The Blood Moon Feeds on My Dreams: A Noir Urban Fantasy Novel (Alexander Southerland, P.I. Book 6) by Lumsden Douglas

Author:Lumsden, Douglas [Lumsden, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Lubank stayed behind when the detectives left. “Alkwat’s balls, Southerland. You look like you’ve been raised from the dead. If your eyes were any redder, I’d think you were a troll.” He looked me up and down. “A really sick troll.”

“I’ve been having some trouble with my sleep.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“I haven’t been getting any.”

“Good man. Sleep is overrated. Look at me: I only sleep two or three hours a night. I spend the rest of my time working. That’s the secret of my success.”

“That and your blackmail files.”

Lubank shrugged. “What’s your point?” He took a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and tapped one out. “Listen to me. Kalama doesn’t believe that bullshit about you not knowing where this Deerling broad is hiding. She’s too smart for you. The only reason they aren’t dragging you to a downtown sweatbox is she’s hoping you’ll lead her to the broad and her son.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know where she is. She might have been carried off by whoever killed Randolph. She might be dead.”

“Or she might have killed Randolph and run off.”

“What possible reason could she have for killing Randolph? She only just met him when I brought him over.”

“Maybe he did something to piss her off. I’ve heard of that silver-tongued troublemaker. He’s got a mouth on him, and he likes to use it. I’ve got a bad feeling about the broad.” Lubank blew smoke out the side of his mouth.

I frowned at him. “You don’t even know her.”

“She’s a chosen of one of the old lords of death. And she pushed her son into the grips of this Blood Moon spirit. I don’t trust her. She’s got a cause, and she’s passionate about it. You can’t trust anyone who’s so passionate about a cause that they’ll put that cause above their own loved ones. And that mouthy antiwar fanatic had a cause that he was passionate about, too. You shouldn’t have left those two together in the same room, especially one that’s too small to contain all that passion. It’s like putting oil and gasoline in an oven. One might burn blue, and one might burn red, but they’ll both burn.”

Lubank had a point, and it was stabbing me right in the gut. Sonoma had struck me as levelheaded and composed. She didn’t have the same fanatical gleam in her eye as Randolph. But under the guidance of a spirit of death she had traveled thousands of miles from the land of her birth to Yerba City in pursuit of the Huay Chivo. She had searched for him for years, and when she’d found him she’d acted immediately to form a blood bond so that she could summon him and free him from the Dragon Lord’s enchantment. And all at the request of her spirit guide. What was in it for her beyond the fulfillment of a task that had been imposed upon her? In the meantime, she was acting as an arbiter to reconcile a centuries-old dispute between her spirit guide and another powerful spirit.

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