Swallow the Moon Page 16

  Eric touched her face. "Do you want some water?"

  June nodded, breathing slowly. She felt the shock of near asphyxiation and the mind-numbing fear. Eric helped her to the couch before he went to the kitchen for water. June opened her hand, suspecting she held the red hematite heart. It glimmered in her open palm.

  When Eric came back, he sat beside her, looking at the debris scattered on the floor. He shook his head, handing her a glass of water.

  "Are you okay?"

  "I think so." She sipped.

  "What the hell happened?"

  "Cora choked me." Had Jake set her up or was it Cora getting even? Did it really matter? Cora was murderous and needed to pass on. Cora would not be going to the light – but that wasn't June's problem.

  "Cora nearly killed you twice in one day."

  "But I'm still here." June sipped more water. Swallowing hurt a little, but the water felt good. She wanted to huddle against him like a frightened child. Instead, she showed him the heart.

  "It was the only thing I could think of," he muttered. "I heard you shout for me, then shattering glass. It worked against Van Man Go; it was worth a shot."

  "I didn't shout."

  "I can't take any more hocus pocus right now." Eric raised his hand, looking away for a second. "My nerves are shot. Come here." He put his arm around her shoulders, June leaned on him. They sat like that for several minutes before either of them moved.

  June heaved a sigh.

  "I guess we need to talk about this."

  "Back to the Twilight Zone," Eric grumbled. "You go first. What happened in the Harbor?"

  "I went to see Iris," June said. "I brought her a dozen gift baskets. We had tea. When I left her shop, I saw Van working on something. I thought that I could talk to him…"

  Eric snorted.

  "Do you want to hear this or not?"

  "Like you didn't know better?" Eric made a face. "Van is all for himself. He doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone or anything."

  June wrinkled her nose at him. If he was going to cop an attitude, she wasn't going to tell him anything. She didn't have to, after all. What had Van said? 'You should get to know your boyfriend better.'

  "I want some tea."

  They walked to the kitchen. Eric made her sit at the counter while he nuked water for her tea. June stirred in honey for her throat while she wondered about Van's crack: 'I'll bet he didn't spend that tour playing strip poker with the local girls.'

  The silence in the kitchen was tense while they waited for the microwave to chirp. Eric set the cup in front of her before he exploded.

  "For the love of Christ, girl, you should've known better." He snagged the stool next to her with his foot. It made a protesting noise as it skidded over the tiles. "Did you really think he'd fall for a little sweet talk?"

  "I had to try." June stirred the tea, making a lot of noise with the spoon. She felt her cheeks get hot and her temper strained at its tether.

  Eric brought his fist to his forehead, making an angry noise in his throat.

  "Just a minute!" She rapped the spoon on the counter top, glaring at him.

  "What could he say that was worth dying for?"

  "It wasn't like that!"

  "Sweet Jesus, how clueless are you?"

  "Stop using the Lord's name in vain," she said. "Have some respect."

  He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a narrow-eyed glare.

  "Just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it doesn't exist." She faced him. "Whether you believe it or not, there is something out there and it is listening. Do you really want to piss it off right now?"

  "Don't change the subject." He put his hand on the counter leaning closer. "What happened in the shop?"

  "Is this an interrogation?" June scowled at him. How dare he try to intimidate her?

  Eric jerked backwards, his expression startled. He got off the stool so fast it squeaked on the floor again. He went back in the kitchen, pouring a cup of cold coffee.

  "No – it isn't. But I want some answers."

  June took a moment to collect her thoughts. How much of that conversation should she tell him? She watched Eric put his cup in the microwave, his back to her. She could see the tension in his shoulders. He was pretty pissed off.

  Well, he wasn't the only person who wanted some answers. He was going to be pissed no matter what. She may as well ask the questions.

  "What happened in Afghanistan?" June watched his head come up.

  If he was tense before, he was rigid now.

