03 Long Night Moon - Seasons of the Moon (20 page)

He couldn’t keep up with her. She bounded around him, ducked under his belly, and shoved him off his feet.

Rylie’s teeth closed on his spine mid-back. He yelped.

Seth finally pulled out of the snow and reached the bottom of the valley.

“Rylie!” he shouted.

She froze, focusing reflective yellow eyes on him. The entire right side of her face twitched. Her ear flopped. Her shoulders rolled and seized.

Did she recognize him? Or had the silver destroyed what little of her mind remained?

He put the rifle on his back and walked toward her slowly, holding his hands out palm-first. No sudden movements. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s me.”

Rylie shivered. He stretched his fingers for her nose.

Behind her, Levi moved.

He lunged and shoved her into a tree with his massive head, breaking the moment of calm. She yelped.

“Wait!”

But he had lost her attention, and he couldn’t get it back. Levi bit at the thick ruff of fur around her neck, and Rylie swung a huge paw tipped with diamond-sharp claws. It sank into his side. His scream was almost human.

Levi collapsed. Seth glimpsed something glistening on his belly.

She had gutted him.

Bekah howled and leaped for her brother, leaving Gwyn unguarded. She lay flat on the snow, too weak to move.

Rylie whirled. Seth tried to get in the way.

The wolf was too fast.

A gunshot whip-cracked through the air.

Blood splattered on Rylie’s flank, and she stumbled before reaching her aunt.

“No!” Seth roared, whirling to see who had shot. A silhouette stood on the ridge with a gun braced in both hands.

Abel.

Rylie struggled to stand, but he fired again and hit her in the shoulder. The silver bullets were far more effective than Levi’s bites. She slid onto her side again with a cry that broke Seth’s heart.

He scrambled toward her, but Bekah darted out of the trees and blocked his path with her body. Abel jumped down, much more gracefully than Seth had, and caught his arm.

“Get off of me!”

“You can’t go near her,” Abel said, voice gruff. “She could bite you.”

Fear and fury gripped Seth. He elbowed his brother in the gut and swung a hard uppercut. The crack of fist meeting jaw wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been—Abel only grunted and didn’t let go. His hand was like an iron shackle.

He glimpsed Rylie beyond Bekah. She writhed and whined with the agony of silver burn.

“You shot her!” he spat, shoving Abel again.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you shot her first.” He stepped back and stuck his gun in his belt. “The Riese kids will take care of her. We’ve got bigger worries for now.”

A few feet away, Gwyn moaned. Seth had completely forgotten about her.

Abel lifted her from the snow very gently. She didn’t react to his touch. She was bleeding, too, but it looked like it was from a few cuts and scrapes rather than a bite. It wasn’t as worrying as the blue tinge to her skin.

Another cry made him turn. Bekah had Rylie pinned down.

“Forget her,” Abel said. “You can’t do anything, and we have to get Gwyn to the hospital five minutes ago.”

Seth hesitated as he watched Rylie. Her skin rippled and her teeth snapped at the air.

He couldn’t get close without risking a bite.

“Hurry up! Help me!”

Seth followed his brother, leaving Rylie to the mercies of the wolves.

Seth stayed at the hospital with Gwyneth for three long, horrible days.

It seemed like the least he could do when he couldn’t be with Rylie. He didn’t know where she was or if she had become human again, and nobody was talking to him—not the Rieses, who seemed to have gone missing, or even Abel, who only showed up every few hours to check on Gwyn’s status.

Of course, he didn’t have anywhere else to go anyway. They had already given up their apartment.

Gwyn asked to see Seth on the afternoon of the third day.

She looked like she had been beaten up, which wasn’t far from the truth. She gestured for him to sit in the chair beside her. “They tell me that Rylie hasn’t been around.”

Seth glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was listening. He shut the door into the hallway before sitting down again. “People are taking care of her. It’s okay.”

“So it’s true,” Gwyn said dully. “It’s all true.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, even though he knew it was no comfort after everything she had been through.

“I don’t want to be bitten.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Rylie offered to…” Gwyn’s thin hands clenched on her bed sheet. “She thought a bite might cure me. If that’s what it’s like, I don’t want any of it.”

The fact that Rylie had been thinking of making another werewolf should have worried Seth, but nothing shocked him anymore. Not after everything that had happened over the last couple of weeks.

“It’s not usually like that,” he said.

But was that really true? Wasn’t that the kind of behavior he expected from most werewolves?

Gwyn broke him from his thoughts. “She’s not coming back. Is she?”

“I don’t know,” Seth said. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I just don’t know.”

He spent one more night stretched out between chairs in the waiting room, dozing lightly with nightmares chasing around his skull. When he saw Abel go into Gwyn’s room, he wasn’t sure if it was another strange dream or reality.

Around two in the morning, someone cleared her throat. Seth looked up to see Bekah with Abel loomed behind her. So he hadn’t been dreaming.

He stood. “Is Rylie—?”

“She’s okay,” Bekah said in a low voice. “We got out most of the bullets, and she finally woke up this morning. Human.”

“Where is she? Can I see her?”

Bekah shifted, glancing at her cell phone and stuffing it back in her pocket. “Look… Seth. I don’t think that’s going to happen. Rylie’s refusing to see anyone.” She grimaced. “Especially you.”

Seth sat back down hard. “But—”

“She’s agreed to go to California with us,” she went on. “We’ll take good care of her. I promise. Maybe in a few months…”

“A few
months
?”

Abel stared hard at the window, jaw clenched so tight that thick cords stood out on his neck. “I’m going, too.”

“Can I come?” Seth asked, but he could tell the answer by Bekah’s expression before the words even left his mouth. “Then what am I supposed to do? If my brother is going, and my girlfriend is going…”

She shrugged helplessly. “You’re a kopis. The other werewolves and witches wouldn’t feel safe with you there.”

