Stalking the Moon by Angel Leigh McCoy

Author:Angel Leigh McCoy [McCoy, Angel Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781950427055
Publisher: Wily Writers LLC
Published: 2020-04-23T22:00:00+00:00

♦♦♦

CHAPTER 22

You have to let him go.

I awoke in bed with the residue of sedation chemistry in my mouth and nostrils.

Simon said, “I leave you alone for five minutes, and all Hell breaks loose.”

I had neither the strength nor desire to ignore him. I was stalking the moon.

I croaked the words, “It’s not my fault.”

“I know it’s not, missy.”

“She tried to kill me again.”

His voice moved close to my cheek, soft and gentle. “That’s why I came back.”

“I’m starting to think you know more than you’re letting on. I’m starting to think everyone does—except me.”

He said, “You’ve always had a—”

I finished the last part with him, “—very active imagination,” and added, “I know.”

Kicking off the covers, I rolled to sitting and rubbed my face. I ran my hands through my hair and worked the last lingering bit of fog out of my brain. My brainstem ached.

Simon's voice was right beside me. “We need to get you out of this place.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. I reached out to Simon, or to where his voice originated, but my hand passed through open air, touching nothing. I immediately felt foolish for almost believing again. “Is the hag a figment of my imagination too?”

He didn’t answer.

“Simon? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I…" he paused. "I… Uh…”

I’d never heard Simon at a loss for words. “What’s the matter?”

He sighed, and the sound moved down to the foot of the bed. “Viviane, there are thresholds in this world. Some you cross naturally. Some, not so much. Once you breach them, you can’t turn back. These thresholds change you as you pass through them, and when they change you, they change your world. Some are man-made, like marriage and divorce. Others are physical. Breaking the hymen and conception, for example. Then there are mental ones, such as the understanding that Santa Claus doesn’t really exist. You can never come back once you've passed through an emotional threshold like your first broken heart. There are evolutionary thresholds, consciousness thresholds, and dimensional thresholds.”

A chill made my shoulders clench. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You ask questions, but I’m not sure you want the answers. Your reality is sacrosanct. It’s not cool to fuck with Mother Nature.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course, you don’t. If you did, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

My eyes wandered. The biggest challenge of talking to someone I couldn’t see had always been where to put my eyes. I wanted to look at him, but there was nothing to see. That produced a conflict in my mind that felt uncomfortable and created discord. So, I looked at my hands or the walls, anything but the location of the voice.

I asked, “What problem?”

“Your reality cherry, lass. Once it’s popped, there’s no going back. Gone for good. Poof. A distant memory. A friend long lost and sorely missed. And, trust me when I say it’s never much fun the first time.”

“Just tell me.”

Simon huffed. “Your mother’s going to kill me for this.”

“My mother? What’s she—”

Somebody knocked on the door.

“Saved by the knock.

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