  "It doesn't matter. I've put that behind me," he said in a low voice.

  "Oh - bullshit." So Van was right, there were things about Eric that she should know. "Something gave Cora a way to put her hooks in you."

  "There aren't any hooks in me." He turned to face her.

  "That's bullshit, too." June got up to confront him.

  "Afghanistan is none of your business." Eric shifted his weight to his heels, taking a more belligerent stance, his arms crossed over his chest. The stubborn posture made her throw her hands in the air.

  "I'm done arguing with you." She gave him her back as she walked through the kitchen. "You need to come clean or you'll end up like my Uncle Ralph. He shot himself, in this very house, three years after he came home from Vietnam."

  She paused at the door to throw a parting shot over her shoulder.

  "The whole family was relieved."

  Men!

  She slammed the door behind her. Sniffing back tears of frustration, she walked past the chicken house. He was a jerk. A big brooding jerk who'd rather wallow than own up. Well, she'd let him wallow!

  She entered the grove of young maples – breathing deep to release her tension. A few red leaves still clung to the branches. She could feel the welcoming peace settle her nerves. She knelt at the edge of the pool, scooping leaves from the spring.

  Van Man Go's words came back to her. 'Ever wondered why his childhood sweetheart left him?'

  Van might be evil, but it was a fair question. She knew Eric was bitter about the divorce. What had Eric done that drove his wife to divorcing him?

  'He didn't play strip poker with the local girls on that tour.'

  Whatever happened in Afghanistan, it was so terrible he refused to discuss it.

  She had never been big on watching the news. She had enough trouble dealing with her job. The plant was full of people who stabbed each other in the back. What would war be like?

  She stared into the water, watching the reflected patterns of drifting clouds. A big red leaf rode the breeze to the water, where it settled. The ripples formed patterns.

  A man stood on a box with a bag over his head and his arms out. She could see him shake with fear. That image changed to a man struggling, held down by two men, while a third poured water over his face. The men all had military haircuts, but she recognized Eric. A crowd gathered in a square – she saw armed men fire into the press of men, women and children. She saw them cower; some ran, a woman with a baby in her arms fell, the side of her head blasted away.

  No more!

  June slapped the water. Tears burned her eyes as the images burned into her mind. Horrible things had happened – Eric had been right in the middle of it, had been a willing part of it!

  "June?" Eric called from the tree line.

  June wiped at her eyes. He would think that she was crying over the fight. Not over this – this – she couldn't think of a word for it. Horror didn't cover it.

  Well, let him think what he wanted!

  "I'm here," she said.

  Eric came down the path. He scanned the open space, taking in the spring and short dry grass.

  "I'm really sorry."

  She didn't answer.

  He came down to his knees next to her. He pulled a handful of grass, then tossed it into the spring.

  "I know I'm hard-headed, worse about some things than others. I don't – I can't – talk about the war. You could never understand."
/>
  June scooped the grass from her spring. Should she tell him what she had just seen?

  Better not, he might explode on her again.

  "I don't want to argue with you." She sighed. "It won't do any good."

  "This is a pretty little garden in the woods." Eric looked around at the young trees, the flowers and the round pool, lined with granite and marble.

  "It's so peaceful here."

  The silence calmed him – he leaned back on his elbows. She watched the tension ease out of him. This was a place of healing. Was he that wounded, she wondered, that the power in this place embraced him?

  "It’s a sacred place. I do my – rituals – here."

  "Magic spells?" He gave her a crooked, teasing smile.

  "Rituals." It was difficult for her to talk about, his teasing acceptance helped. "It isn't voodoo – it's about the natural cycles of the planet."

  "I did some research about Wicca, back in Cincinnati. I get the nature part. So what are the rituals like?"

  "I come out here, when the moon is right. I light candles, then I call the angels and cast a circle."

  "You call angels?"

  Did he have to sound so disbelieving?

