Silver Moon (10 page)

“Principal Garrison…he…” I don’t know how to finish. Is he a werewolf too?

“He’s good friends with Randy and me, and he got you out of loads of trouble that you might otherwise be in if he was anybody else.”

“So, others know what I am?”

“They acquire the sense of heightened smell once they transform on their eighteenth birthday. I imagine that word has spread quickly among the werewolf community about your arrival.”

“Ben knows,” I whisper.

“Hmm?”

“If all of these people know, why hasn’t anyone said anything?”

“Maybe, in so many words, they have and you weren’t listening.”

I ignore her. “My having
Lowell
blood shouldn’t be enough reason for them to hate me. There’s something I’m missing, isn’t there?”

Beth watches me intently for a moment before saying, “You will receive powers on your eighteenth birthday. They are already too powerful as it is, but they want yours.”

“Powers?” I snort. “Since when do werewolves have powers?”

“We suspect these…abilities pre-date our time. No one knows for sure who the first werewolf was or how it was handed down, but we’ve evolved since then. Now we each gain a unique ability on our eighteenth birthday.”

I open my mouth to speak, but Beth talks over me.

“However, the only way to keep your powers is to wear a trinket to which the power can be bestowed.”

“A trinket?”

Beth nods toward my chest. I look down, picking up the locket and twisting it around to face me.

“We each have something. I have a ring. Randy has a watch. You have the necklace. If you lose it, your power can be contained in another trinket. The only possible way for them to take it is to use dark magic, something I’m not even remotely familiar with.”

“They can take my power?”

“With you being a young werewolf, it’ll be easier for them to steal your power. You won’t be guarded in your new form, and you definitely won’t be used to using your ability.”

“What’ll happen if they get it?”

“If they do get their hands on it somehow, they can extract the power and use it for their benefit. In essence, you won’t have your power any longer, and we’d have to take extra measures to retrieve it.”

Tears pool in my eyes. I keep my head down, pretending to stare at my locket. All this time I thought it was just a stupid necklace. I didn’t know it held my power. I didn’t know my parents were looking out for me.

“How does it work?” I choke out.

“The trinket has to have a spell cast upon it for it to hold the power correctly. If you were to lose your necklace once your power is active, then you would lose the power. As long as that locket stays around your neck, you’ll be fine,” she says.

I nod and twist it between my fingers again. “What ability will I have?”

“We don’t know. Even you may not understand it or release it for awhile. You might be out and about two months after your birthday and then it happens.” Beth shrugs. “We can’t tell you for sure.”

“What powers do you two have?” I finally redirect my gaze from the locket to them.

“Randy has the gift of creating things.”

“Like…”

“Anything,” Randy says, “from food to furniture.”

“Can you show me?”

Randy nods. He extends his hand, palm up, and a green apple appears out of thin air. He tosses it to me. I take a bite, crunching into the surface. It’s real as the ones sitting in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Whoa. That’s awesome.” I look at Beth. “What about you?”

“I have the ability of persuasion.”

“Nice. I hope I get something really cool,” I mumble.

“You will, dear. And I wish you’d find out quickly what your gift is.”

I bow my head, staring at the locket again. “Yeah, me too.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to visit a friend of mine. She can help you understand things, put them into perspective, if you want,” says Beth. Deep crevices form on her forehead, as she waits for my response.

“Yeah, that uh…that sounds cool.” I nod my head, trying to convince her and myself.

Chapter Ten

I
don’t sleep at all that night, wondering what it’ll be like when I transform. Will I be some hideous monster that ravages the town, like in black and white movies, or will I know what I’m doing and be in control of my body?

An aroma billows upstairs and through my door—smooth and seductive. It lures me out of my bedroom. I practically lean against the wall on the way downstairs; I’m a zombie in the mornings.

“I made coffee,” Beth says when I enter the kitchen. “I didn’t know if you’d drink any or not, but I figured you had a long night.”

“No, coffee’s cool. I like coffee.” My head moves up and down, convincing her it’s okay, which is a total lie. I grab a mug out of the cabinet and pour the scalding hot liquid from the pot. One sip later and I spew coffee into the sink. “Gross! How can people drink it this way?” I wipe the residue from my chin.

Beth laughs. “You’ve never had coffee before, have you?”

I wince. “No, not really. I thought it’d sound more grown-up if I said I had.”

“Cream and sugar are by the pot,” Beth says, pointing to the powdered add-ons in glass canisters.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, reaching for both.

“I’m closing up the bookstore and we’re going to visit
Magena
—the one I told you about last night.”

My face scrunches. “What kind of name is that?”

Beth’s shoulders drop like she’s really hurt by my comment. “She’s a really good friend, Candra. You’ll like her, I’m sure.”

“I was teasing,” I say. “Why are we going to see her?”

“She knows a lot more than I do about our ancestors. I thought you might have a few more questions in you about the powers and where they come from,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee.

I pretend I’m in deep thought. “Maybe.”

She grins. “That’s what I thought. I told her we’d be there around noon, for lunch.”

