03 Long Night Moon - Seasons of the Moon (13 page)

Rylie had to laugh. Tate always knew exactly what would piss off his parents.

“This is going to end up in the newspaper. I bet you anything,” she said. “In fact, I’d be surprised if Tate doesn’t submit it himself.”

“Tate’s gay?”

“I’m way more worried that he’s dating
Levi
. Aren’t you?”

“But… they’re both guys.”

She stared at him, trying to decide if he was serious or not. Maybe he was. Rylie was from a big city, where plenty of kids had been openly gay, or had been raised in families with same-sex parents. But Seth had been raised isolated from the rest of the world. The only people he knew were the ones he hunted.

“You know Gwyn likes other women, right?” Rylie asked.

“
What
?”

“Sure. When I was little, she lived with a woman named Jane,” she said. Seth looked so shocked that she almost felt bad for him. She laughed and pushed him gently. “Whatever, Mr. I Kill Werewolves for Fun. Glass houses and stones and stuff.”

His mouth opened and shut soundlessly. “But—”

Tate’s attention storm blew past them. He stopped long enough to give Rylie a big hug—which nearly gagged her with the smell of pot smoke—and then dragged his date onto the dance floor. Levi seemed almost as stunned as everyone else. That was life in the Tate Zone.

When he was gone again, Seth looked nauseated. Rylie decided to ignore him.

She tugged on his hand. “Dance with me.”

The floor was packed. Kids in formal dresses bounced around to club music, which would have been funny to see if it hadn’t been so dark. It made everything intimate, even though the room was full.

Closer to the speakers, the music blasted through her bones and made her blood shake. There was a time Rylie loved going to concerts. Having a DJ put on the music wasn’t the same thing as a live band, but it was almost as good.

The bass thump-thumped in her chest and drowned everything else out—even her worries, for a few minutes.

Neither Seth nor Rylie were good dancers. He wasn’t coordinated, and she didn’t have a sense of rhythm. But they were bad dancers together. When Seth twirled her for the third time, she had to start laughing. She almost forgot to be upset about everything.

Until she spotted Scott Whyte standing among the chaperones in the back.

She tripped on her own dress. Seth caught her, and she stiffened at his touch.

The wolf came roaring to the surface.

The smells
.

Everything she had been trying to ignore crashed down on her. The smells, the sounds, the sensation of bodies crowded around her. It was suddenly all too much. Her skin flushed with a wave of heat.

Her fingernails dug into Seth’s arms. “What’s wrong?” he shouted. She could barely hear him over the music.

She shook her head. How could she tell him that the werewolf was rising early? There was too much sensory input. Too many smells.

He spotted Bekah and recognition dawned.

“Let’s take a break,” Seth said.

The back hallway was empty aside from a couple looking for a sneaky place to make out. Rylie ducked into an alcove and braced her back against the wall, pressing her hands against her forehead.

Hungry
.

“Shut up. You’re
always
hungry,” she whispered to the wolf.

Seth squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

When he came back, he had a paper plate stacked with thin-sliced sausage and ham. He held it for Rylie while she scarfed it down. Satiating one hunger made it easier to control the wolf, but only a little.

“That witch is here,” she said between bites.

“I don’t think they want to hurt you.”

She shook her head. No, they weren’t there to hurt her. They wanted to take her away. But why now? Why couldn’t they let her have a night to herself? “I need to sit down.”

They found an unoccupied bench and took it. The music was distant and muffled from the end of the hall. Cold air leeched through the doors. Rylie’s skin was burning, so she barely felt it.

The moon was outside. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there. She always knew where the moon was located, like a fragment of her soul suspended in space. Being close to the exit didn’t help. Her fingernails itched.

She spread her fingers in front of her and saw the first dots of blood appear around the edges.

“Are you going to change? Should we—?”

“I’m fine. Give me a second.”

She ducked into the bathroom. Girls she didn’t recognize were fixing their makeup in the mirror and leaning forward to adjust their cleavage. There was a line waiting for a stall, but Rylie took the first open toilet.

“Hey!” someone protested.

Without bothering to apologize, she locked the door and yanked a fistful of toilet paper off the roll. She pressed it to her fingers.

I’m not going to change. I’m human. I’m not going to change
.

She closed her eyes, took deep breaths, and focused on relaxing her muscles one at a time.

Slowly, her nerves settled. Her hands stopped shaking. Her skin cooled. She pushed back the supernaturally strong scents of the bathroom until she could pretend she had a normal sense of smell. And then she washed her hands—fingernails intact—and returned to Seth.

He smiled that knee-weakening smile when he saw her.

“You okay?” he asked. “You want to dance?”

She nodded.

They avoided the corner where Scott Whyte had been lurking on their way back in. Seth pulled her onto the dance floor. Rylie shut her eyes and moved to the beat without thinking about it.

His arms enveloped her. They moved together, from right foot to left foot and back again, without paying attention to the world around them. Nothing else mattered. It was just them—two normal humans having fun.

That was all.

The night was a blur of dancing and food. Bekah and Scott stayed out of the way. Tate drew a crowd with his inappropriate dancing and loud singing, which made Rylie laugh and clap from the sidelines. She ate a lot of hors d’oeuvres, danced with Seth for what felt like hours, and tried to forget she would be changing soon.

But the wolf wouldn’t let her forget.

The moon crept in on her. Eventually, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. It was nine o’clock. “We should leave,” she said.

Seth grinned. “One more dance.”

They took the dance floor, and Rylie leaned against him with her eyes closed. They slow-danced to fast music. When she opened her eyes, Seth was staring straight down at her.