  "Who did you think I would call?" June made a face, her hands in claws. "Ooooo, I'm calling the devil to do my evil bidding." She cackled a witchy laugh. Eric chuckled.

  "Okay – I'll behave," Eric tossed a twig at her. "Don't turn me into a frog – alright?"

  "No frogs," June promised with a grimace. "I wouldn't kiss one if you paid me in gold."

  Eric grinned at her. He plucked a long stem of grass – tapping it on her arm.

  "Wicca's about nature, the natural order of things – the turning of the seasons, birth, life and death."

  "What about – them?" He gestured back towards the house.

  "They're supposed to go over to the other side. They didn't, for whatever reason, so they're stuck. Nature doesn't like that. So maybe I have a chance to send them away."

  "Send them to hell?"

  He moved the tassel end up her arm. June brushed it away. He tickled her chin with it. Now he was flirting with her? She smiled at him – caught up in the languid moment.

  "If that is where they end up, it's on them. They are tied to the bike somehow. Maybe we can cleanse it. Maybe we have to destroy it."

  Oops, shouldn't have said that.

  "You are not going to destroy my motorcycle." Eric dropped the stem, sitting up.

  "I didn't say I wanted to," June reassured him.

  But he wasn't really listening; this was a knee-jerk reaction, she told herself. Or Cora was whispering in her ear. She regretted saying it – she enjoyed his flirting.

  "We start with you," June explained. "If Cora lets go of you, we can save the motorcycle."

  There was a crashing noise in the trees, breaking limbs and boyish laughter.

  "What was that?" Eric sat up, tense and watchful.

  "The Tackett boys." June sighed.

  "Let me think about this ritual." Eric rose to his feet and held out his hand. "Let's go back to the house."

  They talked about the ceremony while they worked in the garage. It was full dark before they finished. Eric didn't want her to be alone – but June didn't want him to stay. Not with what she'd seen in the pool. For the first time, she wasn't sure she trusted him.

  June walked him to the door, hugged him hard and said good night. She watched him leave from the window. There was nothing she could do but wait for him to decide.

  ~^~

  Eric walked out of June's house. It was late. They'd talked for hours about the ghosts and hashed out a plan for the cleansing ceremony. A sliver of moonlight struck his Hyabusa, a mix of reflection and shadow that taunted him with woman's form in a sexy pose. He tore his eyes away before Cora could distract him.

  At this point, he was willing to do anything to get rid of Jake and Cora.

  Days ago, June had come on to him with a red hot kiss he could still taste. The night at the Iroquois he'd held her, inhaled her scent while they danced. Before she left, she'd wrapped her arms around him, kissed him with passion and promise. They had kissed before he confronted Van Man Go, a deep soul-searing kiss that had healed his bruises. Those moments brought them closer, much closer, but even tonight after nearly being killed twice, she'd shown him the door.

  The chemistry between them drove him crazy. He wanted her, wanted to kiss her pliant mouth until she begged him to make love to her.

  Why did she hesitate? Why wouldn't she take him to bed?

  The question sent his mind spinning. Emotions he'd felt once before, when he found his wife cheating; inadequate, hurt and rejected. He'd been busy with his own problems had he missed the clues, again?

  She doesn't want you. Cora whispered, slithering from the shadows to rub against him. Her fingers made icy trails down his spine. There's someone else.

  Jake. What empty promises did Jake whisper in June's ears?

  You're all mine, lover. Cora chortled in his ear, playing with his hair, giving him cold chills. Eric ignored her, gritting his teeth.

  The DEA had trained Jake to be a professional liar, an undercover agent who used people, discarded them like so much trash. If there was a chance this ritual would get rid of Jake, he'd do it. He only hoped that it would work.

  It had to work.

  ~^~

  Chapter Fourteen

  October 13th

  At the plant, June parked in her usual spot. It was difficult to get out of the car and walk up to the door. She didn't want to go in; she wanted to run away and hide.

