Red Moon Rising (13 page)

T
he girls are out shopping and Troy is in Romania on business, so it seemed like a good time to tell her. She is not taking the news well.

Mom screamed at Dad like it was his fault. He waited until she was done.

It's been a while since I've seen them in the same room together. One thing I notice now is that, even though they're about the same age, he looks ten or fifteen years older than she does. Vampyres don't age the same way wulves and humans do.

She pours herself a drink. Nothing for him.

“Look, Kat,” he says.

“I've told you, I don't go by ‘Kat' anymore.”

“Okay, fine.
Katherine
. I don't know why you're acting like this is a total surprise.”

She ignores his comment. “Who is this so-called doctor, anyway? Maybe he's wrong. If I had been
told
about this, I would have found a top-notch specialist. And that's what I'm going to do.”

“Great idea. Your top-notch specialist is going to report Danny to the LPCB, as he's required to do. My guy is committed to a cause. Money can't buy everything.”

She turns my way. “So clearly this is what all that odd behavior was about.”

“Yeah. I wasn't ready to tell you. Yet.”

“Of course not. I'm only your mother. Why shouldn't I be left completely in the dark?”

“Lookit. Kat,” Dad says. She shoots him a look. He smiles, trying his best to seem patient. “Katherine, then. Listen. When we had kids, you knew half their genes would be mine. Twenty-three vampyre chromosomes and twenty-three wulven ones. It's biology.”

“That's exactly why we did the genetic treatments. On both kids. Something you agreed to, I might add.”

“Right,” Dad said. “Because I didn't want them to suffer through the Change. Nobody would want that for their kids.”

“We also didn't want them to grow up with the stigma. We didn't want the children to be wulven.”

“No, Kat,
you
didn't want them to be wulven. That's
your
issue. I just didn't want them to suffer.”

She glares at him. His jaw is set. He's not giving an inch.

She turns to me. Maybe I'm imagining it, maybe I'm being too sensitive, but I would say she's looking at me the same way she would look at a pig or a monkey that had run loose in the house and soiled her white carpet.

She turns away. “What am I supposed to tell Troy?”

“You don't tell him one damned thing. Nothing.”

“You expect me to keep this secret from my husband?”

“Danny is your
son
. If word gets out, even by a slip, think of what could happen to him.”

“I can't…I just cannot abide this.”

That really pisses me off. “So, what do you want me to do?” I ask. “Disappear? Move out? Say the word, and I'll go live with Dad. Is that what you want?”

She stops for a couple of seconds, which is a couple of seconds too long, before she says, “No, of course not. I'm not saying that at all.”

But I saw it. That hesitation. The right answer would have been immediate. Instantaneous. A clear
Absolutely not! We'll figure out some way to make this work. You're my son, and I love you, no matter what
. Not quite the answer she gave.

Now I
really
want to get out of here. Not just out of the room. Out of the house. I go over to Dad and whisper to him. “
Could
I stay at your place for a while?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He talks to my mother's back. “Maybe it's a good idea for Danny to stay with me for now.”

“I'm not sure we need to do
that
,” she says. “I'll certainly be able to come up with a solution once I have a chance to think. I just need a moment.”

It takes me maybe five minutes to pack a bag and get out to his car.

I don't say good-bye. I don't say anything when I leave the house.

I sit on the bed and stare at the duffel I brought. Should I unpack? I mean, how long will I be here? When it comes down to it I have no idea what's going on anymore, where I'll be, or even
what
I'll be, a few weeks from now.

I'm in the room where I slept when I used to come on the weekends years ago. Same bed, same little dresser, same blackout curtains over the window. It's all the same, but everything feels different now. There's a soft knock, and Dad pushes the door open. He leans against the frame.

“I'm sorry it went that way with your mother.” He squints at the door hinge and touches it like he's checking to make sure it's straight. I think he just doesn't want to look at me.

“Should I go ahead and put my stuff in the dresser?”

“I guess so. No reason not to.”

I'm waiting for him to say, “Don't worry. She'll come around,” or something, but he just sighs.

