In Moonlight - Ch 6 - So, Let Me Tell You...

"So, let me tell you what happened after you guys left last night," Missy said. 

The sales floor at S-Mart was quiet at the moment and Rotten Josh, the store manager, was nowhere in sight. Mary took a quick look around anyway. She didn't want to get barked at. Not because she was intimidated by a middle aged, overweight man with a nametag and delusions of power, Mary reflected. More because she was still feeling a little too 'Mariah' to take Josh's attitude without responding in a way that might risk blowing her cover. 

"Sorry we ran out like that," Mary replied. "Mandy wasn't feeling well."

"She did look kinda upset," Missy said. "Anyway, it's OK. Clay and I stayed with Knox."

"Actually, he and Clay got into a big argument about Evergreen Development," Missy continued.

"Well, Clay did kind of ask for that," Mary chuckled. "I mean, he did try to distract Knox by asking him about 'evil developers.'" 

"... and Knox went right into this whole thing about protected lands, shady deals, crooked politicians and stuff like that," Missy chuckled. "Of course then Clay went into his whole thing about investment and jobs and hard-working people. They really got into it."

"OK, I'm sorry but I'm glad we left when we did," Mary chuckled.

"I know, right," Missy laughed. "And there I was, trying to play peacemaker. I swear, at one point it got so bad I told them if they really wanted to settle things, they should just whip out their peckers and compare."

"Cavoli! No way. You didn't say that?" Mary laughed. 

"I did," Missy grinned. "You know, your accent gets thicker sometimes."

"Really, I never noticed," Mary said, cursing inwardly. "Anyway, they didn't... did they?"

"Of course not," Missy grinned. "Not that it would have settled anything, really. They're about the same."

"You know this for a fact, do you?" Mary blinked, reflecting that Missy might at that. 

The vivacious redhead was notorious in the neighborhood for considering casual sex roughly the same as a hug, just a nice thing between friends. When they had first become friends Mary had made it very clear that she wasn't a hugger... or anything more. She was pleased that Missy had accepted that with the same relaxed good cheer she seemed to do everything else.

"I mean, I haven't done a side-by-side comparison or anything, but..." Missy glanced down at her hands, making a gesture that had Mary biting her lip not to laugh out loud. "Yeah, about the same."

"I did not need to know that," Mary said firmly.

-----------

"Home, sweet home," Mary said softly.

Apart from gossip with Missy, work had been uneventful. Annoying but uneventful. Mary had passed the time, as she did most days, trying to quietly analyze the customers. Someday, she hoped to put her psychology degree to real use, maybe doing social work. Sadly, it just wasn't something she could safely do while hiding out.

Still, hiding out wasn't all bad. The little house she and Mandy rented was nice. Paying bills was a new experience for both of them. Mary, at least, had some experience with living on modest means. Mandy, though she'd never been snobbish or thoughtless about it, had grown up never needing to think about money. She was still adjusting to the idea of a grocery budget. Mary smiled at the memory of watching her wife trying to navigate S-Mart's grocery aisle for the first time.

The living room was cramped and the furniture was simple, cheap and mostly supplied by S-Mart again. We're getting a lot mileage out of my employee discount, Mary thought.

Music wailed loudly from the stereo, a lone violin like a mournful ghost, slow and sorrowful but already building toward a howling fury. Mary recognized the solo from "Lost In Nightmare," a song from Cassie Goth's album Haunted. In Mary's personal opinion it was one of the Raven Witch's best, but also most painful, songs. Not everyone appreciated Haunted. 

Being Mandy had freed her wife to finally really embrace Cassie Goth's music, something she had never been entirely willing to do as Cassie's daughter Miranda. 

"Mandy, are you home?" Mary called and added half to herself, "Or did you leave the stereo on again?"

"Upstairs," Mandy called back.

"OK, that explains why I could practically hear your music from work," Mary teased as she started toward the stairs.

No reply came, but Mary wasn't sure Mandy had heard her anyway. Loud music and short responses usually meant her wife was focused on something. Haunted was an unusual choice for Mandy, but it fit with the brooding mood she'd been in when Mary left for work this morning. 

Putting on a smile, Mary headed for the stairs.

Mary found her wife right where she expected to, sitting at the little table in the bedroom they used as a desk, laser-focused on the laptop.

"Hey, what's got you blasting the Raven Witch at the neighbors?" Mary asked brightly.