  The deep growl of an engine made her pause with her hand on the handle. Her breath caught in her throat. She flashed back to the night she cowered, trembling, in a ditch.

  A massive black-on-black SUV rumbled down the driveway. The driver's window was down. The driver flicked a cigarette out the window. She broke a sweat, straining for a glimpse of the man's face.

  Ryan Phillips didn't even glance at her as he drove to his usual parking place.

  June stood with her mouth open. She stared after the SUV – trying to put everything into some kind of perspective. It wouldn't go – it seemed her whole world had shifted off balance.

  Instinct demanded she bolt for cover. The only thing she knew to do was to go inside.

  In the accounting department, she scanned the room. She could hear the click of computer keyboards and smell the coffee brewing in the back. Her co-workers didn't look the same, more like caricatures of the people she knew. They all wore such masks – was anyone who they pretended to be? How was she going to work here, pretending nothing was wrong?

  As soon as she sat at her desk, she sensed something else was wrong. Her computer password wouldn't let her in. A pop-up directed her to contact the IT department for a new password. She was locked out of the system. June stared at the screen for a moment.

  Her phone rang.

  "Hello?" June reined in her emotions. No matter what happened, she would not show fear.

  "Can you come to my office for minute?" It was Martin – the Human Resources Manager. An invitation to his office was a very bad sign. He left everything to his assistant, except firing people. That he always did himself.

  "Okay." June set the phone down very carefully. She felt fragile, like she might crack wide open if someone touched her or if she accidentally brushed against the wall of her cube.

  They know – they know that I know, so do I show that I know that they know? Oh, no. She thought with bitter humor – if I follow this train of thought, I'm going to lose my mind as well as my job.

  Keep your head on straight, don't argue, don't even speak, Jake whispered in her ear. Let them do the talking. We'll get even with these bastards later.

  She walked into Martin's office – he greeted her pleasantly. There was a folder on his desk next to an employee manual. His shaved head was shiny, he was wearing his jacket. His bland features showed no emotion.

  She t
ook a deep breath – felt the cold light inside her but pushed it away. It wouldn't help her here. All it would do was keep Jake away when she needed him.

  You'll be safe once you're out of here.

  Safe? This was just the tip of the iceberg. How could she pay her bills or heat her house without a paycheck? Her eyes flickered from Martin to his desk, to the wall and back. Her heart pounded in her throat.

  "Please have a seat." Martin pulled a sheet of paper from the file – her file – handing it to her with hard eyes. "This is our Employee Internet Agreement. You signed it when you started working here."

  June took the sheet of paper, glanced at it without seeing it. Was this her reward for helping Eric?

  "I remember." June was puzzled. Had they nailed her for her e-Bay account? A dozen people had them and checked their accounts regularly. She'd consulted with all of them at one time or another, during work hours; no one said a word. Could she fight this somehow?

  Don't be a fool, just keep quiet.

  "The IT department ran a scan the other day – your computer is in violation of the Acceptable Usage clause of the Employee Handbook." He wore a poker face that gave away nothing.

  "What?"

  "You downloaded a video off You-Tube on…" he rattled off a date and a time, "with pornographic content." His lips curved very slightly.

  "I did?"

  "This says it was a video of a woman stripping." His raised eyebrow accused her of blatant homosexuality.

  Did he mean Cora's video clip?

  "This is ridiculous!" So her moment of temptation was going to be her downfall.

  "This is not up for debate." Martin raised his right hand. "We have a one-strike policy on pornography." His left hand slid out of sight.

  "Tiffany shows more skin!"

  Rumor had it there was a panic button under his desk. Was he going to call Security?

  They are counting on you to make a scene. Don't give them the satisfaction.

  She wouldn't, but it was so hard to take this without shouting, 'I know what's really going on here.'

  Do that and they will kill you.

  "We have to let you go," Martin said, keeping his left hand out of sight. He slid another sheet of paper to her. "You need to sign this."