03 Long Night Moon - Seasons of the Moon (4 page)

BOOK: 03 Long Night Moon - Seasons of the Moon
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Outside, the world was hushed by snow. A plow crept past flashing yellow lights. Rylie stuffed her hands into her pockets, scanning for Seth and the truck.

He wasn’t there, but someone else waited across the street in a long white jacket. Bekah.

“What do you want?” Rylie asked without raising her voice. A werewolf’s hearing wasn’t as good as its smell, but it was better than a human’s. She would have been able to hear a whisper at that distance.

“I want to talk to you,” she said, toying with the star necklace so it caught the light and flashed at Rylie. “Come with me. We’ve got lots to cover and not a lot of time.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want anything to do with you. Get out of my town!”

“Please? It’s important.”

“No!”

Bekah tucked the necklace into her jacket. “Look me up when you change your mind. But don’t take long. You’re not safe here.”

She walked away, jacket trailing behind her.

A burst of curiosity struck Rylie. She wanted to see Bekah Riese’s den. No, not den—people didn’t live in dens; they lived in
houses
. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, it became an uncontrollable impulse.

Rylie ran across the street. She hit a patch of hidden ice and slipped, catching herself on the lamp post.

The other girl vanished around the corner of a bakery. By the time she found her footing and made it to the sidewalk, Bekah was gone. A huge, shaggy dog with honey-brown fur trotted away, fluffy tail leaving swishing patterns in the snow.

It glanced at her from the end of the street. Even at that distance, Rylie could see its gold eyes.

It bounded over a fence, down a hill, and disappeared.

Rylie gaped at the gray sky. The sun was up and the moon was nowhere to be seen.

How could a werewolf transform during the day?

Five
Casting Silver

When Seth still hadn’t shown up twenty minutes after Bekah’s weird disappearance, Rylie decided to find him.

Like everything else in town, the apartment Abel rented was a short walk from the therapist’s office. The complex had been converted from a strip motel, so there were only six rooms, and the sign said there were vacancies (though the neon had died years ago). The red truck was parked in front of the apartment at the end, and it was already coated in a thin layer of snow.

Rylie raised her fist to knock on the door before she noticed it was cracked open. Warm air gusted through the gap at the bottom. A foul odor touched her nose, metallic and familiar.

“Seth?” she called, pushing the door open.

The owners left the tacky carpet when they converted it, so the room still looked like a motel despite the sixty-inch TV Abel bought with his first paycheck. The bathroom door was half-open, too, and the smell grew worse as she approached it.

Something hissed beyond the door. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to throw up.

There was a camp stove in the bathtub. Leaping blue flames licked the bottom of a steel pot, where the horrible smell was coming from. Another pot sat next to the tub filled with bars of gray metal, like the kind of ingots she expected to find at a bank.

A bunch of tools were laid out on the counter—thick gloves, eye goggles, a face mask, and tongs. There was also something that looked like the molds she once used to make candy, but she doubted it was for chocolate.

She heard the apartment door open and shut.

“Get out of there!”

Seth slammed into the bathroom. Shocked, she took a step back. Her leg hit the pot and she lost balance.

He grabbed her arm before she could fall into the tub, fingers digging into her skin. “Let go of me,” Rylie said as he jerked her back. “That hurts!”

Seth hauled her out of the bathroom and shut the door, wheeling around to grab her shoulders and look closely at her face. “What are you doing? Are you
insane
?”

“You didn’t show up when my appointment finished. I got worried.”

“Look at me, Rylie. Eyes wide open,” he said.

The order was so confusing that all she could do was obey. He thumbed back her eyelids and peered into her eyes. He looked worried. Really worried. “What was all that stuff?” she asked.

“You can’t buy silver bullets at the store,” Seth said.

He pushed her to the kitchen sink and scrubbed her hands under hot water.

“You mean you were making bullets?”

“Yeah, and what if you inhaled silver particles? You shouldn’t have gone in there.” He released her, and Rylie’s knees were so weak that she had to sit on the edge of his futon before she fell over. “I think you’re fine. We got lucky.”

Rylie had been shot with a silver bullet before. It was the most painful thing she ever experienced. Werewolves couldn’t heal around silver, and if it stayed in the bloodstream, it was poisonous. She didn’t want to think of what would happen if she breathed it into her lungs.

She wiped her hands on her jeans just in case. “Why would you make something that can kill me?”

“It’s not for you,” Seth said. He looked uncomfortable.

She bit her lip and ducked her head. Knowing he made silver bullets shouldn’t have surprised her—the whole reason they met was because he hunted the werewolf who bit her, after all—but it did. It was an unpleasant shock.

He knelt in front of her. “You have to be careful in my apartment. Abel and I have a lot of things that can kill you.” Seth frowned. “Are you crying?”

Rylie swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I saw Bekah again. She was waiting for me when I got out of my appointment.”

“What did she want?’

“I don’t know. She was just… waiting. And that’s where it got weirder.” She picked at her thumbnail, trying to decide if she should tell him what she saw, even though it was impossible.

“How weird?”

She shook her head. “It sounds nuts.”

“All of this is nuts.”

Good point. “Bekah transformed. She turned a corner and… poof. Wolf. It took five seconds.” Rylie gave him a helpless smile. “It’s not possible. I must have lost it.”

Seth’s expression went distant with thought. She waited for him to say something insightful—to explain how it was possible for someone to become a wolf without all the screaming and pain involved in her transformation, or how she had to be mistaken. But he only looked thoughtful.

“So? What are we going to do about it?” she asked.

He shook himself. “You need to go home. Gwyn’s waiting for you.”

“But—”

“I have to finish the bullets while everything is hot. You can’t be here.”

He walked her to the truck. Rylie got in, but didn’t immediately close the door. “Will you tell me before you hunt them?”