I nod, dumping the pathetic excuse for a cup of coffee down the drain. I make it to the doorway when Beth stops me. One minute she’s behind me, sitting at the table, the next she appears before me.

“How’d you—”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” she says, ignoring how frightened I’ve become. “I know everything must be hard for you to grasp right now.”

“Actually, it clears a few things up for me,” I say, hesitating with my words, “if that makes any sense.”

Beth nods and rubs my arms. “I really hope you like it here. We don’t want to scare you off.”

“Oh, you won’t scare me off. I’ve been through some tough shit, so even if you do tell me to pack my bags and go home, it won’t hurt my feelings.” The corner of my mouth twitches.

Beth stares at me, like she’s considering what to say. She takes my hands in hers. “Well, we’re not going to send you home just yet. I think when you turn eighteen you should be the one to decide where you go and what life you choose to live.”

I purse my lips. “Thanks,” I murmur.
 

She steps aside and lets me pass.

Upstairs, I prepare to wash the night sweats from my body. Steam floats up my nostrils, filling up my lungs with moisture. My body is overloaded from mental exhaustion. I’ve replayed every word of the conversation between Randy, Beth and me. I’m still waiting for one of them to say it’s a really, really early April Fool’s joke.

Deep down, I know it’s not.

My wet hair clings to my upper back. I squeeze the excess water out. Grabbing a towel, I pat myself dry, and slip into a clean shirt and jeans. Lunch is a couple of hours away and I’m not sure what to do until then. Beth will be getting ready, and she’ll quite possibly consume the full two hours to do so. I’ve seen her in the mornings getting ready for work. She works at a bookstore for Pete’s sake, yet she gets all dolled up like she’s going to a four-star restaurant.

I nosedive onto my bed, squealing when I bounce. For the longest time, I stare at my window, wondering if the eyes are out there.

I know what you are now,
I think. They frightened me at first, but not so much anymore. After today, I’ll learn about my past, present and, hopefully, future. The strange part about all of it is that I don’t feel different. I feel like the same me, not some overgrown beast. For now. Give me a few more months, and I might have a different opinion about the situation.

One minute I’m lying in bed, the next—I find myself at the window, not really sure how I got there. The eyes hover directly in front of me, beckoning me to pursue them. It’s only the eyes, though—
no body
is connected.

“I’ll be there in a second,” I say, but I see every action performed from a distance, like I’m dead and having an out-of-body experience. My eyes are glazed over. My words are robotic, lifeless.

Where am I going?

My physical body turns and runs out the door.

My spirit form, however, looks toward the window. The eyes still float, but they turn and watch me. They can
see
me. Abruptly, a body grows around the eyes, and leaps through the window. Glass shatters into a million tiny pieces across the floor.

“You have to leave,” says the werewolf. His eyes drop, like he’s sad. Though I can’t place it, the voice sounds familiar. I’ve heard it somewhere…and recently.

I open my mouth to speak, but it’s as if I’ve caught laryngitis. Every word wheezes from my throat, hoarse and raspy. I try to pronounce syllables, but they won’t form.

The werewolf bounds back through the broken window, where remains of glass protrude at impossible angles. I dart to see where he went, but he’s already gone. There’s only the other version of me, standing outside and walking around, like I’m in a fog.

I call down to my body, wandering aimlessly in the open field beside Randy and Beth’s. She doesn’t speak. She looks up at me and giggles.

What’s so funny?

She points at me. I shake my head, confused. Her eyebrows lift and she grins. She points again, nodding once.

In my peripheral vision, something stirs. I carefully turn around and see Cameron standing behind me. His hands are caked in blood; it trickles from his fingertips onto the carpet.
Drip.
He takes baby steps toward me.
Drip.
A scream hitches in my throat.

“I’ve killed them,” he says, with a twist of his mouth.

I shake my head, unable to respond.
Who?
I want to know.

He doesn’t answer. One of his hands cracks. Bones break and grow, reforming into longer fingers. His nails extend, creating claws.

I panic and turn around, prepared to fall to my death. But the window is intact, like none of this ever happened. Cameron springs at me. His deformed hand rises in the air and comes down at an inhuman speed—straight for my throat.

I bolt up in bed. Perspiration beads up on my forehead. Tiny hairs on my arm prickle. I glance around my room. Of course it’s the way I left it. These stupid dreams have me constantly wondering what’s real and what’s imaginary.

Swinging my legs around, I test how they perform on the floor. I’m a little shaky and don’t know if they’ll hold me up. But they do.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen, where I pour myself a glass of water. My throat is parched.

Beth prances by the doorway. She halts and backs up. “Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” I reply, chugging more water.

“Okay,” she says, totally unconvinced. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

I shoot her a confused look, and then glance at the clock on the stove. It’s almost 11:30.

“Sorry. I lost track of time,” I tell her.

“Oh, honey, were you asleep? Your hair is messed up,” says Beth, picking at a few pieces of hair that stick out in different directions. My hair’s frizzy from bed-head, like I stuck my finger in a light socket and electrocuted myself.