Blood Moon (28 page)

Read Blood Moon Online

Authors: A.D. Ryan

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #mystery, #fantasy, #paranormal, #werewolf

Shards of rock littered the ground, having
broken off a larger one embedded in dirt. I felt a strange jolt of
pain in my back as another flash of a brown wolf pinning me against
it assaulted me. Instinctively, I reached around and placed a hand
on my lower back, trying to pass this off as another coincidence.
Maybe even some kind of post-dream empathy.

Though, it was getting much harder to
deny.

David’s hand rested on my back, and I
recoiled, still trapped in these strange flashes or hallucinations,
and swatted his arm away as I breathed heavily. Reality continued
to slip away until the blackness between visions disappeared
completely and all I saw was this darker wolf on top of me, then
under me, then over me again. His breath was hot and his teeth were
sharp as they bit down on the side of my neck. His bite was
tentative, non-fatal, and his eyes were anything but threatening.
They were playful…and
so
familiar.

I must have recognized this, because I
rolled from beneath him, tail wagging…

Wait
.
That can’t be right.

Before I could even look into that
particular thought, David pulled my focus back to him. “What is
it?” he prodded, his bright blue eyes searching mine for some kind
of clue. “Do you remember something?”

A headache formed at the base of my neck,
everything throbbing even more profusely as I tossed my head back
and forth. Just like that, the strange wolf fight disappeared from
my head, but the sensations that told me it was all too real
lingered: my sore back from being thrown against the rock, my neck
where the other wolf—
Nick?
—bit down…

It was all too much. I couldn’t… It wasn’t
possible… Was it?

Worried, David ushered me to the oversized
rock and sat us down on it. He asked me over and over again what I
remembered, but I avoided the question. What was I supposed to say?
There was no way he’d ever believe me even if I did tell him the
truth. At best, he’d have me committed to the mental health unit at
the hospital and they’d have me evaluated before locking me up in a
padded room.

Besides, I still wasn’t sure I believed it.
I mean, I think I was starting to, but there were so many
questions…

…and only one person who seemed to hold all
the answers.

 

Chapter nineteen | discovery

T
wo days passed
since my disappearing act, and I was still trying to make sense of
everything. The scenes with the wolves played over and over inside
my head. I wanted to keep telling myself that none of it was true,
but I couldn’t. The things I saw seemed too real; if it were all
just a dream, I wouldn’t be feeling the things I felt or smelling
the things I smelled when I thought of them.

I arrived at the park a few blocks from my
house just before four in the morning. David was still at home
sleeping, none the wiser that I’d slipped out of bed to come here.
If he did happen to wake up, I’d taken the liberty of dressing in
clothes fit for an early morning run and left him a note on his
bedside table telling him that was exactly what I was doing.

He continued to be pretty over-protective,
so if he did wake up in an empty bed, I was positive he’d still
flip the hell out.

But I needed answers, and this was the only
way I could think to get them.

The park was empty when I arrived, each and
every piece of equipment uninhabited by children—which only made
sense at this hour. A thick, early morning fog hovered in the air,
making the playground look somewhat frightening. While it was
uncommon this time of year, it definitely set the stage for the
impending conversation.

I grabbed one of the swings and had a seat,
gripping the cold metal chains as I swayed back and forth. The sky
was still dark, the stars bright, and the round moon shining, but I
could see dawn starting to warm the horizon. While I sat there,
waiting, I took in the sights, smells, and sounds of the empty
park. I never would have thought that sunrise had a specific scent,
but it did. I could smell the damp soil, the moisture as it
lingered on the grass, and the condensation in the fog as the
climate slowly changed.

I was so lost to the miniscule changes every
minute that I didn’t sense my company until he stood right behind
me. He startled me when he grabbed my sides and a defensive snarl
surprised me even more as it ripped from my throat. It died in the
relief and realization that it was just Nick being Nick.

He looked at me apologetically, smiling
nervously as he moved around to face me. “Sorry. I didn’t think I’d
scare you. Figured you’d know I was there.”

