Moon Runner 01 Under the Shadow Read online

  "On second thought, revenge is my right and my duty, not yours." Don Alfonso held out his hand for the gun.

  Ulysses tried to conceal his relief as he gave up the Colt but he couldn't prevent his involuntary flinch as the don fired once, twice.

  Taking a deep breath, Ulysses gave thanks for the don's accuracy--the men had died instantly. He'd learned another lesson tonight. No matter how he hated a man, he'd never be able to do what the don had just done.

  Shoot a man who meant to kill him or a friend, yes. In cold blood, no.

  Chapter 4

  "But I don't want you to stop!" Esperanza clung to Ulysses, the sweet pressure of her body against his

  further undermining his rapidly eroding resolve not to take advantage of her innocence.

  The half moon rode above the branches of the oak,

  but its pale light scarcely reached them, shadowed as they were by the leaves overhead. After he'd mentioned how her white nightclothes made her conspicuous in the darkness, Esperanza now came to him concealed in a black shawl.

  As they lay on the shawl underneath the oak wrapped in each other's arms, Ulysses made one last attempt to protect her from what they both desperately wanted. "There's something I have to tell you," he whispered.

  She hugged him closer. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say you loved me!"

  Ulysses was taken aback. He'd meant to confess to her that he was a man without a past, without even a name. What in God's name was he to do now?

  Esperanza laughed, her warm breath teasing his ear.

  "Cat got your tongue?"

  He tried to explain. "I wasn't--that is, you don't--" She stiffened in his embrace. "You mean you don't love me?"

  "I do, of course I do." He thought it was the truth.

  If his feeling for her wasn't love he didn't know what else to call it.

  She relaxed only slightly. "I won't believe you unless you say the words."

  "I love you," he murmured.

  She melted against him, her lips seeking and finding his, her fingers tangling in his hair, her round, full breasts pressing against his chest. Aroused beyond endurance, he forgot everything but Esperanza and his need for her, retaining barely enough sanity to be gentle when at last they came together and he claimed her as his own.

  Later, as she prepared to return to the casa,

  Esperanza said, "Tomorrow you must ask papa."

  Ulysses knew she was right and yet he dreaded the encounter. He wrapped the shawl around her and, with his hands on her shoulders, looked down at her face, pale in the moonlight. Now she was his wife in all but name, if it were up to him he wouldn't withhold that from her. False though his name might be, it was the only one he had. He'd wanted to tell her the truth but now it was far too late.

  "Tomorrow evening," he said at last. He'd make a formal request for her hand, though he knew very well he didn't have a chance in hell of marrying her. He could well imagine the don's rage when he asked.

  The following day, Ulysses waited until after the evening meal to knock at the casa door. Rosa, the elderly houseservant, let him in without comment, motioning toward the room Ulysses thought of as the library because of the several shelves of books.

  He tapped at the half-open door. "It's Ulysses, sir," he said.

  Don Alfonso sat in a high-backed chair at a table with a green bottle of the brandy the Californios called aguardiente before him. His injured leg was propped on a stool.

  "Enter, mi amigo," he said to Ulysses. "Sit down and have a drink with me."

  Ulysses thanked him, took the half-filled glass the Don offered and eased himself onto the edge of the straight- backed chair on the opposite side of the table. It wasn't the first glass of brandy he'd shared with the don since the night he'd rescued him from the Americanos but it was the first time he'd come to the casa uninvited.

  He took a swallow of the liquor, not rolling it on his tongue as the don always did. He needed the warm feel of the brandy in his stomach.

  "How's the leg, sir?" he asked, putting off the fateful moment.

  Don Alfonso grimaced. "Still keeps me hobbling. But it's healing, no doubt about that. Tia Dolores knows how to cure even if she can't always predict the habits of beasts. Do you know her excuse?"

  Ulysses shook his head.

  "She claims with the full moon concealed, first by the fog, then by the rain clouds, the beast couldn't appear. It seems he only manifests himself under the light of a full moon." The don smiled wryly. "I hadn't realized she believes as Juan does, that the beast is more than an animal, a devil-beast, in fact. I'm afraid I insulted her when I told her the Americanos were devils enough for me."

