Page 4 of Dark Stars

Bobby stopped at a hotel that looked reasonable, located on the outskirts of town, near enough to restaurants to keep things interesting whenever he felt like eating, just the right combination of close to stuff but not too close.

Alejandro pulled in next to him and climbed out, grabbing a large, military-looking duffel bag from the trunk before waiting with his hands shoved in his pockets. It was mid-morning, birds and critters up and about their days, people awake and going about their business, all the remaining softness of early morning fading away, taken by searing daylight.

"Don't think we can check in this early. Does this mean we're partners on the case?"

"It'll be fine, and yes. Come on."

Face lighting up in a way that seemed disproportionate to the situation, Alejandro cried, "Yeah!"

and followed him into the hotel.

Bobby had reserved the rooms and checked in on his phone while driving, so all they had to do was grab their keycards and head up.

"I don't usually stay anywhere this nice,"

Alejandro said.

"My parents are really strict about spending. The last time I splurged on a pair of shoes, my mom broke her shoe hitting me with it, and then I got in trouble for that."

"What kind of shoes did you buy?"

"Nikes. LeBron 7s. I loved those shoes."

He mashed the button for the elevator.

"What kind of stuff do you like?"

"Books, books, books. I own thousands of them. I buy more every week. I brought five ereaders with me. Horror, romance, thriller, mystery, literature… doesn't matter what it is, I'll probably read it, though genre fiction is my favorite. Humans are so creative and imaginative. It's a rarer trait than you might think."

Alejandro's mouth quirked in a smile that made him look young and old all at once.

"You'd be surprised how often we hear that from paranormals."

Bobby returned the smile, but scarcely a beat later the strange little moment was broken by the chiming of the elevator. He led the way out and down the hall to a pair of rooms. Inside his, he unlocked the connecting door between them and propped it open. A moment later, Alejandro did the same, beaming for no reason in that way so many humans did.

"I could get used to this. Just tell me what I owe and never tell my mother."

"I doubt I'll ever meet your mother,"

Bobby said with a laugh.

"Come on, you'd probably like food next, and we can plan our next move. I've never worked with anyone but Legrasse and Jones, so this should be interesting."

He turned away from the door to change his clothes from the rumpled ones he'd been wearing all day, barely noticing the weird noises Alejandro made behind him.

A few minutes later they were back outside, where Bobby motioned for Alejandro to climb into his truck.

"What do you want to eat?"

"I'm guessing good Mexican food isn't going to be possible out here in the middle of New England,"

Alejandro said mournfully.

"Nobody on this side of the country can even make a decent taco, let alone anything else. Oh, I guess it's more a breakfast hour, isn't it? I always lose track of time. Let's find a diner or coffee shop."

He pulled out his phone, and in short order directed them to charming little postcard-perfect restaurant that served breakfast and lunch.

Once Bobby had coffee and Alejandro food enough for twenty, Bobby laid the file Legrasse had given him on the table.

"So missing people. Fetid odors. Strange sounds."

"Most went missing when they were outside the city limits,"

Alejandro said between bites of sausage and eggs.

"Cars, bikes, whatever were found abandoned hours later, not long after someone finally reported them missing. Local sheriff instituted a curfew after the fifth person went missing, but that hasn't stopped others. I think they're up to twelve?"

"Thirteen, actually,"

Bobby said, watching the way the staff spoke in hushed, urgent whispers.

"Would imagine being new weirdos in town, we're gonna get poked and prodded. Guessing there aren't any hunters around here that could put in a good word for you?"

He already knew the answer, because Jones or Harold would have told him if there was, but never hurt to be thorough.

Alejandro shook his head.

"No. Used to be, but they were killed some decades back, and nobody ever stepped in to fill the void. Well, no hunters did. Guess Legrasse handles it."

"Between a witch, a vampire, and me, a family of hunters would be superfluous."

Alejandro grunted but didn't say anything, just focused on emptying his plate. Plates, really, but nobody burned calories like a hunter.

