Blood Moon

“Please, can you find our son?”

The couple on the other side of Mel had been crying for days based on the red-rimmed eyes staring back at her. They weren’t wearing anything with designer labels like past clients who were desperate for anything they could use in the divorce. A nice, normal family. At least on the surface.

Melanie Carmody, private investigator of fifteen years, wanted nothing more than to take her vape from its charger in her desk drawer and take a long intake of its customized contents. Sure, cigarettes had been in her rearview for five years, but the hint of wolfsbane in her new vice was nearly as addictive as nicotine.

She was nearing forty and looked it. She could dye out the gray hairs in her natural, mousy curls, but never saw the point. Her hard-earned crow’s feet framed her tarnished silver eyes as she took in the photo of a smiling teenager on her desk. Glancing at her lithe body no one would expect her to be able to down several burgers the morning after a full moon. Too bad hunting season won’t come for another month. No chance of stocking up on wild meats for her primal appetite until then.

“So,” Mel prompted, hands folded on top of the file her secretary handed her earlier, “what can you tell me about your son?”

She already looked over the file, but the clinical aspect of police reports doesn’t show the nuances of a person. Hobbies, likes, dislikes, hidden motivations.

 The woman, her hair unwashed and blouse stained with tears, spoke first.

“He’s sixteen, a bit rebellious, but a good boy. He’s been skipping school, arguing with us over trivial things, but he’s never run away before. Just locked himself in his room until dinner.”

Mel nodded before making a note on her notepad

“Are you familiar with any of his friends?”

“Sort of” replied the husband. “We’re friends with their parents, so we assumed our kids were, too. None of them have criminal records, at least.”

Another note.

 “You mentioned skipping school. Do you have any idea where he goes during that time?”

Before the mother could reply, a barely out of high school boy with a crooked tie peaked his head into the office.

“Boss, you have a call on the line.”

“Tell them I’m busy, I’m with clients.”

“It’s your ex-husband.”

“Which one?”

Her secretary’s mouth nearly formed the words you can’t say in front of a client you’re not sure will handle certain info. The human one.

“The one with the kid.”

Mel sighed before excusing herself to the clients, pressing a button on her desk phone as she answered the call. She could dismiss the parents, but calls like this one didn’t take long.

“What did she do now?” No need for pleasantries, not with Bill.

 “Tried to take him out of school, again.” The husky voice on the other line brought back memories she wished she could forget, or return to.

“Isn’t it a test day?”

“Try telling her that. Derek refused to leave, so she made a scene in the office. He’s asking if he can stay with you for a bit. He doesn’t trust her not to come over.”

“Sure, if he still has his key. Just remind him of the rules, ok?”

“Thanks, Mel.”

She ended the call, turning her attention back to the clients. If they had questions, they didn’t ask them.

When the clients leave, Mel nearly breaks her vape trying to use it. It’s days like this when she hated being a werewolf.

Mel was married three times: the first was an elopement at nineteen with a honeymoon at their favorite camping spot. He was eaten, she was bitten. The second was to another werewolf, but thanks to a life-saving surgery requiring a hysterectomy, that marriage ended in disaster. Bill was her third, a human who didn’t have a problem with her lycanthropy, and she didn’t have an issue with his son from a previous marriage. His ex, Derek’s mom, kept her opinions on their relationship to herself until the wedding. She made sure their lives were hell until the divorce, and even after. At least that time there was a prenup.

Derek still sees her as a part of the family, no matter how much his own mother lamented to anyone who would listen. He had a spare key to her apartment whenever he was having trouble with his parents. He’s not a bad kid, but he was the reason she had her alcohol next to her silver-lined cage.

The drive to her home was short and boring. The radio played nothing but talking people and annoying excuses for music that the kids these days probably liked. Her passenger seat was covered in fast food wrappers she had yet to throw away. There hadn’t been a need for her to drive with anyone else for a very long time.

When she entered her house, Derek was fast asleep on her couch as the television showed a sports game. From her vantagepoint, her kitchen was immaculate, no doubt cleaned by Derek in a fit of frustration. At least he kept the meat in the fridge untouched.

Supper for two was ready by the time he wakes up.

“Hey, Aunt Mel,” he yawned while rubbing his eyes before he rose from the couch to sit down across from her at the dinner table.

“Hey, kid. Heard about your mom.”

“Dad?”

“Yep.”

The pair ate a meal for four, only exchanging small talk before Mel got to the heart of the matter. Derek was about the missing kid’s age, and according to the files, they went to the same school. Even if the two weren’t close, there has to be rumors the adults don’t know about. One good thing about being the “cool aunt” after the divorce.