I get up and drag the duffel over to the dresser. It's a simple wood bureau, and the drawer squeaks when I open it. “I can't believe she's just going to give up on me.”

He doesn't say anything for a while. I put my socks in the drawer. I probably should have brought more.

“Look,” he says. “You know I try not to talk bad about your mother to you. But the truth is that she can be a difficult woman at times.”

“She's not difficult with Troy. Or Jess. Or Paige.”

“Well, I don't know about that.”

“She's difficult with you and sometimes with me. It's pretty obvious why.”

“Yeah? And why's that?”

“Um, duh? She's got a thing against wulves.”

“I won't argue that. But I can't see her taking it out on you.”

“Really? What just happened an hour ago?”

“We did take her by surprise with some pretty big news.”

“It's not just that. She wants me to be blond, she wants me to be taller, more…She wants me to be a vamp.”

“On the surface, maybe,” he says, but if he's trying to change my mind about her, or make me feel better, it's not working.

“Come on, Dad. Seriously. She's disappointed that I didn't turn out all blond and vamplike. For her, everything turned to crap when my genetic treatments didn't work and she ended up with half a doglet.”

“No,” he says. “It wasn't like that at all.”

I shrug. “Whatever. It doesn't make any difference now. We have too much other stuff to worry about.”

“That's true. But we will get through this,” he says. “That's one thing I can promise you.”

That's a lie. He means well, but he doesn't know. He can't promise. Being a wulf means a lot of things, but it doesn't mean you can predict the future.

M
s. O'Conner is in the front of the room, holding the Shakespeare book with her finger stuck inside to keep her place. “I know all of you read the first act of
King Wain
last night, as assigned.” Um, no, actually. I completely forgot. “So we're going to look at Wain's monologue to Merinio in Act one, Scene four.” She opens her book and waits for us to find the page. When almost everyone has found it, she starts to read:

“Come, Merinio, bring my sword and dagger. Marry, I will gird myself and faithful, I will cut out their hearts. They are curs, the filthy wulves and devilish vampyres. Wherefore they doth breathe the air we breathe, walk in the light of our moon, under the heavens above man. They doth offend mine senses and spirit. Would that they had withered in their mothers' accursed wombs, never to sully the eyes or spirit of man.”

All at once a hammering headache and a tidal wave of nausea hit me.

I make it to the boys' room and manage to ride out the nausea by splashing cold water on my face. By sheer determination, I manage not to puke. Over and over, I repeat in my mind, “Come, Merinio…they are curs, the filthy wulves…”

The nausea passes, but I'm still left with a pulsing headache. I don't know why I'm getting these symptoms in the middle of the lunar cycle, with two more weeks before the full moon. The end-of-period bell goes off.

I have to get my books and stuff from Ms. O'Conner's room before Math, so I work my way through the kids filling the hallway as I head back that way. I feel a firm hand on my elbow and I turn.

It's Juliet. “Are you okay?” she asks, her voice full of worry.

“I just got this really sharp headache and needed to get out of the room. But it passed.”

“It must have killed. You ran out of class like you'd been set on fire.” She puts the back of her hand softly against my cheek. She has a concerned look on her face, and I feel rotten for lying to her.

“It goes away as fast as it comes on. I'm totally fine.”

“That's a relief.” She smiles and her eyes crinkle at the corners.

“So you have a free period now, right?”

“Yup,” she says.

“How about that. So do I. Feel like doing something?”

“Hmmm. Maybe.” She pretends to mull it over, then turns to me with her eyebrows raised. “What'd you have in mind?”

A few days ago, Juliet and I found a huge, dark storage room at the top of an unused stairwell that was at the end of a service tunnel at school. It's not like we were the first to discover it. Teachers don't typically explore dank tunnels and custodians don't care enough to check, so it's turned into a make-out room.

The only light is from a red exit sign by the door, which gives the place kind of a risqué atmosphere. Not inappropriate, given what people are doing in here. Juliet seems to really like kissing, and that makes two of us.

I've noticed that her tongue keeps going to my eyeteeth, feeling and exploring them. Today she pulls back after about five minutes and kisses my ear. It sends a chill through me. She makes a
hmm
sound and bites my earlobe. I jerk like I just got an electric shock.