“I guess I was lost in thought,” I
replied.

Nick claimed the swing next to me, and I bit
back a girlish giggle at the sight of his hulkish frame on a swing
meant for children. He swayed back and forth and side to side, his
eyes on me the entire time.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, eyeing me
somewhat nervously. “Does that mean…you believe me?”

Hesitant to reply right away, I shrugged. “I
don’t want to,” I admitted quietly, looking down as I toed the dirt
with my running shoe. “But, as much as I hate to admit it, nothing
else makes sense.”

“It usually doesn’t at first,” Nick replied
softly, drawing my eyes to his. “Honestly, I’m surprised you came
around as quickly as you did, given your reaction the other
morning.”

“It was…” I paused. “A lot to take in. I
couldn’t allow myself to believe something so…”

“Ridiculous?” I nodded once in response to
his inquiry, and he chuckled lightly. “I get that.”

I watched him carefully, picking up on the
subtle shifts in his expression, body language, and even his scent.
He was nervous about something, and it didn’t take me long to
figure him out: he was here once. I didn’t know how long ago, but
he got it, and it comforted me to know I wasn’t alone.

Every question I’d come up with over the
last couple of days sped through my head, each one of them
colliding with another at some point in the race to be the first
one asked. But I honestly wouldn’t know where to start. How was a
person just supposed to ask these sorts of questions like it was no
different than asking about the weather?

Thankfully, Nick broke the ice.

“So, what do you want to know?”

I sat there, stunned for just a moment
before I decided to say, “You claim that I’m a…”

“A werewolf,” Nick added after I trailed
off, a cocky smirk spreading across his face.

The word still struck me as ridiculous, but
I agreed to hear him out. I fought the denial from sneaking back
in. Hoping to finally get some answers to all the weird stuff that
happened to me, I agreed with a slight nod. “Yeah. That. But what
does it even mean? Howling at the full moon? Silver bullets?
Chasing my tail?”

A loud peal of laughter filled the night
air, and my cheeks heated. Suddenly, I felt stupid that these were
the first questions I asked. Though, I suppose there weren’t many
questions I could ask that wouldn’t sound like I’d seen one too
many horror movies.

When his laughter died down to a low
chuckle, Nick acknowledged my questions. “Silver burns like hell if
we come into contact with it, but any old bullet will do the trick
if the shooter hits his mark.”

I let this information sink in, remembering
the irritation I felt when I wore my silver necklace. I just passed
it off as some kind of allergic reaction, but with everything else
that happened, I suppose this could have been a better explanation.
Especially since I’d never had a problem wearing it for the last
few years…

“The full moon will force a shift in the
beginning,” Nick continued, pulling me out of my silent reverie.
“But as you become familiar with this side of you, you’ll be able
to change whenever.”

Hope swelled in my chest. “So, I’d be able
to avoid this altogether?”

Nick’s face twisted with remorse. “No. You
still need to shift. If you go too long between, you’ll become
volatile—unpredictable—and the wolf could take over at any time.
It…” He sighed, and I thought I saw something in his eyes that told
me he knew this firsthand. “You’ll feel agitated, and the slightest
upset could trigger the transformation. People could get hurt.”

The optimism I felt just a moment ago
deflated, and I absorbed this new information. “Okay, so how long
until I can control it?”

He stared at me, his eyes dark and intense,
and I swore that amber inner ring of his irises appeared brighter
for a second. “The minute you accept it as a part of who you
are.”

“I-I do. I believe you.”

Shaking his head, Nick laughed humorlessly.
“No. You don’t. Not entirely, anyway.” Silence. I was about to
argue when he continued. “You’re coming around, but you haven’t
accepted it yet. Belief and acceptance are two totally different
things, Brooke. Once you accept that this is as much a part of you
as being human, you’ll be in control of it.”

“How long…” I cleared my throat, swallowing
the lump that formed. “What I mean to say is…you’re a…” I had
trouble forming the end of my sentence, so I was grateful when Nick
stepped in.

