Read Silver Moon Online

Authors: Rebecca A. Rogers

Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban

Silver Moon (12 page)

Jana giggles. “You could say that.”

 
We pull into the parking lot at the back of
Livia’s
. I jog to the front door, ready to get out of the arctic air. Jana dilly-dallies like it doesn’t bother her. I don’t see how.

Once inside, I halt. Standing behind the counter is Lily.

“Oh, hey, Candra,” she says.

“Hey,” I reply. A pang of jealousy rips at my stomach lining.

Jana enters the store. “Hey, Lily,” she says, completely oblivious. Nobody knows how I feel about
him
. I should continue to play it off that way.

“I got the new shipment logged and ready for display,” says Lily. She steps down from the platform behind the counter. She and Jana walk toward the employee’s only area in the back.

I don’t want to follow. Instead, I barely step inside the back area, when I drop off my bag and turn on my heels. The front needs to be watched, anyway.

After their conversation, Jana steps into the customer area of the store. Lily’s right behind her, of course.

“Okay, thanks for helping out today,” Jana says.
  

“No problem. I’ll see
ya
later.” Lily turns and her eyes slice into mine. “You’re not the only one who loves him.”

I can’t even reply. How am I supposed to?

After the small bell above the door rings, signaling Lily’s departure, Jana looks at me and says, “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” I mumble.

“Look, whatever it is, I’m sure it can be worked out. She’s a nice girl.”

“I’m sure she is.” I bite the tip of my tongue.

Jana hesitates before saying, “This isn’t about Ben, is it?”

“What? No. Of course not!” But who am I trying to kid? That’s
exactly
why I can’t stand her. Jana’s right—I don’t know her. I
should
give her a chance.

Jana’s mouth turns into a devious smile. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

My insides swirl.

“I need some fresh air,” I exclaim, rushing out the door. I have no idea where I’m going. I just need to get away, to stop thinking about how crappy my situation is.

The more I walk, the more my legs burn against the frigid climate. Come to think of it, my lungs burn too. I wrap my arms around each other in hopes it’ll provide some additional warmth. It doesn’t do much.

Crystallized flakes begin to fall from the heavens. I brave the wind that blisters me down to my bones. One hand lying flat, I catch the tiny pieces of glitter. As soon as they touch me, they melt. Down the street, kids dance with joy. Someone drives by, honking, and yells, “Hell yeah! It’s snowing!”

I laugh. This is what I need.

But when I notice a black BMW creeping behind me, my body tingles. This time, it’s not because of the cold weather. I play it off like I don’t notice, but with every few steps I take, the car slinks beside the sidewalk, jumping from parking space to parking space. My nerves scream. Veins in my head pound against my skull. My heart tries to squeeze through my ribcage.

Maybe if I slip into a shop, they’ll disappear.
So, that’s what I do. It’s a vintage store. I don’t catch the name. I aim to blend in with some clothing, and stay far enough back from the display window, so whoever’s in the car can’t see me.

A few minutes later, I’m thinking this is a bad idea. Not only does the car
not
move, but the clothes smell like a combination of cigarettes and musty attic. Gross.

Where’s a cell phone when I need it?
Mom and Dad took mine away as part of my punishment. They obviously forgot about emergency situations.

I’ll make a run for it. That’ll work. They won’t have enough time to get out of their car and catch up. I’m a good runner…I think.

“Can I help you?” The cashier’s monotone voice startles me. One eyebrow rises higher than the other and she stares at me like I should be in a different jacket than one I’m wearing—preferably a white one that ties behind my back.

Damn hippie.

“No, I’m good. I have a stalker, and I’m hiding. It’s cool,” I say. That should further her beliefs about my needing a padded cell.

“I can let you out the back door,” she says, motioning to the employee’s only area and giving me one of those wow-this-girl-is-stupid looks.

“Really? That’d be great right about now,” I say.
 

“Follow me.” She hops off her stool and leads me through the back.

Two guys sit at a table, playing cards and smoking what I’m pretty sure aren’t cigarettes. I’m met by a hazy wall as I pass them. Both wear disgusting brown jackets and their hair is unkempt. Images of a werewolf mafia scroll through my head for a brief second, but I push them aside.

“Through here,” the hippie chick says. She points to a back door with a dimly glowing exit sign above it.

“Thanks,” I say, and manage a smile.

Outside, the snow hammers the sidewalks, rooftops and cars. The door leads me to an alley. I’m not sure exactly which direction to take. I can brave the main walkway and hope my stalker doesn’t see me slip by, or I can stay behind the buildings until I reach
Livia’s
.

I decide on the path behind the buildings. I don’t want to risk anything.

It takes me
forever
to find
Livia’s
. Everything looks so different from the backside. I’m short on breath and my nose feels ablaze and numb at the same time. How is that possible?

“Wow. That must’ve been the longest walk ever!” Jana exclaims when I burst through the door. The bell overhead clinks and Mr. Frost is close on my heels.

Out of breath, I get by with saying, “Yeah, it was.”

“Cold doesn’t do much for your complexion. You look like you’ve been possessed by a ghost.” She frowns, assessing my features.
 