She laughs quietly in my ear. “I guess you like that,” she whispers, her breath hot and tickling. Okay, this is going to get me going. Since there's no cold shower nearby, I'd better put the fire out for now, or I'm going to end up with an awkward situation.

I break the kiss and pull a few inches away. “What's with those teeth?” I ask quietly.

“Which teeth?”

“Um, well you seem to go back to these teeth a lot.” I point with two fingers.

“I'm curious, I guess. Those are
the
teeth, right?”

“Yeah, those are
the
teeth,” I whisper.

“They feel the same as your other teeth.”

“Why wouldn't they?”

“I don't know. I just thought they'd be different. I told you, I haven't really done this before. Not with a vamp.”

“Not with a vamp, but with more humans than you can remember?”

“Yeah, with every guy in Millbrook.” She punches me in the arm.

Down this road lies trouble. Change course. “Anyway. Those teeth are basically the same as all the other ones now.”

“How often do you get them filed down?”

“Depends. Whenever they get longer and sharper than the other teeth. You think I need filing?”

“I can't remember. Guess I'll have to check again.” She presses her lips back to mine.

We don't have much time before next period. I can see fine, even in this low light, so I take her hand and lead her to the steel fire door that opens onto the stairway.

We step out into the light and almost bump right into a couple heading in.

Gunther Hoering and Alana Gibson.

“Well, well, well,” Gunther says. “What were you two lovebirds doing in there?”

“Excuse me,” I mumble, trying to move past him. I grip Juliet's hand a little tighter.

“Whoa, easy there, Romeo. Slow down. Wait.
Romeo
. And your name is Juliet, right? How about that?”

“That's funny,” Alana Gibson says.

“Yeah, hysterical,” I say, trying to move past Gunther again.

This time he puts his fingertips against my chest. “Hold on,” he says.

I don't push forward. I don't want to do this in front of Juliet.

“Let's look at this situation for a minute,” Gunther says. He slowly wags his finger at Juliet, and talks like he's solving a calculus problem. “Now, you're human, I know that. And he's…well, we know what he is.” He shakes his head, frowning with exaggerated disappointment. “Didn't you two pay attention in health class? Don't you know about the dangers of interspecies coupling?”

Juliet's cheeks are going red. I turn back to Gunther. “We have to go to class. Can you please get out of the way?”

He's standing one step below me and we're eye to eye. I can smell pizza and cherry Synheme on his breath when he talks. “Now, just relax. I'm doing a public service here. A little Sex Ed to make sure everyone stays safe.” His eyes locked on mine, he says, “I mean, don't you think it's only fair that Juliet here knows what risks she's facing?
Do
you know, Juliet? Do you realize what genetic filth your little friend has in him? It's in every cell in his body. It's in every hair. And every body fluid.”

I'm trying to keep my breathing steady, but my heart is pounding and I'm trying hard not to lose my temper.

But Gunther isn't done. “You don't want to be contaminated by him, do you? I mean even from just casual contact…you could get rabies. Or at the very least, fleas.”

My hand clenches into a fist. I'd love to punch those stubby fangs right into the back of his throat.

“Don't do it,” Juliet says. “He just wants an excuse to hurt you.”

“Oh, I'm not going to hurt him,” Gunther says. “I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'll let him hit me. And then he'll get expelled. And we'll be one step closer to a scum-free school.”

Juliet puts both of her hands on my arm and moves in close, her mouth next to my ear. “Don't. He's right, you'll get expelled.”

“I don't care.” My voice is low. Quiet, but shaky.

“Well, I do. I don't want to be at Carpathia without you. And who knows where you'll end up?”

I swallow. She's right.

“I'm not going to hit you,” I say. “I'll just stand here until you decide to get out of my way. You can spend the rest of the period talking to me instead of going up there with your girlfriend.” I fold my arms in front of me.

Gunther tilts his head a little to the left, confused. I don't think he's used to things not going the way he plans.

Alana tugs at his arm. “Let's just go. This is boring.”

Gunther looks frustrated, but he steps aside, pulling Alana by the hand. He makes sure to push his shoulder against mine as he passes. I ignore it.