“There’s a kid missing, Derek. His parents asked me for help. You know him?”

Derek finished his bite of beef and pasta before speaking.

“Carlos? Yeah, kind of. We’ve hung out before. At the old park.”

An abandoned park from decades ago, one now shrouded by trees and decaying buildings. The closest the city had to a public space without children or hovering parents, so the teens flocked to it like moths desperate for light.

 “What exactly do you do?”

“Promise not to tell Dad.”

“Depends on how grounded you’ll be if I do.”

“There’re a few older people who come over at night. They bring beer and cigarettes since Mason lost his fake ID. They’re kind of weird, but they ‘like to hear us talk’ and stuff.”

Mel’s blood turned to rivers of ice.

“Derek, that’s vamp territory. You’re getting free booze from someone who’s shopping for blood bags!”

Derek’s already pale face drained completely of blood as if he’d already become a living food source. His fork of food clattered onto his half-finished plate. She could practically see the nightmarish thoughts running through his mind about what could be happening to Carlos. She told him stories about the world she lives in, with Bill’s approval. She wanted to keep him safe from the worst it could offer, and now it revealed itself.

Mel had seen enough of vampires over the years, mostly their carnage. Most live in groups, adapt to human society, and take only the blood they need from those who won’t notice or from willing participants. “Vamps” as Mel called them hunt alone or with likeminded of their kin, savage in their work and uncaring of who they choose as prey. Their victims can last for hours or years depending on the sadism. Carlos could already be six feet unground by now or imprisoned somewhere miles away.

“They hunt at night,” Mel thought aloud, leaving the rest of her plate untouched as she grabbed her phone from her purse. “I’ll have to make some calls. You’ll have to head back to your dad for tonight. It’s safer this way.”

Derek didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing his backpack and rushing out the door without locking it behind him.

She’ll have to warn Bill that Derek will be smelling like garlic for the next month.

###

When the sun set behind the surrounding mountains, Mel drove to the empty parking lot where once parents brought their children to exercise their lungs and legs, now near the vamp’s border. Attempts had been made to capture or cull them in the past, but they always seemed to pop back up. She didn’t expect to solve the problem once and for all. She just wanted to give closure to her clients and earn her pay. If the kid waws alive, luck would be on their side.

She exited the car once she was certain no one normal was around to catch her snooping around. Derek texted her earlier that he warned his little group not to show up, careful to mention cops and not blood-sucking murderers. He was less grounded than expected.

Mel’s shoulder bag was heavy with wooden stakes and blessed items from the nearest church that didn’t ask too many questions. She sniffed the air for the scent of death and spilled blood. Just a hint of it to her left.

Mel was careful not to step on branches as she followed the trail to the now rusty and broken structure where children used to play. Twisting vines surround what once was the restroom area, its walls cracked with age and who knows how many violent acts. The inside reeked of mold and a familiar red liquid. In one far corner, hidden by a stall door and an old toilet was a dark hole big enough for a large person to fit through.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness when she reached the other side, covered in dirt and grime but her supplies were unaffected. Blood assaulted her senses as well as the cavernous walls. Sloppy, typical of vamps. Furnishing was sparce: five old mattresses lining the far end of the makeshift room, containers likely filled with bloodletting tools, blood bags chilled to perfection, and whatever a vamp’s excuse for cutlery is. Finding Carlos only took a few steps and a glance at the left cavern wall. He was alive, unconscious, and in desperate need of a shower.

She checked the air once more. No vamps close by. They might be hunting for more prey. They could come back once they realize their usual marks were gone.

There was no fighting vamps for their living blood supply, but getting Carlos out of his prison and into the night air felt like one to Mel. By the time they were safely outside, both were filthy with enough grime and coagulating blood to make a normal human nauseous. Carrying the boy over her shoulder, she rushed back to her car, practically throwing him in the back seat before racing for the driver’s side. The scent of decay reached her the second she shut the door.

The car’s engine starting up cut through the silence, bringing forth a screech from the woods. Mel didn’t have much time before the vamps caught up. She regretted not dousing the car in holy water before she left. Still, she reversed out of the parking space with reckless abandon, driving into the empty road before flashes of pale faces burst out of the darkness, fangs flashing against the car’s lights.

When she reached the familiar path home Mel let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Carlos stirred from his place in the backseat. He’d panic when he woke up, no doubt screaming from memories and asking where he was, what happened to him, the usual.

How was she going to explain this to his parents?