“And someone’s got to look after Gwyn,” Abel said. He still wouldn’t look at Seth. “I already talked to her. She wants you to stick around, finish school, and help her sell the ranch. She’ll need someone with her now that Rylie is…” He trailed off, cleared his throat, and fell back into silence.

“She wanted me to give this to you.” Bekah gave him a folded piece of paper and a weak smile. “Guess this is it. Goodbye, Seth.”

She ghosted out of the waiting room, her long white jacket trailing behind her. Seth’s fist clenched on the note.

“Abel—”

“It’s either this or letting Mom kill me,” he said. “I messed up. It’s too late to fix me now. But… maybe those witches can help with the control thing.”

Seth grabbed his shoulder. “We can do it together. We don’t need anyone else.”

“Don’t you get it, man? Rylie killed people. I killed people. This is our last chance to make it better.” Abel finally met his eyes. His dark irises were veined with gold. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after Rylie.”

There was nothing else to be said, after that. They weren’t much for hugs or long goodbyes. His brother punched him in the shoulder, and Seth shoved him back.

“See you around,” Abel said.

“Yeah. See you.”

Seth waited until he was alone to unfold the note Rylie left him. It looked like it had been torn out of a journal. The ink was smudged with a teardrop. Only one line had been written in the middle of the page:

I’m so sorry. I love you. -Rylie

The funeral for Tate’s mother was held on a bright, windy day. Rylie watched them from the hill beyond the cemetery gate, arms hugged around her body against the cold. As the county commissioner, a lot of people had shown up to grieve. They were black spots against the glaring white snow.

Even from a distance, Rylie’s sharp eyesight could pick out Tate. His face was crumpled, his cheeks were ruddy, and he had traded out his usual jeans for the kind of suit his mother begged him to wear. He called it “the livery of The Man.”

He was crying so hard that he was sweating despite the cold, and his hair stuck to his forehead. Tate’s dad had an arm around his shoulders to comfort him, but he wasn’t in much of a better state.

Why should he be? Their family was ruined.

Rylie had never seen Tate cry before. She knew how that grief felt. It hadn’t been long since she stood beside her dad’s grave as he was buried.

But this time, she was responsible for the funeral.

When she woke up, Scott told her that she had killed people. She couldn’t remember anything, but she had to believe them when she woke up after being trapped as a wolf for three days straight. She didn’t know what to think or feel or say anymore. It felt like her heart had turned to ice.

Her hands twisted on a silver pendant. It stung her skin even though it was plated with rhodium to prevent serious burns. Scott Whyte said she had to wear it everywhere. He hadn’t been able to tell her if it would give her control.

The honk of a horn echoed over the hills. She turned her gaze to the road beyond the trees and saw a white van idling on the shoulder.

Her time was up.

Rylie took a long last look at Tate, trying to memorize his face. She would never see him again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wishing it would carry over the wind and find his ears. He stepped forward to drop flowers on his mother’s casket. Motors whirred and lowered her into the ground.

That wasn’t how she wanted to remember him, but maybe it was what she deserved.

She limped to the van. Rylie had woken up with two fresh bullet wounds—one in her hip and one in her shoulder. Scott and Bekah had pulled out all the silver they found, but it still burned when she moved. They said they had a doctor that could fix it when they reached California. For now, she winced with every step.

Levi slouched next to the open door of the van. His eyes were red, too, and he glared at her when she drew near. Rylie stared at her toes, trying to decide what to say.

“I don’t know if…” she began.

Levi interrupted her. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Her mouth snapped shut and her cheeks burned.

Rylie climbed inside. The smell of other wolves made her tense, but her hand gripped the pentacle tight and anchored her enough to stay human. Scott and Bekah were chatting in the front seat. They sounded happy. Normal.

Levi climbed in and shut the door. He wouldn’t look at her. Rylie stared out the tinted window at the darkened world, watching the cemetery gates recede.

“We have one stop before leaving town,” Scott announced.

Nobody spoke as they drove to Gwyn’s ranch. She slid low in her seat, clutching the pentacle so hard that the edge dug into her hands.

“I don’t want to be here.”

“We’re not going inside. It will only take a second.”

Scott parked at the end of the driveway, and Rylie couldn’t resist. She peeked over the side of the door to drink in one last look at the ranch house, the barn, and the pastures.

Home. Her heart ached for it.

She wanted to go up that hill, drop her muddy boots by the back door, and immerse herself in the warmth of her aunt’s kitchen. She wanted to snuggle under a blanket with Gwyn to keep warm. She even wanted to help her muck out stalls.

But that was over. She ruined it.

Figures emerged from the front door, and she felt a small jolt to see Gwyn, Seth, and Abel. Her aunt looked frail. She held Seth’s arm for balance.

“Do you want to say goodbye?” Bekah asked, twisting around in her seat. Her face was sad and sympathetic. It made Rylie feel sick.

She couldn’t say goodbye. If she spoke to Seth, she would have to see his disappointment. She couldn’t handle that.

Rylie hadn’t even left him a note.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? We can wait a few minutes.”

“No,” she said.

They didn’t try to push. Rylie sunk into her seat again and hugged her knees to her chest.

Her heart of ice couldn’t stand to think about Seth. He would thaw her, and she would have to feel the pain. All of it. The guilt of having killed, the knowledge she had ruined her life, and the realization she might never see Seth again.

She was so immersed in her miserable thoughts that she didn’t notice Abel’s approach until he opened the door. His backpack was slung over one shoulder.

Their eyes met. Everything she felt was mirrored in his expression—remorse, anger, fear, sadness.

“Make room back there,” Scott said.

Levi moved over, shoving his bags into the cargo space so Abel could get in.