Free Moon Child (Vampire for Hire #4) by J.R. Rain Page A

and most of his teen years. Childish insults, mostly,
but with such ferocity and frequency that he came to believe he was
vampire.
    In an act of passion and violence, his
teenage girlfriend had ended up dead and Fang had gone on to have
one of the most memorable trials to date. O.J. Simpson with teeth,
as some called it.
    Later, Fang would escape a high-security
insane asylum...and kill two guards in the process. His whereabouts
were presently unknown to law enforcement, a secret he had
entrusted to me, much as I had entrusted one to him.
    We all have our secrets.
    Fang, or Aaron Parker, had never lost his
passion for vampires, even when his two massive canine teeth had
been gruesomely removed in the insane asylum—teeth that now hung
around his neck to this day. Six years of online chatting and one
bang-up job of stalking on his part later, and here we were.
Friends with issues. Friends with secrets. But most
important...friends.
    His request had caught me off guard, and I
would consider it later, but for now I could only think about my
son. He understood this, of course, which wasn’t hard to do since
he was powerfully and psychically connected to me.
    He grinned at that last line of thought. “I
can think of no other person I would rather be powerfully and
psychically attached to, Moon Dance,” he said, using my old chat
room username.
    “You’ve been reading my thoughts,” I
said.
    “It’s not like I can help it,” said Fang.
“So, from what I gather, you don’t find me such a bad guy.”
    “No,” I said. “But you have your issues.
Scary issues.”
    “I could say the same thing about you.”
    “Touché,” I said, although I thought his
comparison wasn’t quite fair. I had never asked for any of
this.
    “And neither had I,” said Fang, picking up on
my thoughts.
    “Victims of circumstance, you had said.”
    “Something like that,” said Fang. “We are
what we are.”
    “Fine,” I said. “But be discreet with your
inquiries.”
    “Of course,” he said.
    I thought of my son. I didn’t have to check
my watch to know that the sun would be setting in a few hours. I
seemed chrono-kinetically attuned to the sun. Soon, Anthony would
be waking up after sleeping through his first day. I wanted to be
there for him.
    “Chrono-kinetically?” said Fang, picking up
my thoughts.
    “It works,” I said.
    He grinned. “Hey, it just occurred to me that
you might want to take a look at Cal State Fullerton’s
library.”
    “Why?”
    “Apparently they’ve got quite an occult
department there. You know, books. Real books. With paper and dust
and ink. A guy was just in here going on and on about their
extensive collection.”
    “What guy?”
    “Young guy.”
    “Maybe,” I said, standing, leaving my wine
half-finished. Always the pessimist these days.
    “Where to now?” he asked.
    I thought about it. I had a few hours before
Anthony awakened. I said, “I need to beat the shit out of
something.”
     
     
     

Chapter Twenty-three
     
     
    I was at my gym with my trainer.
    By “gym” I meant my boxing studio. By
“trainer” I meant the little old Irish guy named Jacky who talked
like a leprechaun.
    “Hands up, lass. Up, up!”
    “Go to hell,” I grunted, as I lifted my heavy
hands. Vampire or not, I was nearly mortal during the day, and my
hands felt like lead, especially after going through a few rounds
on the heavy bag.
    But even though sunset was still under two
hours away, I had more than enough strength to hit the bag hard
enough to rock the little trainer. He grunted through the
shockwaves, screaming at me to keep my hands up even as he
struggled to hold onto the bag.
    “End round!” he shouted, just as I leveled
another hard roundhouse. Unfortunately, the Irishman had let his
guard down just enough. The punch, although mostly absorbed by the
heavy bag, sent him staggering backwards.
    “You okay, Jacky?” I cried out, moving over
to him and catching him just as he stumbled over my gym