"Our nearest neighbors are a vacant lot and a busy street," Mandy pointed out curtly, not looking up. "I don't think they'll mind."

"Si, OK," Mary said more gently. It wasn't like Mandy... No, it wasn't like Miranda to be so short with her. "So, what are you working on?"

"I'm trying to find out more about Shannon's murder," Miranda answered.

Kicking herself for not realizing how deeply bothered Miranda was by the news of her old school friend's death, Mary... no, she needed to be Mariah now... stepped into their shared room. Even as the door swung shut behind her, she could still hear the music of Cassie Goth's grief, pain and rage wailing from the floor below.

"But there's nothing!" Miranda continued, visibly frustrated. "One short article in the Windenburg News. That's it! A woman was murdered on the streets of Windenburg, and it hardly rates a mention! Seriously?"

"What does the article say?"

"Shannon Charm, 21, was killed during a mugging in Gesellschafter Square," Miranda read. "National police are pursuing all leads, but confidential sources close to the investigation say that the police believe the murder is connected to a gang of local ruffians. Like I said, nothing." 

"What did you expect to find?" Mariah asked softly.

"More. Something," Miranda groaned. "I don't know. Something to tell me if this was really just random gang violence."

"It could be," Mariah suggested.

"It's not. There's something more going on here," Miranda said with absolute conviction. "I know it. I can feel it... Goddess, I feel like I'm 16 again, hiding out in Moonwood Mill and just wishing I could talk to mom or to Gwen. I do wish I could talk to mom or Gwen. They'll know more about this. I'm sure of it. Gwen knows the Charm family."

"Why don't you?" Mariah asked. "I mean, I know we can't call them. Even with the Altos' leadership being rounded up by the police, it's still too risky for us to contact people we know right now. At least, not in the usual ways... but you have some unusual ways, mia amata. That little fairy friend of yours... what's her name? Tinkerbell?"

"Bluebell," Miranda corrected. "I can't summon her. She might be seen."

"I don't think our non-existent neighbors, or people walking by the street, would even believe they saw a real fairy flying through our window," Mariah pointed out.

"It's not our neighbors I'm worried about. Not directly anyway," Miranda said. "But Evergreen Harbor is big enough to have a vampire nest. If the wrong person sees Bluebell and word reaches the vampires, the Dark Court could track us down. The Altos would be the least of our worries."

"Right," Mariah sighed.

It wasn't enough that they were hiding out from gangsters. They were also hiding from the secret power behind the gangsters - the Dark Court. 

The secret society of vampires and their minions lurked in the shadows, hiding, hunting and waging their centuries-old blood feud with the equally secret society of witches. 

When they'd first met, Mariah had only half-believed Miranda's stories of the war between vampires and witches that threatened her and her family. She had never imagined that her own life had already been defined by that war. That her own father had been killed in it, an almost incidental casualty in a power struggle between vampire factions.

How many others, she wondered as she looked out the window at the street below. How many people had lost a loved one? How many children had lost a parent? All just collateral damage of a war they didn't even know was going on around them?

The more she thought about it, the more she understood why Miranda needed to know what was going on.

In Moonlight - Ch 5 - Playing Spy

It's OK, Jenny Poole thought as she set out on her morning jog.

So what if I've lost The Urbz, she thought. I've lost parts before. I can get another part. People know my name. I was Babette! I was engaged to famous heart throb Christian Harp. OK for, like, five minutes but it made all the gossip shows! Besides, I'm dating Orange Bailey-Moon now. 

Hell, she thought, I helped to bring down the Alto family... and that wasn't even a scripted drama. That was real life! 

I'm Jenny Poole, she smiled to herself. I'm good at playing a role and at playing spy! 

"Excuse me, Ms. Poole," a woman called from the side of the jogging path.

Slowing, Jenny put on her best 'for the fans' smile. 

She wasn't interrupted on her morning jog that often, mostly because the park was almost always empty this early in the morning. Usually she just saw a couple of other early joggers, focused on their own morning workouts. Her fans would probably be shocked to learn that Jenny Poole, party girl, was up before dawn most days. People didn't understand the kind of hours shooting a daytime drama demanded. 

Still, this woman could be a fan. A creepy fan in a black trench coat and shades. A creepy fan in a black trench coat and shades who looked oddly familiar.

"Hi," Jenny said cheerfully. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Candice Barnett." The woman said smoothly.