The back of Bobby's neck tingled, and he looked up right as the door opened, inhaling sharply as a familiar scent struck him. Faint, whisper faint, but he would know that smell anywhere. A faint miasma that emanated from the bones of the universe itself. To Bobby, it was the scent of home.

To humans, it was the scent of power, and the more of it they smelled, the more of it they wanted. Until they went mad and shattered completely, or were consumed by the hunger.

Or consumed, literally, but no point in being hasty. Good meals were best savored. And he really liked to play with his food.

"I think our first clue just walked in the door,"

he murmured just for Alejandro's ears.

Alejandro gave no indication he'd heard, but as the stranger walked past him, his eyes followed, probably taking in every last detail.

The man was middle-aged, roughly fifties, give or take a few years. His gray hair was unkempt, his face scruffy, his clothes wrinkled and reeking of cigarette smoke that did not hide the miasma beneath. He wore jeans, a dark red long-sleeved t-shirt, and heavy, steel-toed boots. The watch on his wrist was an expensive one, but not a Rolex, though that was the best Bobby could do. Out of place, for certain.

"Just coffee,"

the man called out to the same woman who'd served Alejandro and Bobby before settling in a corner seat that let him see the entire room. The weight of his stare crawled along Bobby's neck, but he ignored it for now.

"What can you see?"

"Nothing's remarkable except his necklace. He's got it spelled to hide it from view, but I can see it. Black leather cord, something I can't make out hanging from it, carved from stone or something."

Bobby sighed softly.

"Greenish-black, with flecks of gold?"

"How did you know?"

"He reeks of it."

"I didn't smell anything."

"You wouldn't. I really think it best if you bow out of this one, little hunter."

"No."

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you, and do—"

"You're not my parents, or my overbearing siblings, or any other part of my interfering, busybody family. I don't have to listen to you."

"You asked me to be partners for this little venture, so you could at least take note of my advice, even if you don't heed it like the stubborn, crazy human you are. Why did your family let a mere child come all the way out here alone, anyway?"

He almost drew back at the anger that flared in Alejandro's amber eyes.

"I'm young, but young doesn't mean child. Stop calling me that."

Bobby tilted his head, curiosity spiking.

"What happened back west?"

"None of your damn business,"

Alejandro replied, even as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. Bobby couldn't feel or taste anything, though, so the arcana must be heavily dampened. Even his deeper search earlier hadn't revealed it.

"Especially right now, when Mr. Weird Jewelry is not so subtly watching us."

He went back to eating, but after a moment said, "Our server seems to be on his side, whatever that side is. They're speaking in looks and gestures."

He jerked his head in the direction of Bobby's truck, parked right out front, a silent should we follow him?

"No need, not right now,"

Bobby replied, finishing his coffee.

"I have his scent. We'll take a touristy walk around town and see what that gets us. I also want to learn more about each person that's gone missing. Harold's file didn't have much in the way of personal information, just police report highlights. I want details."

That would tell him who they wanted to summon, what particular flavor of chaos they wanted to draw into the world, and what he would need to do to stop it.

How much he'd piss off his relatives for interfering, but they shouldn't have built a little cult in his backyard. Assholes.

Everything would be so much easier if he could simply go ask them, but they wouldn't tell him, and would do their best to hide it, because his family was good at sticking together—especially against the disgusting half-human in their midst.

"Why do you look so cranky all of a sudden?"

Alejandro asked.

"Family. You know."

"Don't even get me started. Mamá has already texted me twenty times, and I give it another hour before she calls me. What's your family like?"

"Complicated,"

Bobby said slowly.

"I am… not as pure of blood, you could say, as they would prefer. To this day, they still complain that my mother fell in love with my father instead of… hmm… holding to tradition."

Which would have entailed eating his father and the whelp she bore him, but Bobby didn't tend to share that tidbit of information. Humans got squeamish, even though they had a long history of turning each other into shoes and books and dinner.

Alejandro laughed.