“No, I don’t,” I mumble.

“Nobody’s come in since you left. I think they’re too busy playing in the snow.” She walks over to the left display window and places her hands firmly on her hips. “There’s a space heater in the back.”

I hurry to find it. My hands might be frostbitten by now and turning into green piles of mush. I’ve
got
to get some gloves.

While I’m toasting my hands, I think about the BMW. Immediately Cameron crosses my mind. Surely he wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Then again, his family runs this town.

~*~

When I get home later, I want to pass out and forget the weird stuff. I don’t know about this werewolf thing, but, from what I understand, I don’t have much of a choice on the transformation part. Werewolf blood runs through my veins, and trying to escape it won’t help. This isn’t the cops or school. No, I must face this. I
have
to come to terms with what I am. Only then can I really understand my purpose here.

I pick up the phone and punch a string of numbers on the keypad.

A woman picks up on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom,” I say.

“Baby, is that you?” Her voice is a cross between thrilled and surprised.

“Yeah,” I reply, which escapes my lips as more of a short laugh. I twirl a strand of hair around my finger and situate myself on the bed.

“It seems like it’s been so long since I talked to you. How’s everything—school, friends?” Her words come out in one big rush.

“Mom, slow down.”

“Sorry, I’m a little overjoyed right now.” The last two words increase in volume and I know it’s her tearing up. She clears her throat.

“Everything going good. School is school.” My head bobs from side-to-side.

“Candra…what about those grades?”

“My grades are fine. It’s easier here, believe it or not.”

She begins to say something, but must think better of it.

I continue. “I’ve made a couple of friends.”

“Really? Oh, honey, that’s great! What are their names?”

“Jana and Blake,” I reply. I pick at the aglet on the end of my shoelaces.

“Well, I’m so happy for you. If your father was home, I’m sure he’d love to talk to you. They’ve got him pulling overtime. Can you believe that?”

“That sucks,” I tell her. “Listen, I wanted to say that I know why you guys sent me here.”

My statement is followed by dead air.

Finally, Mom says, “They told you? Already?”

“Yep.”

“They were supposed to wait until closer to your eighteenth birthday. Oh, sweetie, we’re so sorry this happened. We wanted to keep you here, but we aren’t strong enough to contain you. When you got in trouble, we used that as an excuse for sending you away. We didn’t
want
to do this, but couldn’t see any way around it.”

“It’s not too bad. I mean, it sucks that my own parents couldn’t tell me what I am; they leave long, lost relatives to do the work for them.”

Mom breaks out into one of her full episodes.

I say, “I’m not holding it against you guys, just think it was a crappy way to do things,” before she manages to choke out a few words of her own.

“We love you, baby. We wanted the best for you. Randy and Beth are familiar with transformations and powers. Your father and I—we stopped using ours once we learned we’d have you.”

“You know what really sucks? I’m trapped, waiting to hear this is a sick joke, because I have a rival pack determined to make my life a living Hell, and nobody seems to care.” I’m so upset I can’t even sit on my bed anymore. I pace around the room, and open the window for cool, fresh air.

“I had no idea…” she whispers.

“Well, welcome to my life. This is what you guys threw me into. I have to deal with this until next year. If I’m seriously injured because of

them, I’m blaming you two,” I say, hanging up. For a minute, I stand perfectly still—my hand grasping the phone—and come to terms with everything that transpired. I know my words sting. I know they’ll be upset. But they have every right to know what it’s like for me.

Chapter Twelve

I
f Beth has talked to Mom in the short time between last night and now, she hasn’t mentioned it to me. I get ready for school, bound down the stairs to open the front door, and immediately stop. A black BMW with tinted windows is parked in our driveway.

The passenger door opens.

“Get in,” a male voice orders.
 

I hesitate for a second and think about walking to school in the rain and how everyone will laugh at the wet, sloppy mess I’ll be if I don’t take this ride. Then I think about all those child abduction cases, and the kids’ faces pinned to the bulletin boards.

I lower my head, taking a peek inside. The guy behind the wheel is Ben.

For a reason I can’t explain, I know I’ll be okay. I hold my breath and slide into the passenger seat.

Inside, the grey leather smells new, and the shiny, chrome accents gleam around every edge on the dash. I’ve never seen so many knobs and buttons.

He laughs when I shoot him a puzzled look. “What?” he asks.

“You were following me yesterday, weren’t you?” I demand, holding his eyes with my own.

He floors the gas pedal.

“Following? No, just riding around. You should really stop being so paranoid.” His face is full of mockery, as he pretends to scold me.

I want to slap him.

“I’m
not
paranoid. I know a stalker when I see one, Ben Conway. Why are you picking me up for school? Since when do
we
hang out?”

He locks the brakes, slinging me forward. My head almost hits the dash, but luck has it I remembered to wear my seatbelt.

“Are you crazy?”

“I’m not a stalker, just a nice guy who recalled one of his classmates didn’t have a car to drive to school. Personally, I think it would suck to walk in the rain, but if you prefer, you can get out now.”

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