Hunt the Moon

“Well, obviously, there is.”

He shook his head. “No, there isn’t. It took me a while to figure it out, too. I probably wouldn’t have, but a couple of the guests were talking about it. Apparently, they don’t do it often and the mages are having a collective magicgasm over the whole—”

“Billy!” I said impatiently.

“I couldn’t go through the wall because it wasn’t there,” he said simply.

“Come again?”

“Near as I can figure out, they’ve turned the whole inside of the house into a portal. The outside is still here, but they’ve transported the inside . . . somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. There’re only two doors that work—the front and this one—and none of the windows do. I guess when you go through one of the working doors, you go through the portal to . . . well, wherever they’ve taken the place. And when you come out, you’re back here.”

“That’s why I can’t shift,” I said slowly. “They’ve taken the house outside this world, and my power only works here.”

“That would be my guess, yeah. So, like I said, you’re not getting in.”

“Oh, I’m getting in.” This only made me more determined. Not only were they having my coronation without me, but they were having it somewhere my own power didn’t even work. And, apparently, no one saw the irony in that.

Billy crossed his arms. “Okay, say you do. What then? Most of the major players in the sup world are in there. If something big is about to go down, let them handle it.”

“They can’t handle it if they don’t know what it is.”

“You don’t know what it is.”

“And I’m not going to if I’m stuck out here. Now get back in there and get me something I can use!”

Billy sighed and faded away, muttering something, while I stared in frustration at the ultramodern sphere looming overhead. It looked vaguely like aliens had crashed into the side of the mountain, leaving half of their flying saucer sticking out. Much of the visible part of the house was glass, I suppose to take advantage of the panoramic view of the tree-lined valley below and the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas beyond.

It was gorgeous, sleek and impressive, much like its owner. With a shell just as maddeningly hard to crack. But I had to figure something out or this was going to be one memorable evening—for all the wrong reasons.

I was still standing there when a couple emerged from the darkness. The man had a seventies nerdstache and eyes as cold as a new razor blade. The woman adjusted a spill of mink over her shoulder and tried not to look like she’d been feeding a vampire in the woods in the middle of the night. Neither paid any attention to the snack carrying snacks as they mounted the stairs.

The man rapped imperiously on the door, which promptly opened. His lip curled as his eyes took in Jack’s complete dearth of sartorial elegance. “Even tonight, you couldn’t make an effort?”

“An effort?” Jack inquired, deliberately disingenuous.

“You know what I mean! Half the guests are human!”

“And half are vampire.” Jack ran a bony finger under the guy’s too-wide polyester tie and gave it a flip. “Do you think for a moment that fine clothes and a pretty face make them forget what we are?”

“Not with you wearing that ridiculous costume!” the man snapped with a total lack of irony. He and his dinner swept inside.

Jack laughed. It looked no better on him than the smile, but the sound was surprisingly full and rich. “Everyone here is in costume,” he called after them. “Some are even smart enough to know it!”

“Everyone except you,” I said.

His eyes slid back to me, reflecting the gaslight from beside the door. It made flames dance in his pupils, like he needed the added creepy. “I beg your pardon?”

“That’s how you really look, isn’t it?” Judging by the brown lace of his cravat and the frayed cuffs on his coat, they might have been Victorian originals. And his pale face and limp, lifeless hair looked that way because he was exerting no power to make them appear otherwise. I was in disguise; the other vamp was in disguise. But Jack was just Jack.

I hadn’t really expected an answer, but he suddenly bent forward, his breath raising goose bumps on the still-wet skin of my neck. “Tell me, little one, do you know why vampires find the Hollywood stereotype so loathsome?”

“Bad dialogue and worse acting?”

“Because it shows us stripped bare, exposed and naked in our brutality—in other words, as we really are. We’re all monsters, under the skin.” He grinned at me. “Even the beautiful ones.”

I ignored the jab at Mircea, who most definitely fit that description. “Is that why they stuck you guarding the back door? Because you embarrass them?”

“They’re afraid of what I might say if allowed to mingle with all our fine guests.” His tone was light, but there was something dark in his eyes.

“Same here,” I said, trying to find common ground.

His gaze met mine, and there was the tiniest glint of laughter in those beetle black depths. He knew he was being played, but he was bored and pissed and he didn’t care. “I thought they were afraid that their precious asset might get her soft, white throat cut.”

I swallowed, resisting a strong urge to cover up the vulnerable skin in question. “That’s what they say, because it sounds better. But I think they’re ashamed of me. I grew up in a vampire’s court, but it wasn’t the right court. You know?”

He nodded. It was no secret that Tony had been the vampire equivalent of white trash. It was one reason why I was starting to suspect that I would never fit in with vampire society. That and not actually being a vampire.

“We outcasts should stick together—is that your contention?” he asked.

“You’re the one who said this party needed livening up.”

“So to speak.”

“Are you going to let me in?”

“My orders were to stop you.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Jack beamed like the owner of a dim-witted puppy that has finally done its first trick. “No, it wasn’t, was it?”

“Well?”

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You are about to become Pythia.”

I crossed my arms. I knew what was coming. “And?”

“And you may have an opportunity to do me a small favor in the future.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Nothing too disturbing,” he murmured.

Since this was Jack, that didn’t reassure me much. “I’d have to approve of whatever it is,” I said reluctantly. It felt like I was making a pact with the devil, which wasn’t far from the truth. But I had to get in there.

“Agreed,” he said, so quickly that I knew I was going to regret this. But he flung open the door with a flourish. “I look forward to seeing Lord Mircea’s reaction to your presence.”

“That makes one of us,” I muttered, and hurried inside.

Chapter Thirty-four

Jack had set up a stool at the end of a walnut-paneled hallway just outside the kitchen. There was a mirror on the wall, probably for the servers to use to check themselves out, so I did—and got a shock. My strawberry blond curls were still hidden by the wig, but it was my own tip-tilted nose and wide blue eyes staring back at me.