"Oh," Jenny's eyes widened. "You've changed your... everything."

The last time Jenny had met Candice Barnett, the other woman had looked, and sounded, very different. Candi, as she'd called herself then, had been the ditzy blonde mistress of crime boss Marco Tennari. In reality Candice was a real-life secret agent who had infiltrated the inner circle of the Alto crime family. 

When Jenny and Genie had been caught sneaking around the Altos' penthouse, it had been Candi who had rescued them from the clutches of Marco's second in command, the terrifying Mr. Grey. Jenny still had nightmares featuring Mr. Grey's cold, dispassionate voice explaining his ruthless plans to murder her and her friend. 

"Costume changes are something our professions have in common," Candice said with a sardonic smirk.

"So, I'm guessing you're not just randomly standing around next to the jogging path at 6:00 AM," Jenny said. Candice wasn't the only hot blonde who also had a brain in her head, Jenny thought. "And I'm guessing you're not going to ask for my autograph."

"Sadly, no," Candice nodded. "Do you know what your friend, Genie, is doing right now?"

"She's out of town," Jenny said carefully. "She had a family thing."

"A family thing that, for some reason, has her pulling every available news article about a fatal mugging in Windenburg," Candice said coolly. "That also has her trying to get access to confidential police records regarding that same killing."

"Well, you know, Genie's got a complicated family," Jenny replied. Good God does she have a complicated family, she added inwardly. 

"Yes, she does," Candice said, her voice dry enough to make Jenny feel like reaching for moisturizer. 

The two women looked at each other for a long moment. 

"Your friend is investigating something that certain people don't want investigated," Candice said at last. "Powerful people." 

"And you want her to stop?" Jenny snorted.

"No," Candice replied firmly. "I want her to keep digging. If I could, I'd investigate it myself, but the Agency has been specifically told that this matter is the jurisdiction of the National Police. We have been ordered to stay out of it. Normally, that would be reason enough to for me to be assigned to the case but, as I said, powerful people are blocking the investigation."

"So you want us to look into it, because you can't," Jenny said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

"You should take this seriously, Ms. Poole. You are, once again, getting involved in something that could be very dangerous. This kind of work comes with risks," Candice said, slowly removing her shades. 

"Oh my God!" Jenny gasped. "Your eye!"

"When we last met, I believed that my disguise as ditzy bimbo Candi would be enough to cover my involvement in your escape. I was wrong," Candice said. "Mr. Grey was not convinced. He said that either I saw more than I claimed... or, I was so unobservant that I wouldn't miss the eye."

"Oh my God," Jenny breathed again.

"Take this seriously, Ms. Poole," Candice repeated. "I may not be there to save you this time."

"You can still walk away from this," Candice continued, a little more gently, as she slipped her shades back on. "Genie's investigation will be blocked, but that complicated family of hers should protect her if she doesn't press the matter."

"... and the mysterious and powerful bad guys get away with it," Jenny said, shaking her head. "Genie won't stop. Once she's got an idea in her head, she won't stop. What do you need me to do?"

"This has the police files Genie can't get on her own," Candice said, pressing a memory stick into Jenny's hand. "Make sure she gets it... and make sure she understands the seriousness of the situation. If you both decide to walk away, do it. If you keep investigating... I'll be in touch."

Watching the other woman walk away, Jenny took a deep breath and tucked the memory stick safely into her pocket. 

Playing spy always sounded more fun that it actually was, she reflected.

--------------

By afternoon, Jenny was in Windenburg. It always amazed her how the trains could get her from the City to almost anywhere else in the Republic, quickly, easily and comfortably.

From the train station it was a short hike to the pier and the ferry across the bay from Windenburg proper to the Crumbling Isle. Jenny never understood the name. The island certainly didn't seem to be crumbling, and the mansions of the wealthy aristocratic families that lived there were all well kept. 

I not will let Genie see that I'm impressed with the Elderberrys' stately old home, she told herself. After all, I've partied at some of the most glamorous mansions in Del Sol Valley, and I'll bet the Elderberrys' doesn't even have a golden toilet.

The door was answered by a butler. An honest-to-God butler. Not impressed, Jenny told herself. She vaguely remembered Genie mentioning him before. What has his name? Thomas? Richards? Henry?

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the butler asked formally.

