Moonglow (25 page)

“It was pretty amazing, Dom,” Archie adds. “Like watching one of those time-lapse movies where they show a plant growing, but speed it up really fast so it takes a few seconds. You went from wolf to human in about ten seconds.”

Ten seconds of witnessing something no human being thought they would ever witness.

“But, you know, when we realized you were naked,” Archie says, “we looked away.”

“I was naked!”

“Your father was prepared, Dominy,” Nadine offers. “We had your clothes ready, and the boys went in the other room while we dressed you.”

I grip my knee to stop my hand from shaking. This girl I have known for roughly six months dressed me while I was naked and unconscious.

“Don't be embarrassed,” she adds. “I'm used to doing it as a volunteer.”

I know her comment is supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn't.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Archie says, “Caleb peed himself, which is why he's wearing the sweats I brought with me to sleep in.”

Glancing at Caleb I see my boyfriend turn his head away from me. I doubt very much that he can't look at me because he's embarrassed that he wet his pants.

“When it was clear you weren't going to transform again,” my father continues, “we brought you out here . . .”

“But tied me up just to be on the safe side,” I finish.

My father can't even reply; he just nods his head. So Luba's curse isn't just an idle threat; it's real. And the little bit of humanity that it didn't destroy has now been crushed. Not only am I frightened and disgusted, but I'm humiliated as well.

Luba. This woman I've never known, this woman I'll probably never meet, has taken my life and callously and cruelly damaged it beyond repair. If she wanted revenge, why didn't she bring my father to the police, demand justice for the accidental shooting of her husband? Why didn't she do what a normal person would do? The answer is so simple, it terrifies me.

Because evil exists.

“So all of it's true,” I say. “I'm a werewolf because of some Indian woman's curse.”

Heartbroken, my father can only muster up the strength to bow his head.

“And I'm the one who killed . . .”

I have to say the words out loud once and for all.

“I'm the one who killed Jess.”

This time my father finds the strength because he knows I've lost all of mine.

“Yes.”

The sobs overtake my body so quickly I'm not prepared for them. Next the screams come, and I feel something hitting the side of my head. I think it might be Caleb or Archie or Nadine, but it's me; I'm hitting myself, punching my face wildly, without caring what part I touch, as long as I inflict some pain. But I know that I can punch myself from now until the end of time, and it won't equal the pain I inflicted on my friend, my Jess, who I considered my sister, who I loved as much as she loved me.

My father's arms are the first ones I feel around me. I'd know his touch anywhere, his unconditional love and compassion; without it I would be lost, more lost than I feel right now. Doubling over in exquisite pain, I hold on to my father, secure in the knowledge of one thing—that he will never let go. He will never let me fall.

“What have I done?!” I scream. “I killed her!”

“No,” my father whispers.

“Oh my God, Daddy, I did it, I killed Jess!”

“No, no!” This time my father bellows, his voice loud and sure. “You didn't do anything.”

“It was her.”

Archie's voice is like a siren, cutting through the cluster of sounds in the room to create an abrupt silence. I turn to him, but instead my eyes focus on Nadine staring at me. Archie's words repeat in my head:
It was her.
Nadine?

“It was that woman,” Archie continues. “It's Psycho Squaw's curse, Dom, so it's her fault!”

Angrily, I flick tears from my eyes. The feeling is starting to come back to my legs, and I have the need to move. Slowly, I get up, swiping at the air when my father and Archie shoot out their hands to help me.

I need their help, but I don't want it.

I lurch forward and grab onto the arm of the couch until I feel steady enough to move on. Wisely, no one comes to my aid; they just watch my struggle, knowing as I do that at some point, I'll be in control of my body again. Finally, I'm able to stand upright, leaning my hip against the table just in case I need support. Now what I need are answers.

“Why are you two even here?” I say, jutting my head in Archie and Nadine's direction.

“We thought we might as well camp out in the small cabin for the night,” Nadine says.

“And, you know, rag on you in the morning when you didn't transform into a wolf,” Archie concludes.

I can't help but smile.

“Guess the joke's on you two,” I reply.

As expected Archie is the only one who laughs.

“And you?” I say, pointing a finger at Caleb.

Immediately his eyes look away and then slowly return to take in my face. “I told you I thought you were here with Napoleon,” he informs me.

A vague memory latches onto my mind, and I remember Caleb's yelling at me, accusing me of cheating on him with Napoleon. And then I remember my father hitting Caleb with his gun, but then there's only darkness, a dark, blank slate.

“Is that when I transformed?”

In response to my question, my father has one of his own. “You don't remember?”

I feel like I'm in geometry and I'm being asked a question about the previous day's lesson. I hope that information will miraculously fill in my head, but instead my mind starts to wander. I think about what I'm going to wear tomorrow, what color nail polish I should try next, the last funny thing Jess said to me. Jess. Why did I remember her screams and not Archie's?

“Wait a second,” I say. “The last time I transformed, the first time I guess, I distinctly remember hearing Jess's voice, hearing her screams. I don't remember anything else, nothing specific, and I definitely don't remember . . . killing her, but I know that I heard her voice. I was moving toward her to help her. But this time I don't remember anything.”

“You were probably fighting it the first time,” my father offers.

“You probably had no idea what was happening to you,” Archie adds.

“And this time?” I ask.

“Maybe your body has given in to what you truly are,” Nadine says.

I know she didn't mean for her comment to sound so harsh and blunt and irreversible, but it does.

“So you think the true me is a werewolf?!”

“I'm sorry, Dom,” Nadine starts. “I could sugarcoat it, but what's the sense? This woman put a curse on you before you were born, before you were even conceived.”

“So from the day I was born I was cursed,” I say, finishing Nadine's theory.

