Blood on the Moon - serialised EXCLUSIVE for Steemit! - 95

Blood On The Moon Cover

Amazon link

My third novel was finished and published in time for Halloween 2016 and I had a launch at Waterstone's at Sheffield.

The full book cover, done by the wonderful, talented, brilliant Paul Mudie

Other Images from Pixabay or Google (Free Usage)

To read from the beginning: Here

Then change the number in the address bar from 1 to 2 (https://steemit.com/writing/@michelle.gent/blood-on-the-moon-serialised-exclusive-for-steemit-2) and so on for the next episodes.

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Red stopped, thought some more, and altered the course of the conversation.

“Why hasn’t Darius done anything with the information that the bloke across the road is passing to him?”

“How do you know he’s receiving the information?”

“What?”

“Paul was the one that collected and collated the information; he’s been ‘losing’ it in transition. Darius has never found out anything about you.”

“So is Paul still collecting the information?”

“So far, yes. Now that Darius knows he’s a traitor to him, I don’t think it will be long before he begins to tidy up the affairs where Paul was concerned and starts to figure out that ‘Nothing to report’ meant nothing of the kind.”

“So I have a valid excuse to kill the nosey old bastard?”

Anton smiled and Red smiled with him.

The motto she lived by was “Don’t shit where you sleep” – in other words, she never did anything close enough to home that she could be under scrutiny for but this time it was different.

She had to protect her anonymity.

Red went up the stairs to the small bedroom on the front of the house next to her bedroom.

The curtains were open and it was growing dark.

She turned off the stairs light – that was a mistake she had seen him make so she wasn’t about to make the same one.

She stood back from the window and looked out and to her surprise, she saw him wandering around her car.

She couldn’t be certain but she thought that perhaps he was scratching the paintwork.

He was walking in a false nonchalant gait and looking inside the windows as he went.

She wanted to knock on her window to see what he would do but she waited patiently.

Then the scene was lit up by a brilliant light for a split second and she realised that Anton must have taken a photo.

The effect was the one she had been tempted to go for in that he did jump out of his skin and he dropped something on the road at the side of the car.

Red rushed down the stairs faster than he could retreat and she ran up his next door neighbour’s path, over the adjoining fence and caught hold of him by the arm just as he reached his back door.

He wasn’t expecting a confrontation and he raised his other hand as if to strike her and she saw the measure of the man then.

He thought nothing of hitting a woman and she snarled at him as she pushed him away from the door so she could deal with him.

Anton went out to retrieve the object he’d dropped and he pocketed it and went back inside to await Red’s guests for the meeting.

Red heard Anton and took a look around her to ensure that no other houses were able to overlook the rear of his property and no-one could see what she was doing.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” he yelled at her.

His wife opened the door but closed it again as Red looked at her and snarled a vicious and toothy warning.

If she went inside to call the police, Red would have limited time to kill and dispose of the body, plus his wife had seen her man-handling him but it was highly unlikely that any other neighbours had seen the scuffle.

Her only other option was to make sure he was disposed of by other means and other persons.

The back of his yard was enclosed by large and leafy trees and though autumn was upon them, the branches were still dense enough to obscure the view and the leaves that were clinging on stubbornly would help her cause.

Red put her back to his wall so that his wife couldn’t see and she changed her face for him.

She held him at arm’s length and he watched with eyes wide in terror as the front of her face pushed out towards him.

She took a leaf out of Jervais Marchand’s book and had practiced and studied effects she could perform and she put that practice to great effect.

Even as she heard police sirens approaching, she inflicted her own brand of psychological terrorism on him.

Her face was split from side to side by the gaping maw of her Wolfen mouth but because the sides of her head weren’t altering, the result of the change was far beyond horrific.

It seemed like she really had split her head and his face mirrored hers in the fact that his mouth gaped in a silent scream of sheer terror.

Then she altered it again and her eyes changed to their preternatural yellow and her brow became sloped even as he watched.

The features on her skull moved and twisted in a macabre dance and then, at last, she heard car doors bang as the police arrived, and she changed her face to full Wolf and snapped at his face, missing it by millimetres.

Red saw what she had been waiting for.

His eyes rolled up into his head, his jaw went slack and he began gibbering.

One mind, snapped to order.