  Unease rippled through Ulysses and he took another sip of the brandy. Why was he so affected by the words of the bruja?

  "Those particular Americanos will never bother you again," he told the don.

  The morning after the shooting, he and Juan had been sent to bury the two men next to the stream near Shorty's grave. Badly injured as the don had been, he'd insisted on bringing Chico's body back to the hacienda when he and Ulysses had returned in the misty night. The dog was buried in the courtyard.

  "I wish it were that easy to get rid of them all." Don Alfonso poured himself another brandy and held the bottle toward Ulysses, who declined.

  "There's no end to those Americanos," the don went on. "They pour into California like ants from an endless anthill."

  "Then you believe we'll have more trouble?"

  "Of that I'm certain." The don sighed. "I sit here reliving the happy times of the old days. Once I thought there'd be no end to them--but I was wrong." He lapsed into silence, staring into the distance.

  Ulysses was aware he must come to the point. He couldn't tell the don the truth about his past and he wouldn't mention that he had no money and no prospects because that was evident. There was really nothing to be said except a simple request for Esperanza's hand. Simple! He set his glass on the table, took a deep breath and blurted, "Sir, I've come to you to ask a very great favor." Don Alfonso smiled at him. "I owe you my life, mi amigo. Anything you wish is yours."

  Ulysses cleared his throat. Not this one. "My wish is to marry your daughter."

  The don's smile faded as he stared at Ulysses in disbelief. "My Esperanza? You wish to marry her?"

  "Yes, sir. We love one another."

  Don Alfonso straightened in his chair, gathering himself, Ulysses was sure, for a furious refusal. Instead, he leaned on the table and examined Ulysses for a long time. Finally he shook his head and leaned back.

  "First I'll say to you that I don't like the idea, not at all."

  It was no more than Ulysses had expected. He steeled himself against fidgeting and watched the don warily.

  "Are you of our faith?" the don asked.

  Caught unawares by the question, Ulysses fumbled for an answer. How did he know what faith he was, if any? "I'm willing to be, sir," he said finally.

  Don Alfonso grunted. "I'll speak to the priest. Mind you, I'm not certain he'll approve. As for me--" the don paused to finish his brandy--"what can I do? My daughter has always been stubborn, it runs in my family. If she wants you for her husband, as you say she does, then she won't accept another no matter what I say or do. I'll never get the grandchildren I expect and deserve if she shuts herself into a convent, as she's very likely to do if I refuse to let her marry you."

  "I--I'm very grateful," Ulysses stammered, stunned. Never in his wildest imaginings had he expected even a grudging approval.

  "You should be. You will be marrying into an old and distinguished family." Don Alfonso reached across the table and poured more brandy into Ulysses' glass, then into his own. "We will drink to the bethrothal. While you are not the husband I would have chosen for her, I'm not altogether displeased. At least my daughter will wed a strong, intelligent, courageous and loyal young man. As I'm getting no younger, we'll plan for an early wedding. I'd like to see a few grandchildren before I die. Six
weeks should be enough time to arrange the celebration, send the invitations and allow the women to concoct suitable gowns."

  The don seemed healthy enough, Ulysses didn't believe there was much danger of him dying soon. But why object to an early wedding? The sooner Esperanza was his wife, the better. He could hardly wait for the chance to make love to her every night.

  He left the casa with his head whirling, not so much from the brandy as from the rapid and drastic way his life was changing. From a man who had nothing to being the prospective son-in-law of Don Alfonso Alvarado was not only unexpected but somewhat terrifying.

  With no knowledge of his past, did he have the right to marry Esperanza? He didn't know the answer to that question. Would he ever know any more about himself than he did at this moment?

  Standing alone in the night, he stared up at the moon. I'm alive, he thought, I'm in California, and I've named myself Ulysses Koshka. That's the extent of what I know.

  For me, there's only now. I'm young, I don't want my life darkened by fears of the unknown past. Whatever happened then is gone forever. Dead and gone.