"Yes, please let Ms. Genie Elderberry know that Ms. Jenny Poole is here to see her," Jenny replied, calling up the attitude she'd used when auditioning for a guest spot on Dignity and Decorum. Even though they'd passed on her, she felt she'd nailed the character. 

"Of course, Ms. Poole." The butler's nod was almost a bow. "If you would wait here a moment."

"If you would come with me, Ms. Poole," the butler said when he returned a few minutes later. "Ms. Genevieve is staying in the Guest House. I will escort you."

"Sure... I mean, very good," Jenny said.

OK, she thought, Genie's family has a mansion full of fancy art, a swimming pool that could hold a small yacht, and a guest house bigger than my dad's hardware store. Maybe I can act a little impressed. 

Also, she thought, her butler has a seriously cute butt. He's, like, the butt-ler. 

"Jenny, hi," Genie greeted her warmly.

"Hey, so... first thing, I gotta admit it. The house. I mean the whole 'estate' thing. Wow. Like, wow," Jenny stammered out in a rush. "Also your butler has a really cute butt. I mean, you could bounce a quarter off that man's ass."

"Umm... thanks and also eww," Genie chuckled. "Jenny, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, you will not believe this... or, you know, maybe you will," Jenny said. "Anyway, let me tell you what happened..."

In Moonlight - Ch 4 - Something More

"I told you once already Cletus, I ain't interested in sellin'," Kurt 'Lumber' Jackson said firmly. "The way you keep on about it makes a fella think you got somethin' more goin' on."

Not that Kurt particularly cared what Cletus might have in mind. The Jackson family had lived on the edges of the Moonwood since before the Revolution. If Kurt's generation of that family lived in a beat-up old cabin, well now there had been plenty of hard times to go with the good ones over all those years. Maybe the Jacksons weren't a grand family, in a grand house, but what they had was theirs and so was the land it sat on. That was enough for Kurt.

"Don't try to be clever, Kurt," Cletus Harris snapped.

"Never figured myself for clever, Cletus," Kurt scoffed. "But I got the brains God gave me and the good sense to use 'em. You might try it sometime." 

"Well use your brains on this," Cletus snarled. "I'm makin' you a fair offer on this land... and you're gonna sell. You can do it today or you can do it tomorra' after maybe some'tin happens. Then maybe this land don't fetch quite as nice a price as I'm offerin' now."

"You threatenin' me, Cletus?" Kurt asked hotly. "You mean to say you're comin' all the way up from the Harbor, to try 'n bully me into sellin' our land?"

"There now, you're gettin' it," Cletus said evilly. "And you sayin' you ain't a clever man."

"Where 're you even gettin' that kind of money?" Kurt asked. "You ain't gonna tell me you got all that rich, not even with you sellin' meth."

"Oh, I got plenty o' money," Cletus sneered. "I'm offerin' you a good deal... and I'm givin' you one last chance, here 'n now, to say yes. If I gotta come back..."

"You ain't comin' back up here 'n makin' any trouble for anyone, Cletus," Kurt said confidently.

"Who's gonna stop me?" Cletus grinned back. "You?"

"Nope," Kurt smiled. "Hey, there Rory. Lou, Demarco, Etta."

"Hey, Kurt. Hey, Cletus." Rory Oaklow smiled at Cletus, and only a fool would mistake the powerfully built woman's smile for anything but the feral baring of teeth it was. "Is there a problem here?"

"Well, Rory, I'm thinkin' there might be," Kurt said. Rory hadn't always been the easiest neighbor to have, he reflected, but by God, she was a good one to have on your side.

"This ain't your business, Rory," Cletus said firmly.

"It's my people," Rory said passionately. "My town. My mountain. That makes it my business. Wildfang business. You don't mess with Wildfang business, Cletus."

"No, Rory, you don't mess with my business. Not anymore," Cletus snarled.

"Cletus, Cletus, Cletus. I'm sure we talked about this the last time your boys tried to build one of your meth labs in my territory," Rory said, her voice lowering into a growl. "You remember... the fire, the explosion. Those boys you sent up afterward ending up in the hospital. My brother Jake insisted on that, you know. Those boys owe him a 'thank you.' Me, I would have left them in the woods... for the wolves."

"You don't know who you're messing with, Rory," Cletus blustered.

"But you do," Rory snarled, something feral and dangerous showing itself in every line of her powerful body. "You know exactly who you're messing with. So... Get The Hell Off My Mountain!"

