few dozen feet tall, rather than the hundred plus in Northern California.
Still, a woods is a woods, as long as there were trees and underbrush and wildlife, of which they had plenty here. He and his wife had long since quit worrying about little Annie being alone in the woods behind the house. First off, the family owned most of the land behind the house—he had opted to buy land, rather than a bigger home. And second, Annie had proven herself to be a rather competent outdoorsman, never mind the hundreds of crazy stories she returned home with, many of which they had asked for her to keep to herself, so strange and surreal and sometimes alarming as they were. Hearing about her talking to fairies was one thing, but hearing about the wood spirits teaching her magic spells was another. They had nearly put a stop to it until she had assured them she would speak of it no more, and she hadn’t.
But when he had seen her emerge from the woods, he had seen the glowing lights following her... many lights, in fact. And he saw... really saw... what they were. He had sat in his car, mouth hanging open, as tiny, human-like figures with wings trailed behind her and around her, while she laughed and spun and twirled her way out of the forest. Never had he seen her so happy, and never had he been so terrified. He watched his daughter reach their back door—his driveway was positioned in such a way that he could see the backyard and the slopes of the mountain behind. There, she had held out her hand and kissed each of the flitting fairies as they had landed one after another on her palm. They rose up in a vortex of light... and shot back into the forest. Now alone, she had taken in a deep breath, smiled, and gone inside.
They didn’t have many rules with their free-spirited daughter, but one of them was to come home before sunset, which she always did, every time. That is, until eight nights ago.
When the sun had set and Annie hadn’t returned home, the search for their daughter had begun immediately. Mother and father had scoured the woods, going to all her known haunts. Although they didn’t find evidence of their daughter, they had come across an unusual amount of wildlife. Finally, the police were called. The evidence was scant. Other than horse prints, which seemed to appear out of nowhere and disappear again, there was no indication of foul play.
I didn’t tell the worried parents that their daughter had likely been kidnapped by a magic-eating immortal Inquisitor. Or that her fate would likely be the same as the hundreds of other young witches... to be consumed completely... the fate one of my former incarnations suffered hundreds of years ago.
Instead, I gave them a shot of optimism, told them I would do my best to find her, and headed out into the woods behind the backyard, wondering like crazy what the hell I was going to do next...
Chapter Four
I found myself recalling my one-time father’s letter... and his search for me.
Turned out, I hadn’t been all that far away. By my judgment, within about a fifty square mile radius. That J.C. found me at all is a credit to his perseverance. That he almost—almost—got to me in time is, perhaps, one of the greatest misfortunes of them all. My murder would lead to his search for my killer... a search that would span centuries and end in futility. Not only did my one-time father not find the Red Rider, he’d lost his immortality with a silver bolt to the heart. And with his death, as with all immortal beings who discovered immortality is merely for the lucky, he lost his chance at heaven and rebirth.
No, not futile, I thought, as I headed out along a well-worn trail that led from the family’s backyard. He left behind his love for me, and that was something I would treasure forever.
True, he might have been re-absorbed into the Is-All-Of-All, but his love would live on. Additionally, via his letter to me, he had laid out a foundation for which I could find the Red Rider. I don’t think he ever intended for me to continue the search. If so, maybe he didn’t know me very well after all.
No, I thought. He knew me very, very well. He knew I would take up the mantle.
After all, having been a victim of the Red Rider myself, I had a connection to the bastard. How I accessed that connection, I hadn’t a clue. That it even existed within me was strange as hell. Which led me to wonder: did the murderous bastard have access to me as well? I doubted it. After all, he had consumed me long ago... not the other way around. As terrible as it sounded, I had become a part of him. I could access that part of me within him, just as Jeffcock accessed that part of him (his blood) that was a part of me... and spy on me as he saw fit. According to his letter, he hadn’t spied too often. Truth was, I didn’t care if he had. He was my one-time father and he had given up heaven for me. If watching his daughter with her family gave him a small amount of joy, so be it. Besides, it hardly mattered now, with him long since dead.
The sun had set about an hour ago, and I felt the vibration of life pulsating through my body, the tingle of power and strength and invincibility. The way I felt now made me confident I could take on anyone. Even the Red Rider, whatever the fuck he was.