The fire door shuts behind them with a clang.

Juliet smiles at me and squeezes my hand. I'm not sure if I won, but I know I didn't lose.

Juliet had to hurry to her locker, and I have to get to mine before Org Chem. At least the halls are mostly empty now, so I'll be able to get there faster. Then, from the cross hall, I hear a female voice call, “Hey, stop. I need to talk to you.”

Jessica. She
never
talks to me in school. She's going to want to know where I've been, but I can't get into the whole thing with her, not until we get everything worked out.

“You know, people can see you talking to me. We're in public,” I say.

“What's going on?” she asks.

“Not much. I'm going to my locker.” The kids in the hallway walk faster as it gets closer to second bell.

“Don't be funny.”

“Can't help it. But I really am going to my locker, so if you want to talk to me—again, right out in public, where anyone could see—then you'll have to walk with me.”

I start off down the hallway, and she follows. “Seriously,” she says. “What's the deal? Why are you staying at…
his
house?”

We get to my locker. I shove my books under her arm and start turning the dial.

“Stop being a jerk. Did you move out permanently?” She frowns at my books.

“That would be a dream come true for you, huh?”

“Mom is all in a bitchy mood, yelling at me and Paige…She's snapping at Troy, too. And it all started the second you left, but she won't tell us what it's about. So what's the deal?”

I start digging through the mess to find my notebook for Math. “I guess that's between you guys and her,” I say, wondering why Mom would be irritable. Guilt, maybe? Whatever.

Claire passes behind Jessica, does a double take, and widens her eyes like she saw a ghost. I shrug, like,
Don't ask me.
Claire smiles, shakes her head, and moves on.

“Something's going on and nobody's talking about it,” Jess says.

She
is
my sister, and she probably has a right to know. I could tell her. That is, if I want the girl with possibly the biggest mouth in school to know stuff that could put my life in jeopardy.

There goes second bell. Well, I'm late now, and I have five more minutes before another point is taken off my grade, so I might as well slow down. I take a long look at my watch. “Now it's almost a minute we've been talking. I'm thinking they're going to banish you from civilization.”

She turns red. “Danny, I'm serious.”

“You're serious? I thought you were Jessica. When did you change your name?”

Now I can see the muscles in her jaw clench. “I'm asking you to please tell me what's going on.”

“
Please?
Wow. Okay. Basically, my werewulf genes are coming out, so I'm going to Change any time now, maybe next month, which means I'll have to register or something, maybe go to a compound every month for the rest of my life, and our mother is disgusted and embarrassed, and that's why I'm living with Dad for now.”

“You know, just once, it would be nice to get a straight answer from you.” She looks at my books in her arms with an expression like,
Why am I still holding these?
and dumps them on the floor. Of course my binder pops open and papers spin out all over the hallway. She uses her six-hundred-dollar shoes to push a few of them even farther out of my reach. Now,
there's
the Jessica I know and don't especially love.

“So thanks for leaving me and Paige to deal with her all alone. Have a good time hiding at Dad's.”

“Listen. I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can.”

“Whatever. I hope you're happy.”

She walks away. I start pulling the papers together, realizing I'm going to miss the next five minute interval and lose another point. Damn.

I'm packed in with all the other kids pushing to get out the front doors of the school. The cool night air feels good. Claire is waiting, leaning against the principal's car.

“Was I hallucinating, or did I see Her Highness Lady Jessica condescending to talk to you in public today?” she asks.

“I'm as shocked as you are.”

“Did you tell her what's going on?”

I laugh. “I might as well put it on the evening news.”

“Why are we still standing here? Let's go.”

“I'm not walking to my house today,” I tell her. “I'm still at my dad's.”

“You're no fun.”

“You can come over if you want,” I say. “But it's a farther walk for you to get home. And we need to be quiet; he's on a day schedule for work, and he needs to sleep a few more hours.”

“And then you have the place to yourself?” she asked.

“I guess.”

Claire thinks for a minute. “I'll come for a little while. I can't stay out too early.”

We walk a few blocks to the bus stop, then sit on a bench and wait.