"Complicated. Yeah, I get that. My father is first generation Haitian. Moved to the US when he was seven. His mother is a Vodun priestess, and he inherited a great deal of her arcana. My mother's line has always been hunters."

"The Jaguars."

"How did you know that?"

"Jones told me. He said your family has been around since the twelve hundreds or so."

"Yeah, the first recorded Mendoza was born in about 1193. We don't have records further back than that; they were probably destroyed—by natural disaster or colonizers, or something else entirely. Anyway, my mother comes from a long line of bruja. Neither her family nor my dad's were happy they fell in love and got married. Worse, they had four sons, one daughter, and it's the youngest son who got all the arcana. But I'm neither vodun nor brujo, so nobody knows what to do with me. My abuela says I was born on a night of dark stars, but nobody can tell me what that means, not even her."

Bobby jolted as though punched.

"You look like someone just walked over your grave."

"Dark stars. That's a… strange thing for a random bruja in New Mexico or California or wherever to say."

"California, just outside of San Diego. What does 'dark stars' mean? Because it clearly holds significance for you. Please, you have to tell me. Nobody has ever known. I've been trying to figure it out my whole life."

"Dark stars are just stars, but they exist in places humans cannot ordinarily go. To be a child of dark stars is to be someone destined to go where humans usually don't."

It was far more complicated than that, but enough for now. Bobby reached into his jacket and took out the talisman that was always on his person. He'd sensed that the third and final recipient of his mother's gifts would come soon.

He just hadn't expected a near-child from California to be it.

"Put this on, child of dark stars. You will need it."

Alejandro frowned as he slowly picked up the amulet.

"This looks a lot like what that dude in the corner is wearing. Same material. Different shape. What the hell is going on?"

"Something far worse than hell,"

Bobby murmured.

"I should have driven you away."

"I'm not your responsibility. I can take care of myself."

His fingers twitched, like an aborted movement, and Bobby would bet every book he owned Alejandro had been about to touch the back of his neck.

Question after question swirled through Bobby's mind, but he shelved them for the moment.

"Do not ever take that talisman off. Not for any reason, not even if your Mamá asks it of you. Understand me?"

"What is it?"

Alejandro asked. A more cynical hunter—a more cynical person, period—would have asked that and a whole lot of other questions before even touching the talisman, but Alejandro had it in place before he'd finished speaking.

"Protection more powerful than you can possibly fathom."

"Protection from what?"

"Me."

Bobby tossed money on the table and stood.

"Let's get going. Lots to do, and never enough time to do it, at least when the rules are obeyed."

"You're so fucking weird,"

Alejandro replied, but obeyed as readily as ever. Did he taste as sweetly as he obeyed?

Not a question Bobby should be asking, even if only in his own head.

"You're the hunter in a place you don't belong doing whatever a fucking weirdo tells you, so what does that make you?"

Alejandro sighed, long and tired, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and soon it would break him. He had insisted he was no child, and for the first time Bobby believed him.

"Stupid. Even after everything that got me sent here."

Bobby abruptly stopped and turned, causing Alejandro to crash into him. He reached out to keep Alejandro steady, surprised by the muscle in such a relatively slight frame. His brown skin, russet hair, and bright amber eyes made for an almost ethereal effect. An angel, or a djinn perhaps. Loosing one hand, Bobby tugged at his own collar and said, "I vow you no harm, Alejandro Mendoza. You wear my amulet, you have my greatest protection, made and gifted by my mother. None will hurt you, not even me."

Alejandro swallowed, wide-eyed and so very young.

"What are you?"

"Something born beneath dark stars,"

Bobby murmured, and let him go, stepping back and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Now then, which of the missing persons should we start with?"

"Alejo,"

Alejandro blurted out.

"I mean, that's what everyone calls me. Alejo. You can too. If you wanted. Um. We should start with, uh, the priest."

His brow furrowed.

"Or the teacher. Of all the missing persons, they seemed the strangest ones to go missing."

Bobby grinned.

"All right then, Alejo. Let's get to work."