"Thanks Rory," Kurt said, breathing a sigh of relief as he watched Cletus and his boy Jed hightailing it away. No sir, he thought again, werewolves don't always make for easy neighbors, but by God he was good to have them on his side.

"It's what we're here for," Rory said proudly. "Lou, Demarco... make sure those boys make it back to their car and don't cause any more trouble."

"Yes, ma'am," Lou smiled. "I love it when she gets bossy."

"I know," tawny-haired Demarco grinned. 

"The trailer has thin walls," fair-haired Etta added in dry tones.

"Go," Rory chuckled.

---------------------

Grimtooth's was the closest thing to a bar in the town of Moonwood Mill. Along with the library, it was the unofficial, official meeting place for the town. It was a sensible place to meet, especially because Rory had been hungry. To Demarco's thinking, a hungry Rory was to be avoided at the best of times. After their run-in with Cletus, Rory had been craving meat, the bloodier the better. She was plainly in a better mood after having scarfed down one of Celene's rare hamburgers.

"It's not just you, Kurt," Jake Volkov, young leader of the Moonwood Collective, said.

If anyone could seriously challenge Rory's claim that it was her town, her mountain, it was Jake. The two had been raised as brother and sister by the legendary Kristopher Volkov, who had been the leader of the little mountain community for longer than any living person could remember. As Kristopher's heirs, they were now, with his passing, considered the new leaders. Demarco was very aware that the balance between them was a delicate one.

"Someone's trying to buy up land on the mountain," Jake continued. "Mostly around the edges of the Moonwood."

"And whoever they are, they're using Cletus and his boys to put pressure on people who aren't likely to sell," Rory added.

"Why?" Demarco wondered out loud. "I mean, this is pretty country. I love living here... but it's not like prime development land. Isn't the Moonwood protected... like, National Trust land?"

"It is," Kurt nodded. "You wouldn't believe the paperwork you have to deal with to get a huntin' license."

Demarco chuckled. She was surprised Kurt ever bothered with getting a hunting license. She, Rory and Lou certainly didn't... though that was a little different.

"Why is a good question," Rory said seriously. "Who is a better one. We need to figure out who Cletus is working for."

"Sounds like a job for us," Etta said, glancing over at Demarco.

This, she thought, was part of the balance that had been agreed between Jake and Rory. Jake's Collective managed things within the town of Moonwood Mill and handled relations with the surrounding communities. Rory and the Wildfangs, who included Demarco, protected the borders of their shared territories and handled things further afield. 

"We get all the fun jobs," Demarco smiled back.

"This isn't a hunting expedition," Jake admonished.

"Don't give orders to my pack, little brother," Rory put in hotly.

The two locked eyes across the table as the delicate balance between those two strong-willed individuals was tested once again. The table fell silent, waiting. Demarco watched them, knowing all too well the struggle between the Wolf's primal instinct to challenge a rival and the human's rational understanding that they needed to cooperate. Finally, with a smile and a simple tilt of his head, Jake conceded the point. Demarco was a Wildfang and Etta, though she was a friend to both packs and a member of neither, was Demarco's partner and lover. Rory's pack, Rory's lead. 

"He's right though," Rory admitted, if a bit grudgingly. "We need information, not... quick resolutions."

Demarco could almost feel Etta relax. Rory's ideas of quick resolutions usually involved at least some level of violence, and she knew that Etta, while more than capable, preferred to avoid fighting when she could.

"Don't eat anyone. Got it," Demarco said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I guess we get to play spy," Etta smiled. 

In Moonlight - Ch 3 - What About Knox?

"Hey Clay, I got your call," Mary Cavaliere called out. "What about Knox? Is he OK?" 

Mary had a very short list of friends in Evergreen Harbor, but somehow steady, reliable, down-to-earth Clay French and tree-hugging stoner Knox Greenburg were both on it. So, when Clay had called and said Knox needed help, Mary hadn't asked for details. She'd just hopped on the next city bus and headed for the Caboose. The train-station-turned-tavern wasn't the only place in the Harbor to hang out and get a drink, but it was their place.

"He is definitely not OK," Clay replied. "You remember that girl he was seeing, Shannon?"

"The one he kept saying he was going to introduce us to but hasn't," Mary nodded. She had teased Knox a few times about his maybe-imaginary girlfriend who lived in another city. "What happened, did she break his heart?"