  In six weeks Esperanza would be his wife. Six weeks. That meant the moon would be full on their wedding night.

  A night for devil-beasts to roam, according to Tia Dolores. Would she accept him once he was Esperanza's husband?

  Somehow he didn't think so.

  To hell with the bruja and her devil-beasts. She couldn't stop him from marrying Esperanza--he had Don Alfonso's approval. No one could stop him. He grinned, saluted the moon and strolled through the gate, still bemused by his good fortune.

  He fell asleep immediately, only to wake near dawn with unanswered questions coiling through his mind like rattlesnakes poised to strike. Why had he seen that strange symbol on the dDon's palm when first they met? And why had he known the sign meant danger? Why had he found himself naked when he roused that morning by the stream? And why had he dreamed of the taste of blood? Why had the bruja hated and feared him from the moment she set eyes on him? Did she know something he didn't, something he'd forgotten?

  He sat up, the metallic tang of fear on his tongue. An impulse gripped him to grab his clothes and flee, to get away while there was still time. He leaped to his feet.

  "Que pasa?" Juan's sleepy voice asked.

  "Nada." Ulysses stood motionless. He'd spoken the truth. It really was nothing, once he thought about it clearly.

  He loved Esperanza--how could he leave her? Was he to allow a witch's prejudice and a nightmare to chase him away from his unexpected good fortune? As for danger, he was no coward, he'd face whatever perils he had to. He wasn't running, he was staying. And he'd marry Esperanza, no matter what.

  When Ulysses returned to the hacienda the following evening, old Rosa was waiting for him. "You are to move into the casa, Senor Koshka," she informed him.

  He wasn't so sure he wanted to but he knew better than to object. It wasn't proper for Senorita Alvarado's future husband to sleep in the vaquero's quarters. Times being what they were, he might have to do a vaquero's work but that was no disgrace--even the dDon must help with the cattle during the busy seasons.

  Juan watched him gather his meager belongings. "Is it true?" he asked. "Are you to marry Don Alfonso's daughter?" Ulysses nodded.

  Juan whistled. "You are one lucky hombre."

  "I know I am."

  "Don Rafael, he won't be pleased."

  Ulysses shrugged. Whether Don Rafael approved or not, there was nothing the Californio could do about it. He didn't give a damn what Don Rafael thought anyway--after their eventful first meeting they'd been sworn enemies forced to work together peacefully under the don's flag of truce. "He once thought to marry the senorita," Juan said. "Others thought he might, too. All will be amazed."

  No doubt. Ulysses smiled. Esperanza loved him--too bad about Don Rafael and all those others, whoever they were.

  The next morning, as he and Juan left the hacienda,

  Don Rafael was waiting. He scowled at the two of them and jerked his head at Juan, who quickly rode past and kept going. Don Rafael then fell in beside Ulysses.

  "If you ever harm Esperanza in any way," Don Rafael warned, his voice low and menacing, "as God is my witness, I swear I'll kill you. I'd kill you now with the greatest pleasure if I didn't know it would bring her grief."

  Ulysses stared into the Californio's eyes, dark and glittering with hate. Angry, challenging words sprang to his tongue but, before he could speak, Don Rafael spurred El Duro and galloped away.

  In the weeks that followed, Don Rafael didn't so much as glance at Ulysses when they chanced to meet. Ulysses, when he'd cooled down, decided ignoring Don Rafael was the wisest course.

  Every day he expected a belligerent encounter with Tia Dolores but, to his surprise and relief, she avoided him completely. When he was permitted to be with Esperanza for an hour in the evening, Rosa, rather than Tia Dolores, acted as chaperone. He and Esperanza were never left alone together for a moment and no more than a chaste goodnight kiss was allowed between them. He began to think the weeks until the wedding would never pass.

  "Tia Dolores says I can't sit with you for the next three evenings," Esperanza told him at the end of two weeks. "Why not?" he demanded. "God knows Rosa makes certain I can't even kiss you--not the way I want to."

  "Hush, we have only a month more to wait."

