I have been working on the first part of Midnight Moon and hopefully soon I can reveal it to you. But for now, I can show you an excerpt of the first part of Episode One, “The Most Important Thing.”
Now this is rough, and I’m probably going to add more to this scene. But this just gives you an idea of what’s going on.
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“You know, I think warm milk would be better at a time like this. Works good for me.”
Moira-Selene whirled abruptly and jumped at the sight of the silhouette in her doorway. The glass in her hand fell prey to gravity as her fingers went loose in shock. The drinking glass shattered in the stainless steel sink and shards went flying. One nicked her on the arm but she ignored the slight sting. It was quite trivial in comparison.
It had been nearly ten years since she had seen him, but she knew that he was always there, hovering in the air like a wisp of smoke. He had recently appeared in her too-vivid dreams, heralding a shift from the life she had built with her long stint in medical school to one with horrors she thought she’d escaped. She hadn’t wanted to face the fact that her past would come rising up to meet her like a tsunami, but her rational mind told her it would only sweep her away if she denied its existence.
“How did you get in here?” Moira-Selene asked, which was no surprise to him. Miss Practical, down to a fault. It didn’t matter why he was there but more how he got in. Or at least that was what she focused upon to keep her sanity. He hated to think what would happen if she were really robbed…but really for the burglar, because Moira-Selene would try to reason with him before having to maim him. And thanks to several years of training with one of the best martial artists known to man, she could.
Moira-Selene’s late-night visitor stepped into the dim light from the stove, coolly elegant to her practical. His privileged upbringing made him used to the Italian loafers he wore on his feet and the designer clothes in which he was currently clad, but Moira-Selene knew that was only a costume. The guise obscured what had been obvious to her for over ten years: he was not your average rich guy. However, there was nothing quite typical about a man who could call up fire at will, turn himself into an animal, or topple a brick building. In fact, sometimes, to Moira-Selene, Kaneshi Tsukimori—better known as Kane—seemed absolutely terrifying.
She had heard little about him since the Break—what others, outsiders, had nicknamed the disbanding of their tight little group. She knew that he was still at odds with his powerful father and had not spoken to his little sister in several years because of the deep-seated feud that had left one dead and nine others estranged. Well, actually, only seven of them were estranged; Kane and Miyori Arashi had been colleagues for several years due to Kane’s position in Arashi Corp, Father Tsukimori’s financial adversary and the Arashi family business. The man that Kane had become was mysterious, refined, and dangerous.
“I let myself in,” he responded smoothly in a deep voice that was currently the consistency of buttercream. When Moira-Selene opened her mouth to speak, he added, “I could feel your discontent from several miles away, Moira-Selene.”
Moira-Selene crossed her arms over her chest, a little disturbed that her troubled state had been amplified enough for others—particularly him—to feel and that he still had the connection to her despite all these years. “Dammit, you came into my apartment without permission—”
“This is not the time to lecture me on breaking and entering,” Kane interrupted her firmly, reminding her at once of his power. “There is something bigger going on here, and I’d appreciate if we saved the chastisement for another time, preferably long enough for you to forget it.”
Moira-Selene’s mouth set in an irritated line as she shifted toward him, arms still crossed over her chest. “I don’t appreciate you barging into my apartment at an indecent hour, Kane. You could have called me first.”
“I’m sorry if I couldn’t find your phone number—oh wait,” he said ironically, “you never gave it to me because you were too busy running away.”
Moira-Selene’s eyes flicked toward the nearest clock and decided not to address her behavior during the Break. “Perhaps we could talk about this at a different time, preferably one where the sun is shining.”
“You know I move best at night, Moira-Selene. Not to mention, I don’t want anyone to know I’ve come to see you at the moment. It would put you in considerably more danger than you are in already.”
As the meaning of this dawned on her, Moira-Selene’s face went blank and her arms dropped to her sides. She was not a mind-reader—she wasn’t the one with those talents, but she knew of a good one—but she knew without asking that Kane had something quite grave to tell her. All fatigue burned away and left concern in its place.
“How bad is it?” Moira-Selene wanted to know. When he didn’t say anything, she steeled herself and added, “Who else have you contacted?”
For the first time since she had discovered him there, he looked uneasy. “Just you, so far,” he revealed. He gave her a long look before reaching out with his powers and healing the weeping scratch on her upper arm. The strange sensation of rapid healing had her looking in wonder at her arm even though that she had known such power was possible. When she turned back to him, her eyes were damp.
“So I suppose you expect me to help you bring the others around,” Moira-Selene surmised, her voice thick with emotion. “Well, I can’t help you if I don’t know what I’m up against.”
Kane held out a hand to her wordlessly. In her experience with him, it was when he simply acted and said nothing that he frightened her.