"She died," Clay said grimly.

"Madonna!" Mary gasped, the sudden shock making her Amorosan accent more pronounced. "What happened?"

"I guess it was a mugging or something," Clay explained. "He's pretty messed up about it. Missy's in with him now, trying to comfort him."

As Mary followed Clay into the lounge, she reflected that she wasn't supposed to be here. The more people she interacted with, the more likely someone would realize that Mary Cavaliere wasn't Mary Cavaliere at all. It was even possible they would recognize her as Mariah Huntley, the infamous ex-gangster wife of Miranda Goth, daughter of musical superstar Cassie Goth. There'd been enough paparazzi at the damn wedding, to say nothing of the news coverage of the Alto family's attack on the newlyweds. 

She was in hiding from gangsters. She was supposed to be lying low and maintaining minimal contact with people. That hadn't worked out, and "minimal contact" had turned into making friends. 

Mary wasn't supposed to be here, but she was, and she was going to help a friend.

"Shannon was just so... so... in tune, you know," Knox was saying sadly, as Mary sat down across from him. "Like she was just so connected to the world... like spiritually connected to the Real World, not the whole soulless corporate grind people think the world is."

"Oh Knox, she sounds really amazing," Missy said soothingly. 

The usually vivacious, but currently subdued, redhead was Clay's girlfriend. She was one those 'strangers are just besties I haven't met yet' people. It was really her fault, Mary thought, that she wasn't doing the whole 'minimal contact' thing. From the moment Mary had met her at work, Missy had just effortlessly pulled her into this circle of friends. 

"What you had must have been so special," Missy continued.

"It was," Knox said sadly. "When we were together it was like... like we were one soul."

"I'm so sorry, Knox," Mary said, her voice (and her accent) thick with emotion. She knew just what Knox meant, about being one soul with the person you love. The idea of losing that had featured heavily in her newer nightmares. "It sounds like such a useless thing to say, but I really am sorry."

"Thanks, Mar," Knox said. "I really appreciate you just being here."

"Of course," Mary said, while thinking minimal contact be damned. "You just let us know what you need."

"Anything at all," Missy added. "We're all here for you."

"I just don't understand how this could happen," Knox cried. "I mean, the cops said it was a mugging. How could someone do that? Kill her... for what? For money?"

"There are bad people in the world," Mary said. She knew. As Mariah, she'd seen what poverty and desperation drove people to do. She'd seen what greed and cruelty could do, too. She forcibly reminded herself that Mary Cavaliere hadn't lived on the streets, hadn't been a gangster. 

"Maybe it wasn't that," Knox said. "Maybe... maybe it was the protest. You know... maybe those evil land developers wanted to silence her!"

"Easy there buddy," Clay said. Clay worked an office job at the Evergreen Development Company. He and Knox didn't always agree about the whole evil land developers idea.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw her wife, Mandy... in Evergreen Harbor, her name was Mandy... coming in.

"Knox, I'm so sorry," Mandy said. "I know it hurts. You love her. So, it's OK for it to hurt."

"Yeah... I loved her," Knox sighed.

"Come here," Mandy said softly, gently pulling Knox to his feet and into a comforting embrace. "You love her... even when she's gone, you still love her."

She'd experienced more than her share of loss, Mary thought. So she knows what to say... or maybe being comforting and kind just comes naturally to her.

"Yeah... I love her," Knox smiled weakly. "I do. I love Shannon Charm." 

"Shannon Charm," Mandy breathed. Mary saw her eyes briefly widening with shock.

"Yeah, great name, don't you think," Knox said, slouching sadly back to the couch, too lost in his own grief to notice Mandy's reaction.

"Yeah," Mandy nodded. Mary watched something come over her wife's face, something terrifyingly familiar. Something she hoped their new friends, rightly focused on Knox, didn't see either because it wasn't a look that went with the persona of Mandy Cavaliere. It was the kind of mysterious look that sometimes came over the face of Miranda Silveroak-Goth when things were getting really weird.

"Knox, I'm sorry but I need to pull Mary away for a minute," Mandy said softly. Glancing at Missy and Clay, she added, "We'll be back as soon as we can."

Clay nodded back at her. "So, Knox... you wanna tell me more about those evil land developers?"

-------------

"What's going on?" Mariah asked. Standing outside the Caboose, she didn't feel like Mary Cavaliere anymore. She felt more like Mariah than she had in months.

