Moon River by J. R. Rain Page B

Stage two meant that I damn well better be near a bed, and in a dark room. I suppose a casket would work, too, but how weird was that?
    “ Too weird for me,” I whispered into my pillow.
    The entity within me was silent, as she usually was. What provoked her into contacting me recently, I didn’t know. And whether or not she was truly getting stronger, I didn’t know that either.
    But I suspected she was, and I thought I knew why.
    Her strength had been building over the years, but not because of time itself. I added to her strength each time I lost a little more of myself. Sephora had hinted at it.
    No matter what, at all costs, I had to retain who I was and not let the vampire in me consume me completely. If so, she would win. If so, I might not ever return.
    I did not want to spend an eternity on the sidelines, watching the thing within me ruin and destroy lives.
    With that thought, as the rising sun approached on the distant horizon, not quite dawn but only minutes away, as I slipped from phase two into phase three, I thought of Detective Hanner, my one-time vampire friend.
    How far gone was she? I knew Hanner had killed without remorse or discrimination. She had personally run a blood ring, overseen by psychotic killers. And I had watch her kill the lady jogger.
    As Fang stood by and watched...
    And then joined her.
    Yes, Hanner was very far gone, although, I suspected, not entirely consumed by the darkness within her. And, with sudden clarity, I suspected I knew why.
    “ She made an agreement with it,” I said sleepily to myself.
    I nodded into my pillow.
    Yes, that was it, of course. She had made an agreement with the entity early on. By allowing it to surface, to briefly possess her body, to live in this world sooner rather than later. By doing so, it, in return, gave Hanner access to her own body.
    Kind of it, I thought.
    Well, I wasn’t making a deal with the bitch within me. She wasn’t going to surface. Not now, or ever.
    “You can go to hell,” I mumbled aloud, barely coherent.
    And, just before sleep hit me, I knew what I had to do.
    I had to find Hanner...and Fang.
     
     
     
    Chapter Twenty-six
     
     
    I was in my minivan.
    Driving along the winding Bastanchury Road through the back hills of Yorba Linda, on my way to see an honest-to-God werewolf and a butler who may or may not have been Frankenstein—yeah, no shit—when my cell phone rang.
    Restricted. I.D.
    It was either Detective Sherbet or Detective Sanchez, so I played it safe. “Hi, Detective,” I said.
    “ How did you know it was me?” asked Sanchez.
    “ Lucky guess,” I said.
    Our connection wasn’t so strong that he could read my thoughts long distance, which was a good thing, because he might have known I wasn’t quite so awesome. Can’t have that.
    “ We have another body, Sam.”
    My smug grin faltered. “Where?”
    “Same place, same trail. Griffith Park.”
    “ Who?”
    “ A park ranger this time, which means this is about to get ugly fast.”
    “ Griffith Park has park rangers?”
    “ Apparently so. Look, rangers are cops in their own right, and there’s going to be a lot of questions about this one. A lot of people are going to want answers.”
    He was right, of course. Park rangers were cops, too, and when one of their own went down, well, whole departments—hell, whole agencies—kicked into gear.
    “Officially, it’s going down as a cougar attack.”
    “ Good,” I said. “Leave it at that. Fight for that. Don’t let anyone suggest otherwise.”
    “ Sam, the wound is identical to the jogger. We can’t hide this for long.”
    “ You won’t need to,” I said.
    There was a pause. I swear to God, I thought I might have even heard his heart beating through the phone. Maybe our connection was stronger than I’d thought. “What do you know, Sam?” he asked.
    I shielded my thoughts of Fang. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.”
    “ Do you know who did this?” asked Sanchez.
    “ I do.”
    “ Tell me,