Moon Dragon by J. R. Rain Page B

Cellar was more our style. Dark, gloomy, isolated. I probably still couldn’t get away with impaling Kingsley, but at least we could probably sneak back in.
    Afterward, we had walked around downtown Fullerton, holding hands, looking in windows, avoiding drunks and rowdy college students, often one and the same. It was, after all, a Friday night and nearby Fullerton College was in full swing. Harbor Boulevard was lined with white lights, in a sort of year-round Christmas décor. We walked past Jacky’s gym, which was presently dark, other than a small, muted glow in the back offices. Maybe Jacky was going over the books.
    Spirit activity was everywhere. Downtown Fullerton was particularly old for Southern California. Lots of activity here over the years, lots of death and crime, too. Lots of heart attacks and car accidents and muggings. In fact, one such accident kept replaying itself, over and over, on a nearby street corner. Two cars coming together in an explosion of light. Over and over. I watched three spirits separate from the wreckage and stand together, looking down and looking confused.
    Kingsley saw the spirits, too, but rarely let them get to him, and never did he feel a need to help the truly lost souls. Early on, I had. I wanted to go to each one, and urge them to move on. To the light, and all of that. But I have since come to realize that I can’t help them all.
    And the truth is...
    Well, the truth is, I am caring less and less these days about whether they move on or not. Their plight is not my plight. I have my own issues. Yes, I know some of the uncaring was coming from her within me. Then again, it was because of her that I could even see the damn spirits in the first place.
    After our stroll—and after Kingsley had tossed aside a young punk who had pinned a girl to a wall and had been talking to her a little too aggressively—we had made our way back to his place.
    Once there, and once Franklin had taken our coats, we somehow, magically, ended up in his bedroom. From there, the clothing was optional...and mostly optional.
    Thirty minutes later, the big oaf lifted himself off me. Damn good thing I didn’t have to breathe. Afterward, we had gotten a midnight snack and eaten it over his kitchen counter. I was wearing his long shirt. He was wearing no shirt. While we talked, I might have giggled one too many times, because Franklin had appeared in the doorway, looking none too pleased. Then again, he rarely looked pleased to see me. Of course, he also sported a scar that literally wrapped around his neck. A scar that implied, well, that he’d lost his head at some point.
    Someday, I would get Kingsley to open up about Franklin.
    Anyway, we both apologized to the patchwork butler. Franklin sneered, turned his head, and loped away. That one leg seemed longer than the other or that one ear was actually a different skin tone than the other, was disturbing.
    Now, back up in his room, I lay next to Kingsley, with one hand propping up my head and the other veritably buried in his chest hair.
    “I get that you are a werewolf,” I started. “I also get that you change each full moon. I even get that you play host to your own highly evolved dark master, as do I. What I don’t get is why you are so damn hairy.”
    “It goes back to what I said a while back, Sam.”
    “That you continue to grow.”
    “With each transformation, I’m just that much bigger. That much closer to the beast within.”
    “And that much hairier?”
    “In short, yes,” he said. “Will that be a problem?”
    I didn’t have to think about it. “It won’t be a problem for me,” I said. “But I can’t vouch for your shower drains.”
    “One of Franklin’s many jobs is maintaining the household plumbing. Let’s just say, I keep him busy.”
    “Eww.”
    He laughed and pulled me into him. I don’t think I could have resisted him if I tried. Instead, I went willingly, and found my face buried somewhere between his shoulder and