Seth grinned his lopsided grin. “Maybe.”

He shut her door and went inside without waiting for her to leave. Rylie’s hands squeezed tight on the steering wheel.

She was halfway home before she realized what was so wrong about Bekah and the star on her necklace.

It was silver.

 

Abel’s car was parked out front when she got home, but he was nowhere to be seen. Gwyneth sat on the living room floor surrounded by boxes labeled “Christmas Decorations” in permanent marker, although none of them were open yet.

“You’re late,” her aunt said without preamble. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles, and she had knotted her graying hair into a simple bun instead of the usual braids.

“I had my appointment today.”

“That ended over an hour ago.”

“The weather was bad coming back, so I drove slow,” Rylie said. “Aren’t you always telling me to be careful?”

“Guess I am. Grab something sharp and help me open these things.”

She fetched two knives from the kitchen and handed one to Gwyn. The boxes exploded musty air when sliced open. Ryle breathed in the distant holiday odors of years past: pine and gingerbread and nutmeg.

“That smells nice,” she said.

“What does?”

Rylie took a second sniff. It was probably too faint for Gwyn to pick up. She forgot most people didn’t smell like she did. “Never mind. These boxes are really dusty.”

“I didn’t decorate last year. Or the year before. I’ve never been much for Christmas, but it doesn’t seem right to let it pass unobserved now you’re here.” Gwyn smiled wryly. “And I know Jessica’s going to expect a big Christmas when she arrives.”

Rylie rolled her eyes. The less she thought about her mom’s impending visit, the better. “I’m going to Australia for the rest of the year. I’ve just decided.”

“Only if I can go with you.” She liked Jessica even less than Rylie did.

“It’s a deal.”

They emptied the box of knotted Christmas lights first. Gwyn untangled them on the couch while Rylie hung garland. She tried not to notice how gaunt her aunt looked. She had lost a lot of weight recently and was completely lost in her sweater.

Rylie glanced through the window as she decorated, half-expecting Bekah to be lurking outside. The only person she saw in the fields was Abel, but he wasn’t much better.

“What’s Abel been doing here all day?” Rylie asked. “He was in the kitchen at breakfast this morning.”

“I asked him to come.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my employee and I can do that,” Gwyn said. “Two particularly ambitious heifers birthed today. He helped.”

“But you always do that stuff yourself. Why are you inside if we’re calving, anyway? You can’t tell me the snow bothers you.”

Gwyn shoved the first strand of lights into her arms. “Put that over the window.”

Her tone of voice left no room for questions. It meant Gwyn considered the topic to be none of her business, and pushing it would probably get her “volunteered” for an awful chore. Considering half their cows were pregnant, Rylie could see herself shoulder-deep in birthing fluids way too easily. She didn’t want to find out how much a cow would panic over a werewolf midwife.

“Should Seth help too?” Rylie asked.

“I’ve got his number if I need him. That boy has a lot of homework that needs to come first.” Gwyn cast a sideways look at her. “Speaking of homework…”

She sighed. “But it’s
Friday
.”

“I wouldn’t put off my work if I was you. Did you know the dean of students called me this afternoon? Your grades are slipping.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be confidential?”

“Your flesh is mine until you’re eighteen, babe.” Gwyn gave an evil chuckle, and Rylie tried not to make a face.

The front door opened with a blast of cold air. Abel’s towering form filled the doorway as snow gusted around his feet. His scarred face was covered by a scarf. “Rylie,” he began, and then he noticed Gwyneth. His tone changed. “Afternoon. What’s going on here?”

“We’re decorating. What are your thoughts on scaling very tall ladders to hang lights?” Gwyn asked.

“Depends on how much you’re paying me. Can I talk to you outside, Rylie?” He kept his tone casual, but she detected a hint of urgency.

She dropped the Santa Claus potholders on the coffee table. “Sure,” she said, trying to sound equally casual, even though being asked to talk by Abel sent her into panic mode. Had something happened? Was Seth hurt?

“Don’t be long,” Gwyn said. “Dinner’s soon.”

“I’m just going to show her something. Won’t be long at all,” Abel said.

Rylie pulled on a hat and gloves and followed him outside. It took her three steps to match each of his long-legged strides, and he didn’t wait for her to keep up.

His smells enveloped her even though she stayed well out of arm’s reach. In some ways, he resembled Seth. They shared that gunpowder smell, and the faint tang of stomach-churning silver. But even though he had never been to Gray Mountain, he had that smell of cold stone and ice rivers, too.

She was so distracted by Abel’s odor that she didn’t notice where they were going. He stopped at the duck pond and looked at her expectantly. The scarred side of his face was pale with cold.

“What?” she asked.

He waved in the general direction of the pond. “There. Can’t you tell?”

Rylie looked again. Abel’s boot prints flattened the snow, and tire tracks crossed the field from the gate toward the trees. She stepped closer to gaze at the ice. The wind shifted.

And that was when the smell struck her.

“Bekah,” she said.

“Who?”

“Bekah Riese.” She took several short sniffs. Pictures splashed through her mind—thick fur, pine trees, and silver. There were two distinct creatures, and she didn’t know the second. “I think her brother was here, too.”

Rylie tracked the smells around the pond. They were a few hours old. Bekah and Levi must have explored during the night, while the moon was high. She followed their traces to the top of a nearby hill.

When she turned around, she could see the house perfectly. Had they watched her transform?

Abel was right behind her. “You say Bekah and Levi Riese are the new werewolves. Are you
sure
that’s them?” She hesitated before nodding. “I’m serious. How sure are you?”

She swallowed hard. “Deadly sure.”

“They’re on our territory,” Abel said.

Something about the way he growled
territory
struck a chord within her. She could feel the wolf press against the inside of her ribs.

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