“You want to know how long until I could
control it? Or how long I’ve been this way?” He lowered his face
but kept his eyes locked on mine. “A werewolf.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, tucking a piece of hair
that had fallen free of my ponytail behind my ear, still unable to
take the word seriously. “That. Have you always been…? I mean, can
it work that way? Can people be born…?”

“Werewolves,” he repeated, this time a
little more firmly. I could tell he wasn’t upset, but he was trying
to get me used to the idea. It wasn’t working as quickly as he
probably hoped. When I nodded, the right side of his mouth curled
up into a half-smirk. “It is possible for someone to be born with
the gene.” Pausing, he seemed to be gauging my reaction. “But I
wasn’t. I was bitten.” He nodded to my shoulder, covered beneath my
light pullover sweater. “Like you.”

A tingle moved beneath my skin, originating
where I was bitten, but it was probably just due to the memory of
that night. “When?”

Nick sighed, running his fingers through his
unruly hair. “Brooke, do you really want to know all of this?”

I answered with a hesitant nod, not sure I
trusted myself to speak aloud. I did want to know, but I was
afraid. Why? Because if I really thought back to the changes in my
own behavior since the attack, I could pinpoint similar changes in
Nick right before…

“Shortly after Bobby’s death.”

…he left me.

Even though I’d already come to this
conclusion a second ago, his confession hit me hard, leaving me
winded. My hands gripped the metal chains of the swing tightly, and
I stared at Nick, unblinking. I wondered if I heard him right, but
the remorse in his eyes didn’t leave me wondering for long. “Seven
years?”

Nick’s head bobbed up and down. “It’s why I
left.”

“No.” The chains rattled as I stood abruptly
and walked away from him. Then I turned and walked toward him. I
was pacing now, thinking about the night he left over and over
before repeating the reasons he gave me that night out loud. “You
told me you needed space.”

“I did.”

“That you were going through some
changes.”

“I was.”

“You wanted me to understand.” I was slowly
losing grip on my calm demeanor, my heart thudding against my ribs,
and my stomach twisting into knots. “But I didn’t understand. All I
knew was that within the span of a few weeks—”

“Just over a month,” Nick interrupted,
garnering himself an evil glare from me.

“Does it really matter?” I demanded coldly.
“I lost Bobby, and then you left. I needed you, and you just
left.”

“I know.” He dropped his gaze, and a pang of
guilt stung me when I recognized his own self-hatred all over his
face. “I think about how we left things every day,” he confessed,
eyes slowly rising again. “But it was something that needed to be
done. I was dangerous. Out of control.”

My hands trembled, the vibration increasing
until it moved through my entire body. I instantly recognized it as
residual anger from Nick leaving me. I shouldn’t have felt this
way. It had been seven years, and I’d moved on with a wonderful
man. Unfortunately, ever since Nick returned I felt like I’d been
on an emotional rollercoaster.

And now this.

Nick stood from his swing and stepped toward
me hesitantly, his eyes continually locked with mine. “That tremble
in your hand…” he started. “Your elevated heart rate… The anger…
The hurt… You’re starting to lose control. You need to harness it.
Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

I don’t know why, but I did as he said.

Inhale.
The smell of the grass and
dirt filled my head, the cool early morning air revitalizing my
body and mind.

Exhale
. I could practically feel my
breath form the cloud against the cool morning air.

Inhale.
Along with the familiar
scents of the nature that surrounded me, I picked up notes of the
woods and a musk that was uniquely Nick. For some reason, this
caused the feeling to dissipate, and as I exhaled, I opened my eyes
to see Nick standing right in front of me. His smile was
wide—proud—and he lifted his right hand to brush his fingers over
my cheek.

“Good,” he praised, his warm breath fanning
over my face and numbing my senses momentarily. It was
intoxicating, even.

My body betrayed me, awakening my desire for
the man who abandoned me in my time of need so many years ago, and
I let him tilt my face toward his as he leaned down. I was so hurt
and confused. Everything I thought I knew had been ripped away, and
all I wanted was to get lost in something familiar… Some
one
familiar.

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