Be careful, child, came an oily whisper in the back of my mind. This entity feeds on magic for a reason.
I stood in the backyard at the top of a clearing. A ring of stunted trees arched around me.
He is a wizard. I know that.
He is a sorcerer, Sssamantha. The darkest of the dark. Put another way, his evil is unheard of, his abilities unknown. He treads where even angels cannot go.
The upper dimensions.
Yesss. Why do you think your goody-goody father had such a terrible time finding him?
I don’t know. Why?
The Red Rider, as he is now called, was on other worlds, other planes of existence, far, far, far from here.
Then why does he return here?
To feed, Sssamantha. The pickings are easy, and the beings here are three-dimensional.
You lost me.
The beings here are physical. Higher up, from the fourth dimension and onward, the beings are energetic. He comes here only long enough to feed, and then he flees again.
Great. And how and why should I trust you?
Does it feel like I am speaking the truth?
I ignored her. I didn’t want to get into debates with her. Not now, maybe never. Mostly because she did seem honest at that moment. She had far too much access to all of my thoughts. She knew all my hopes and dreams and fears and worries. She also knew what triggered feelings of warmth and trust, which meant she also knew how to manipulate such feelings. That said, her words made sense, and I didn’t have a ton of reason to doubt them. But I would always doubt the woman sent to possess me, specifically to take me over and to release all sorts of hell on earth. Um, yeah. Hard pass.
Still, the woman was undeniably old, clever, and versed in the darkest of magicks. Additionally, she had a vested interested in keeping me alive, on the off chance that I eventually gave in and allowed her control over my body.
Emphasis on off chance.
The path before me could have been a game trail. I also suspected the path was well worn thanks in part to Annie’s daily trips into the woods to visit her forest friends. I once had forest friends, too, and being here now further awakened memories I’d long dismissed as wild flights of the imagination... or dreams.
Which made a kind of sense. Turned out, a lot of these young witches were instinctively drawn to nature, as witchcraft, in general, was an earth-based magic. In this life, I had been drawn to the dense woods behind—and around—our home, as we had lived mostly off the grid. I, too, had heard the whisperings of the forest. I, too, had felt the pull to explore further and further. But I had never been taught spells by wood spirits or communed with animals, and I suspected I knew why. My magic was not up to par yet. It had been depleted by the Red Rider, and it had taken many lifetimes of reincarnation for the magic to build back up. This life was supposed to have finally awakened the magic within me. I suspected I would have needed Allison’s help... and the help of the spirit, Millicent. But I was never given the chance. I had been turned before the trifecta could form.
Yes, yes, came a voice from not-so-deep within. So you missed out on being a witch. You gained immortality, Sssamantha. You gained other powers too... powers you’re only now just discovering. Look at all that you can do.
She had a point, and she was also far more emboldened than I was comfortable with. Without warning or words, I tamped her down deep and threw a heavy mental sewer lid over the hole I imagined her in. And tossed a boulder on top of the lid for good measure.
Then I headed deeper into the woods.
Chapter Five
The woods here were... cute.
Meaning, they weren’t real woods. There was nothing deep and dark about them, despite the sun having long since gone down. Then again, not everyone could see the flowing, glowing light filaments like I could. Still, this had nothing to do with light and everything to do with space. The area had plenty of empty ground cover and only a smattering of brush mixed between the twisted coast live oaks and bushy California pepper trees. I also recognized a few bottle brush trees, since we had one in our backyard. But that was the extent of my tree knowledge. Scratch that... I spotted a eucalyptus tree, and a damn big one at that. I headed over to it since it was sort of the king of the mountain, so to speak.
Maybe someday I would memorize every tree species, you know being immortal and theoretically having all the time in the world. Maybe I would learn a few languages as well. Might as well become a black belt in karate—and a black belt in every other discipline as well. Explore every country, too. With all the time in the world on my hands, there was nothing I couldn’t do.
Maybe I’d get around to that stuff when the kids were in college. At this moment in time, I didn’t have the luxury to sit around memorizing trees or practicing jiu-jitsu. I had to bring home the bacon... and I had people to help. Clients, mainly. But clients were people too.