Rylie pushed herself onto her toes to kiss him. There was nothing in the world but them, and their bodies, and the absence of space between them. His hands on her back were the only thing holding her inside her skin. Her
human
skin.

When she pulled back, his eyes glowed as they raked down her body. She wasn’t the only hungry one.

But then something caught his attention, and Seth’s eyes focused over her head. His face fell. “Oh no. Oh, this is bad, this is really bad—”

Rylie didn’t need to follow his gaze to the door to smell who had just entered. His scent gusted toward her as he sauntered into the room.

Abel.

She had to admit he looked good in a button-up shirt and slacks, scarred face and all. His muscular arms and chest were accentuated by the sharp lines of the shirt. He looked like Seth, if he was run through a meat grinder and came out meaner on the other side.

The corner of Abel’s mouth lifted in a smirk when he saw them, but he didn’t approach. He ambled toward the snack table and started picking out pieces of salami.

There were enough students from the different schools that nobody would notice if someone showed up uninvited, but Abel didn’t look like a student. He was young, but not
that
young—and the scars were too distinctive.

“What should we do?” Rylie asked.

Tension made hard lines stand out in Seth’s throat. “I should talk to him. He can’t be here for anything good.”

“He’ll get kicked out, right?” she whispered.

He responded by pulling Rylie deeper onto the dance floor, where other bodies buffeted against theirs and hid them from the periphery of the room. Her nerves were ringing.

The hard dance beat died, and the DJ put on a slow song. Students started moving off the floor. They were exposed.

“Let’s just go,” she said.

But it was too late. Abel strode up to them, effortlessly parting the crowd, and focused on Rylie like Seth wasn’t even there. “Dance with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Revulsion shocked through Rylie. Seth stepped forward. “What the heck, man? No way.”

“Let her answer for herself.”

Her first impulse involved a lot of swear words, but there was something imploring in his dark eyes. Her wolf was happy to see him, even if the rest of her wasn’t so enthusiastic.

“Fine,” she said.

Seth’s mouth fell open. “Rylie, you don’t have to—”

“I know.”

“Great. Make yourself disappear, kid,” Abel said, giving his brother a light shove. He took Rylie’s hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. The students gave them plenty of space. Given Abel’s size, they had no other choice.

Seth took a seat in the corner, looking furious.

She settled her free hand lightly on his upper arm and met his eyes defiantly. “What are you trying to do?” she asked.

“Maybe I want to have fun.”

“I can’t imagine you crashing a high school dance for fun.”

Abel turned suddenly serious. “All right. Seth asked me why I stayed when I should have left with our mom. And I thought—well, Gwyn drew up paperwork to give me the ranch. It’s in her will. If she dies, the ranch gets turned over to me and Seth. Mostly me.”

Rylie had been prepared for a lot of things to come out of his mouth, but that wasn’t one of them. She stopped moving. “What?” The ache that had grown lighter during the dance came crashing back on her like a huge fist between her ribs. She could barely breathe. “Why would she do that? She’s not going to die, is she?”

“She’s ready for it.”

Rylie covered her mouth with a hand. “Oh my God.”

There was sadness on Abel’s face, actual sadness. “She’s been nice to me. Nobody’s ever been that nice to me. She treats me like a person—not some dumb piece of trash.” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard. “You and me might be family someday, but Gwyn’s already better than my real family, except my dork of a brother. So I guess you and me are pack.” Abel shook his head and quickly changed it to, “Family. Not pack.”

But he was right. The first word resonated with her much more than the second.

“You’re pack,” Rylie said, testing the words on her tongue.

They weren’t pretending to dance at all anymore. Abel’s hands squeezed tight on her waist. It hurt enough to stir the wolf again.

Stiffly, he nodded.

She couldn’t see Seth anymore. The crowd was too thick and the room was dark, isolating them from the rest of the world. One of the lights by the DJ booth spun, bathing them in light for a short second. His eyes flashed with gold.

“When did that happen?’ she asked.

“When you bit me,” he said. “After that… I started changing again. Like the first time I was attacked, but different.”

“Are you becoming a werewolf?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” Pain flashed across his face. “
I can’t remember
.”

Rylie knew his pain, because she felt it too. She had never remembered what happened on the full and new moons, but she had begun forgetting all her other nights, too. It scared her in a way nothing else had scared her before.

“It will be okay. We’re pack,” she said forcefully.

Impulsively, she reached up and touched his scarred cheek. The skin was softer than it looked. Rylie traced a line from his temple to his jaw. It looked like the skin had been ripped off his head and grown back the wrong way.

A whole chunk in the shell of his ear was missing. A pink gouge marked his jaw.

His eyes shut tight.

“We’re pack,” Rylie said again, softer this time. “I’ll take care of you.” She dropped her hand. “Thanks. You know, for telling me about Gwyn. Is that why you came here?”

“No.” A hint of his old, dangerous smile returned. “I came here to kill those wolf kids.”

She stiffened. “
What
?”

“Quiet,” he said when people turned to look at them. The song was almost over and they were out of time. Abel stepped in close. He was holding that big knife again even though she hadn’t seen him draw it. He hid it between their bodies. “You know it’s got to be done.”

“But—I don’t think—”

The smell of silver was too distracting. She choked on sudden rage. He went on before she could speak. “You’re changing tonight. Maybe I am, too. Who cares? Let’s do it. We’ll end it. Both of them at the same time.”

“With all these people here?” she growled.

Scott Whyte appeared out of the crowd and tapped Abel on the shoulder. “I don’t think you have an invitation.”

Abel pressed himself against Rylie, wrapping his arm around her back in an iron grip. She felt the hard press of the knife against her stomach as he tried to hide it.