  "But if I'm not even to talk to you--"

  "It's only three days. Because of the full moon, she says, I must stay in my room."

  Ulysses frowned. "Are you telling me that Tia Dolores never lets you out of your room when the moon is full?" Esperanza shook her head. "It's only since the beast came to the rancho. She insists I won't be safe when the moon is full unless I'm with her, locked in my room."

  "She's loco!"

  "I would never disagree with you," Esperanza said quietly, "but you misunderstand Tia Dolores. She's odd sometimes but that's because she's a curandera and healers do not think and behave as you and I."

  "She's a bruja!"

  Esperanza's eyes widened. "Oh, no! Witches are evil. Tia Dolores would never harm anyone. When we are married you will get to know her better and then you'll understand."

  He sure as hell didn't want to know the old woman any better. After they were married he damned well meant to do his best to send the bruja back to wherever she came from. Later, still upset, Ulysses spoke to the don about what Esperanza had told him. "Does Senora Dolores actually believe the beast is going to force its way into the casa?" he asked angrily.

  Don Alfonso shrugged. "Who knows what she believes?

  It won't hurt Esperanza to humor her." He smiled and clapped Ulysses on the shoulder. "I feel sure you'll survive being deprived of my daughter's company for an evening or two. In any case, if the nights remain clear, you'll be on sentry duty one of those evenings. Juan's taking tomorrow night, you the next, then Don Rafael."

  Ulysses eyed him thoughtfully. "Then you do believe the full moon somehow attracts the beast."

  "Let's say I find the connection possible. If you recall, it attacked the first time during a full moon. Since there are too few of us to keep patrolling the rancho every night doesn't it make sense to choose times when the beast is most likely to appear?"

  Ulysses nodded. The don's argument was plausible--more so than any prediction of the bruja's--but did nothing to relieve his uneasiness.

  Before retiring, Ulysses walked into the courtyard and gazed up at the almost full moon, feeling a strange and disturbing ache as its silvery rays caressed him, filling him with strange longings. He didn't know how much time passed before he became aware the bruja was watching him. Though he couldn't see her, he sensed her blue energy crackling nearby. "Damn you, witch!" he shouted, turning toward where he sensed she was. "Stop spying on me."

  "Beast!" she spat from the shadows and fled from him.

  He started after her, then held. He knew with a sureness that permeated his very bones that no good came from any confront
ation with a witch. A warning from his past? Wherever the knowledge came from he decided to heed it. Patience, he cautioned himself. You can do nothing now but in a month you'll be Esperanza's husband and then you'll have the right to send the bruja away.

  Why did she call him a beast? She had no reason to.

  He cursed her again before leaving the courtyard on the way to his room. Once inside, he paced from one end of the small bedroom to the other, disturbed by his own restlessness as much as by the witch and her accusations. He yearned desperately for--what? He couldn't put a name to what he wanted and yet it churned within him, an urgent need impossible to fulfill. What seductive promise had he absorbed with the moonlight? What in God's name was the matter with him?

  Though the moon wasn't shining on his side of the casa, he pulled the curtains over the window before hurling himself, fully dressed, on the bed, trying to ignore the mounting desire to fling off his clothes and run naked in the night. Frightened, he closed his eyes and searched his mind for a prayer.

  He could find none.

  Sitting up, he started to kick off his boots. Stopped. No. Whatever beckoned was unknown. Dangerous. A full moon brings death.

  The moon wasn't quite full but almost. He dare not undress, dare not give in to the frenzied need that throbbed through him. His desire for Esperanza, strong though it was, had never gripped him so violently. This urge had nothing to do with the coming together of man and woman or of any kind of mating. It was different. Wrong. Not human.

  Ulysses covered his face with his hands. "No," he muttered. "No. I won't."

  In his desperation, he drew in on himself, his otherwise constant awareness of the energy of others closed off by his inner struggle, a struggle he feared he was losing. Off came the boots, the shirt, the trousers. When the dogs began to bark, he hardly heard them.

  The first he realized anything was amiss was the shout. "Cuidado!" Watch out! Alarm shrilled the man's voice. A gun cracked in the night.