Red Moon Demon (book one)

Red Moon Demon

RED MOON DEMON

© Copyright July 2012

by Morgan Blayde

ONE

"Hi, read my book or I'll hunt you

down and kill you. I'm not joking."

—Caine Deathwalker

My eyes slitted open as weight on the mattress tipped me sideways off my back. Claws eased the black silk sheet off my face. An oversized black leopard stared with hungry, yellow eyes. I felt no fear. I didn't know why the spirit beast had moved in years ago—other than she liked my liquor—but we'd become family. Everyone else was potentially an unhappy meal.

I growled, "Let me sleep, jackass; it's not even dark out. Besides, this bed's reserved for sexual conquests—and I don't do cats. Now if you were able to turn into a human female..."

"In your dreams..." Her gruff voice echoed off the flat oak headboard and the bare, black walls of my bedroom. "Really, Caine, you need to get ready for work."

"Work's highly overrated."

"Don't make me drool on you."

"You're pissing me off, Leona."

"Yeah, but you don't really mind 'cause I'm so adorable." The sleek leopard lashed her tail and flashed clenched fangs at me.

I sighed. Always freakin' great to see a feral grin first thing in the evening.

Rolling off the bed, I padded naked to the kitchen with her slinking at my heels. My glance went to the gray granite counter where a metal tree held assorted cups ready for use. Next to this sat the coffee maker, its timer activated. A few minutes separated me from bliss. I went to the smoke-tinted glass table by the kitchen's bay window. The micro-blinds were gun-metal gray and shut tight. I opened them and looked out at the blue Pacific. Its streaked center was a fire-red dazzle, glazed by the setting sun.

I settled into a padded chair, waiting for the brewing to end. Leona bitch-slapped the second chair out of her way, squatting on her haunches where it had been. Her head level with mine, she expected to be served a cup, too. Though she couldn't drink anything but fresh blood, she liked the smell of steaming coffee. It reminded her of the Amazon jungle.

I said nothing about my poor abused chair, appreciating an attack cat willing to eat anyone breaking into my house. A thought occurred to me. "Hey, Leona, how'd you know about my job today?"

"Well, you know that ass-wipe demon you call 'Old Man,' who desperately needs a hooker, or some kind of life?"

The coffee maker spluttered in indignation, offended on behalf of my adopted father. I went to get some brew. "Yeah."