"Shannon Charm," Miranda replied. She definitely wasn't Mandy right now. "I knew someone named Shannon Charm at school. There can't be two of them."

"At school back in Henford?" Mariah asked, but as much as she hoped so, she already knew what Miranda's answer would be.

"At the Academy, in Glimmerbrook," Miranda said.

"So, Shannon Charm was a witch?" Mariah breathed softly.

"Not just any witch," Miranda said seriously. "The Charms are one of the Old Families. Old blood and old magic going back more than a thousand years. You don't just walk up to a witch of the old blood and stick a knife in them."

"Ummm... I mean, you can. Carla B did it to you," Mariah disagreed softly. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could still see Carla with the Altos' tough guys behind her, blocking their way.

"Well, first, the Goths aren't an Old Family and, second, Carla knew what she was doing," Miranda said firmly. "She was ready for me and she brought a bunch of guys... and we still got away."

"Yeah, we got away," Mariah nodded. Barely, she added silently. For a moment, she imagined she could still feel her wife's hot blood against her hands, could almost see her lying, bleeding on the cobblestones of an empty Tartosan street.

"I just don't believe that some mugger in Windenburg could kill Shannon Charm," Miranda said. "There's something more going on. I can feel it." 

In Moonlight - Ch 2 - Family Emergency

It would take a family emergency to bring me back here so soon, Genie thought, looking up at her family's sprawling mansion.

The Von Windenburg Estate, Genie reflected, had been rebuilt by her great-grandfather, the banking magnate Baron Henry Von Windenburg, after the original manor was destroyed during the Second Great War. The Von Windenburgs had been a prominent and wealthy family, and their money had bought power far in excess of the relatively minor noble title they had purchased sometime during the Renaissance. 

Genie supposed her mother was doing a pretty good job of ruthlessly preserving the family's wealth and power, if not the noble title. Though she'd never met him, Genie felt her great-grandfather surely would have approved. She was also pretty sure she wouldn't have liked the man.

She certainly hated the house he'd built. 

"Welcome back, Ms. Genevieve," Stephens greeted her. "Your return is most timely and appreciated."

The family butler, Stephens was the only living person Genie allowed to call her Genevieve without correcting them. A fixture of the household, he was trained in the old traditions of service. He handled the cooking and cleaning, greeted guests, and oversaw the house and the staff of maids and gardeners who came in daily. The man (though her sister Blair, or maybe Debra, occasionally claimed he was actually a robot) was tireless, always proper and usually unflappable. 

Genie was surprised to see strong emotion pushing past Stephens's facade. 

"Kassidy called me," Genie said by way of explanation.

"Very good," Stephens said with visible relief.

"Stephens, what's happened?" Genie asked. "Kassidy wasn't able to explain much on the phone."

"Ms. Kassidy has suffered a tragedy," Stephens explained. "A recent but, I gather, significant friend of hers has been cruelly and violently taken. She is in need of comfort and support, beyond what I am able to offer."

"Where are the others?" Genie asked.

"Your sisters, Ms. Blair and Ms. Debra, are still at university and, to my knowledge, are unaware of Ms. Kassidy's troubles," Stephens said. "With the Houses in session, Representative Elderberry is staying in the legislative apartments at the Palace, in order to have close access to his staff."

"What's this one's name?" Genie mused, half to herself. Stephens graciously declined to acknowledge her interruption.

"Mrs. Elderberry is in the library," Stephens concluded in tones so empty of emotion that Genie was struck by the butler's furious outrage at her mother's failure to comfort Kassidy. 

"Well, no need to disturb her," Genie replied, struggling to keep her own outrage in check.

Really, she shouldn't have been surprised. Her mom's response to almost any difficulty was to paste on a false smile ("You mustn't be so emotional, Genevieve") and carry on ("You must be strong, Genevieve"). Even the death of Grand-père Jacques hadn't caused to her to so much as mess up her flawless mascara ("My father never approved of weeping, Genevieve"). 

"I'll go up and see Kassidy," Genie said, shaking herself out of her thoughts.

With any luck, Genie thought, I can talk to Kassidy, and mom won't even know I'm here.

"Genevieve, I wasn't expecting you," Luna Elderberry's voice cut through her like a knife.

I should have touched wood, Genie groaned inwardly. "It's Genie, mom."