I had to consider the off chance that Annie’s guardian angel, who technically hired me, guided me to find this big eucalyptus tree. Something certainly pulled me toward it, and the last time I checked, I didn’t have any clairvoyant ability. That was Allison’s gift. Then again, I distinctly recalled having such a sense of ‘knowing’ when I was younger. Heck, it even seemed to be getting stronger as I matured... which is why I didn’t doubt that I’d been heading toward a life of witchery.
But the hint of psychic ability had stopped, the instant I woke up that day in the hospital, with wounds to my neck after the world’s worst jog, ever. No, not the worst. I could have ended up dead. But I had died, in a way. My past was dead to me, and a new life, of sorts, had begun.
Why was I missing my past life so much these days? I didn’t know, but I had reached the big eucalyptus tree. Big was an understatement. This sucker was epic, rising high into the air, its branches swaying and rustling in a wind I couldn’t feel. Almost as if it were speaking to me. Maybe even saying hi. Either that, or I really had gone nuts.
Speaking of nuts, I saw my first little light. It appeared from behind one of the upper branches and drifted down toward me. Then another appeared. Then another.
Then hundreds of them showered down around me.
“Sweet mama.”
Chapter Six
I had seen such lights before... on an island in the Pacific Northwest. Skull Island, no less. No, King Kong didn’t live there. At least, I didn’t think so.
Of course, there hadn’t been this many lights, but the size and shape were similar; that is, about as big as marbles and glowing white. They hovered, rising and falling on wind unfelt, on waves unseen. They almost seemed to be breathing as one, in and out, in and out... expanding, contracting, expanding, contracting... even as their numbers continued to increase the closer I came to the majestic tree.
The lights above and around could have been stars... that is, if the lights had remained stationary, which they didn’t. They flitted and swirled and disappeared and reappeared. At times I sensed a sort of substance—a hint of tiny shapes—within the lights, but I couldn’t see them, not really. Mostly, the lights sparked and faded. Curiously, they gave off a high-pitched whining that reminded me of downed power wires. If I had to guess, I would guess it was the sound of hundreds of fairy wings flying at once.
I could come up with no other explanation, despite not being able to see what, exactly, the white lights were composed of. Fairies, I suspected, only revealed their true selves to the innocent among us. Adults were not so innocent. Vampires were the least innocent of all. We literally had blood on our hands... and lips.
The bright lights were a sort of consolation prize... an acknowledgment of their existence, without a full reveal, so to speak. The question was... why would they reveal even this much to me?
My daughter claimed she could hear the thoughts of the fairies around our home. No, I hadn’t known there were fairies around our home, and, yes, I had written off her claim. Perhaps she had sensed my dismissiveness because she talked of the fairies less and less. That’s the thing with the little magical winged folk... they needed belief, I suspect or why bother?
The wind picked up, swaying the branches overhead, and the bright lights before me, too. The sight of them picked at a nagging sense of déjà vu. A half-memory came to me—I was eight or nine and wandering the woods behind my childhood home at night, probably headed to the big farm down the road to steal some vegetables. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a speck of light gliding over the thick ferns. At first, I probably mistook it for some kind of firefly, but it was too large. I veered off the main path and followed the light, laughing and giggling. It paused, and circled me once, twice, and the ‘firefly’ became a tiny woman smiling at me. She touched her nose with a miniscule finger, then flew over and touched my nose, smiled again, and darted off, flying higher and higher and disappearing in the thick branches above.
I told my mom—and she promptly convinced me that I’d dreamed or imagined it. Fairies didn’t exist, she’d said. I had been asleep in the forest or had let my imagination run wild again. I allowed her doubts to sink in, to sway me. Maybe I hadn’t seen the little lady. Maybe I really had dreamed it. I never saw the fairy again. I would have forgotten about the event altogether if my mother hadn’t reminded me about it a decade or so ago. “Remember when you were convinced you’d seen a fairy in the woods, Sun Dance? You were so excited, bouncing off the walls. It was all I could do to calm you down. I still laugh about it sometimes.”