“No,” my father barks. “Don't think that way, and, Nadine, please don't fill Dominy's head with such garbage.”

“Sorry, Mr. Robineau, it's just how I see it,” she says in her defense.

“Well, I don't see it that way, and neither should any of you!” he yells. “This curse is because of me, no one else, and Dominy's an innocent victim.”

Am I? Could it be that my destiny is drenched in evil? Isn't it true that some people are born that way? They don't learn how to be evil. It isn't a response to their environment, or a sick upbringing; it's merely part of their DNA. Maybe that's me. Maybe I'm living proof that pure evil exists.

“I might be a victim, Dad,” I say. “But I'm far from innocent.”

When my father shouts, it's with a new voice. Harsher and angrier than I've ever heard him sound before.

“Enough! What we need to do is find a way to reverse this curse,” my father declares. “Before anyone else gets hurt . . . or killed. So Dominy and all of us can put this behind us.”

Suddenly I want to feel like an animal, trapped and caged.

“The only way we can put this behind us is to lock me up somewhere!” I shout. “Put me in basement of The Retreat—what's the name of it again? The Dungeon! Yes! Put me there, away from everyone, so I can never hurt anyone again!”

And Nadine is just as quick to lend a helping hand and some rational logic.

“That won't solve the problem at all; it'll only contain it,” Nadine says. “Your father's right. We have to get to the root of this spell. And you can count on me to help do just that.”

“Me too, Dom,” Archie adds. “We'll get to the bottom of it, and then we'll break it. Break it so it can't ever harm another person.”

I can't look at Archie any longer. His unrelenting friendship is too much to bear considering that I almost killed him.

“And I don't care what anyone says,” Archie adds, as if he can read my mind. “I know you wouldn't have hurt me.”

Unrelenting and undeserved.

“How could you know that?!” I scream. “After what I did to Jess!”

Archie doesn't back down from my attack. If anything, it makes him even more certain.

“Because you might have turned into a wolf, transformed into an animal, but your eyes were yours!”

“What?” I ask.

“Your eyes, Dom,” Archie says more quietly, but with the same conviction. “They were yours. They were still connected to you as a person.”

Half girl, half beast. Isn't that delightful? After a moment I realize it is; I wasn't lost; I didn't completely give in. I am like my mother, always fighting to survive against whomever or whatever is invading my body.

“You weren't going to hurt me,” Archie adds. “Right, Nadine?”

Startled, Nadine doesn't answer immediately. But when she does, she agrees with Archie.

“No, I don't think you were,” she says. “I think the only reason you attacked is because you got spooked when your father barged in.”

My father looks at Nadine like she just stuck a knife in his back.

“I'm not accusing you, Mr. Robineau,” Nadine quickly adds. “I'm not. It's just that, well, what other explanation could there be?”

Well, if part of the human me is connected to the wolf me, which one has more power over the other?

“If that's true, then why did I kill Jess?” I ask. “If I could have seen her, I would have never . . .”

“Dominy, you were confused; you had no idea what was happening to you,” my father assures me. “I should've told you everything. You could've been prepared, and nothing bad would have happened.”

“Don't worry, Dom. From now on we got your back,” Archie says. “So nothing bad is ever going to happen again.”

If I didn't believe his words, his hug convinces me that I'll never have to question his loyalty or wonder if I'll receive his forgiveness. But I'm not sure about everyone in the room.

“What about you, Caleb?” I ask. “You've been awfully quiet this whole time.”

This time when Caleb looks at me, it's without hesitation, and the rest of the people in the room vanish. His eyes are incredibly soft, while the rest of his body is solid and strong and ready for battle. I just have no idea if he's going to fight with me or against me.

“I've been quiet because I want to remember this moment,” he says.

“Because it's the moment when everything changed?” I ask.

“Yes,” he agrees. “It's the moment when I realized I'm in love with you.” He's speaking right to me and ignoring the others in the room. “I thought I was before; I thought that I loved you, but I was wrong. This is love, what I'm feeling right now.”

I move closer to the couch and hold on to an arm because I feel my knees buckle. I want his love; I want to feel it drape itself over me, but how can this be true? How can he possibly love me now that he knows what I really am?

“No, Caleb, you don't have to say that.”

“Why not? It's the truth,” he replies.

“How can you . . .
love
me?” I ask.

“Because I've seen you at your worst, Domgirl,” he replies matter-of-factly. “I didn't run away. For a bit there, yeah, I wanted to. My body started to go; I was almost out the door.”

“What stopped you?”

“Guess it was our invisible string,” he replies.

My tears no longer want to purge my body of shame and guilt and ugliness. This time they want to celebrate and praise and share the joy that I'm feeling. It's disconcerting to feel so wonderful, so complete at a time like this, but that's how I feel. And fighting against joy, like fighting against a curse, is a losing battle. So I surrender.

“I assume invisible strings are part of a private joke or something,” my father says.

Before I can explain, Nadine fills him in.

“From
Jane Eyre,
” she correctly surmises. “Jane and Mr. Rochester are connected by a piece of invisible string that is tied from one rib to the other.”

“I must've missed that one,” my father replies, smiling.

“No matter what happens, Dominy, no matter where this curse leads you, I'll be right by your side,” Caleb continues. “Never doubt my words. And never doubt my love.”

I can hardly speak, but I have to.

“Thank you, Caleb,” I whisper. “I never will.”

He kisses me softly on my lips, still not caring that there are others nearby. It's a chaste kiss, a simple gesture to show that we are connected, now and for always. When he wraps his arms around me, I allow their strength to take over, so I can let go of mine. I may be the only one who's cursed, but I know that I can't survive on my own.