"Well, it is good to see you, dear," Luna said, giving her an oddly cold and emotionless kiss on the cheek. "Though we ought to get you some better clothes and really, there must be something you can do about your hair, Genevieve."

"I am not here to talk about clothes or my hair, mom." Genie forced her hands to not reflexively try to smooth her unruly curls. "I'm here to see Kassidy."

"Oh," Luna replied dismissively. "That's nice, dear."

"She called me in tears!" Genie snapped. "She's lost a friend and she's devastated. She needs some support, some comfort. Maybe even some love. I'm sure you've read about love somewhere!"

 "There is no reason to take that tone with me, young lady," Luna snapped back. "What Kassidy needs is to be strong and confident... and to recognize that associating with certain types will only bring her grief."

"Associating with certain..." Genie rocked back, staggered by her mom's sheer audacity. "You associate with criminals! You launder money for gangsters! Grand-père Jacques was a gangster! Uncle Max is a gangster... a gangster who shot me!" 

"Really dear, I had some very stern words with your Uncle Max about that, and he assures me he wasn't aiming at you," Luna said firmly. 

"Well that makes the bullet wound in my arm feel so much better, mom," Genie snarled.

"This just proves my point, dear," Luna continued. "Associating with people like Claudette Faust, or Blackwood or whatever she calls herself these days, or especially people like Shannon Charm, only leads to pain and grief."

"I can't... I can't even talk to you," Genie huffed. "I'm going up to see my little sister, who needs me. Goodbye."

"Hey there kiddo," Genie said. 

After taking a moment to calm down (her mother always got under her skin), she'd found Kassidy in her room. 

That room had changed since she'd last been in it. The toys and stuffed animals that had fueled the vibrant imagination of the youngest Elderberry girl were still there, but in the years since Genie had left for university, Kassidy had added posters about music and environmentalism. Glancing with a reporter's curiosity at Kassidy's desk, Genie saw books on politics, environmentalism, and art among high school textbooks, teen magazines and her little sister's favorite children's books. 

It was as if the room itself, like the grief-stricken teen standing in the middle of it, was balanced between childhood and maturity.

"Genie," Kassidy sobbed softly. "Oh, Genie."

"I'm here, kiddo," Genie said, pulling her sister into a hug. "I'm here."

"It's so awful," Kassidy sobbed.

"You want to talk to me?" Genie prompted gently. "It might help."

"She's dead, Genie," Kassidy gasped, as if saying it out loud horrified her. "Shannon's dead. Someone... someone killed her."

"Tell me about Shannon," Genie said, trying to draw her out. 

"Shannon's the best," Kassidy sighed, then corrected herself. "Shannon was the best. She's... she was brilliant and cool and she is... was... so dedicated to the environment."

"How did you meet her?" Genie asked. "At school?"

"No, Shannon's older," Kassidy said. "Like, your age, I think. I met her at Speak for the Trees. You know, the environmental defense group?"

"Yeah, I've heard of them," Genie said, trying to hide a slight smile. 

She was sure her mom was thrilled that Kassidy was getting involved in political causes that were directly and vocally in opposition to Rep. Elderberry's right-wing Axis party. That made two of the four Elderberry girls standing up against their father's politics (if Debra or Blair had any interest in politics of any kind, they hadn't mentioned it to Genie).  

"Well, Shannon's an organizer for the local chapter," Kassidy continued. "Her and her boyfriend, Knox. That's how I met her. She has... she had... so much passion. 'Don't let anyone tell you you can't change the world. We change the world every day with our will and our words' she'd say."

"She sounds cool," Genie said. "Actually, she sounds a little like my friend Miranda... who is also very cool."

"Shannon's the best," Kassidy said. "She was the best. Oh... oh Genie..."

Tears slipped freely down Kassidy's face, the unashamed grief of youth.

"I know, kiddo," Genie sighed. "I know. It's hard to lose someone."

She didn't really know, Genie admitted to herself. Other than Grand-père Jacques, the only person she'd ever lost like this had been an ex-boyfriend, and the narcissistic scumbag had been handing Genie over to be killed at the time. She admitted to herself that she'd mourned Johnny Pretty, probably more than he deserved, but she was sure it had been nothing like what Kassidy was feeling. 

"She's really gone. I just can't believe she's really gone," Kassidy was saying. "Oh... oh, what about Knox? I wonder how he's doing."