Blood Moon (36 page)

Breathing heavily now, my heart hammering in
my chest, I took a wobbly step back toward the door. The room
appeared to be closing in around me, and Nick’s voice was
unrelenting.
“He’s human. You’re not. It’s dangerous for you to
be with him.”
The bruises on David’s wrists flashed in the
darkness of my mind, and I shuddered before panic gripped me firmly
in its grasp, suffocating me further.

“I love you,” David continued, keeping in
step with me as I continued on with my nervous breakdown. “I want a
life with you.”

I was scared. Scared because of everything
Nick told me about how I might never make it work with David.
Scared because I feared that David and I would never agree on what
we each expected out of our relationship. And, mostly, scared
because of what I’d become.

My back hit the solid wood door, the knob
pressing into the small of my back, and I reached behind me and
turned it. “I… David, I…”

“Brooke, just hear me out.”

“I can’t do this right now,” I mumbled,
tears stinging my eyes and threatening to spill over onto my
cheeks. I loved him, but I couldn’t forget Nick’s warnings; he’d
gotten into my head and muddled everything up. I thought I could do
this—have a life with David—but what if I couldn’t? What if
everything Nick said was true? “I’m sorry.”

And, with that, I pulled open the door and
walked briskly down the sidewalk, the cool air whipping across my
face as I picked up my pace. David called after me, but I kept
going, needing time to sort through the crap in my head. It upset
me that I started to question my feelings when I was so ready to
make things work with David, despite Nick’s warnings. I loved him
more than I ever thought I would be capable of again, and now I was
pushing him away. Why? All because I let my stupid ex get into my
head.

The panic I felt back at the house continued
to mount, making me feel anxious and uneasy. And what did I do
lately when that happened? I ran. I ran with everything I had. I
ran until my thighs ached and my lungs burned. I ran until the cold
air hitting my eyes formed tears that obscured my vision. I lost
all sense of direction as I turned corner after corner, letting my
instincts take me wherever I was headed, and I didn’t question
it.

When I finally stopped running, I took a
deep breath, letting the cold fall air fill my lungs. It was
invigorating as it flowed through my body, so I took another as I
turned around and absorbed my surroundings. It surprised me when I
realized I was on Nick’s front step, and then that surprise turned
to irritation, because the last person I needed to see right now
was the one who started this whole mess in the first place.

Grunting in frustration, I dropped onto the
front step, refusing to knock on the front door, but not ready to
head back home yet, and I pushed my face into my arms as they
rested on my knees. I tried to block out everything—the cars that
drove by, the couple fighting three doors down over who drank the
last of the milk and would run to the store, the rustle of the
trees and bushes moving in the wind—and I tried to focus on David
and how I was going to fix this. It worried me that I might not be
able to. Maybe he would decide he’d finally had enough of my
bullshit.

The sound of an engine pulled my attention,
bringing me out of my little pity-party, and I raised my head to
find Nick pulling into the driveway on a red Harley. Something
about seeing him on that bike made my libido spike, but I pushed it
down and remembered how upset I was with him.

Nick seemed confused to see me on his front
step as he cut the engine and dismounted his bike, but he also
looked somewhat pleased. “Brooke.” His expression turned grim upon
seeing the pain and confusion in my eyes as he stepped closer, and
he sighed, pushing open his door and coaxing me to my feet and
inside. The second the door closed, he turned to me and offered me
a sad smile. “What happened?”

What happened? What
didn’t
happen?

The events of the past week ran through my
head on loop: David’s bruises, how I pulled away in hopes of trying
to control my urges before I did any more damage, dinner where my
mom spilled the beans about the true extent of my relationship with
Nick, Nick showing up at their place, David overhearing my
conversation with my mom—a conversation I tried to tell myself I
would have had with him eventually—and finally how I left him.

I…left…
him
.

Not forever,
I tried to tell myself,
but it did no good. I had done to David what Nick did to me. I
pulled away without warning or an explanation or even really
understanding what was happening or why I was doing it, and I
walked away when things started to get heavy.

I. Am. An.
Asshole
.

Even though I was angry with myself more
than anything, I wheeled around on Nick, thrusting an extended
finger in his face. “This is all
your
fault.”

In all the years I’d known him, Nick had
never looked this terrified, and I was suddenly conflicted. On one
hand, I was still really upset that I let him get into my head like
this and ruin my chance to be truly happy, but on the other, I
didn’t relish hurting him.

Damn these warring emotions.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His
tone was surprisingly firm, contradicting the fear in his eyes only
a second ago. “I thought everything was fine?”

“It was!” I shouted unexpectedly. “And then
I let
you
”—I jabbed my finger into his
chest—
hard
—“get into my head and poison everything I’ve
worked so hard for.”

Still confused, Nick’s eyebrows pulled
together, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me into the living room.
I flopped down on his couch and he sat on the coffee table in front
of me. It must have been made of pretty durable materials, because
it didn’t even bow beneath his solid frame as he leaned forward,
resting his arms on his thighs.

“You told me my relationship was doomed.”
Nick nodded, but didn’t say anything. “You said I was dangerous.”
Another nod. “Well, it’s all I can seem to think about lately, and
it’s driving me crazy—so crazy that I’m unintentionally sabotaging
my relationship with David.”

“Are you sure it’s unintentional?”

Angry, I inhaled deeply, trying to keep
myself from punching him in the face—though, I wasn’t entirely
ruling that out as a possibility. “Of course it is. You think I
meant to get rough with him the other night or walk away from him
when he wanted to talk about our future together?” Nick grimaced,
but his eyes continued to hold mine, waiting for me to finish. Even
if he might not necessarily want to hear it. “I keep hearing
your
voice. Every time I start to think things really can
work between David and me,
you
creep in and tell me
otherwise.” My voice dropped to just above a whisper. “You’re
making me doubt that my feelings for him are anything but
true.”

Nick sighed. “Look, all I did was tell you
how it was for me, Brooke. Do I think you can make it work with a
human? No. Truthfully, I don’t. Especially not until you fully
understand what it is you’re capable of. Do I feel good about how I
left things with you? Of course not. I loved you, Brooke—Jesus, I
still do.”

His confession surprised me, but not nearly
as much as my reaction to hearing it: my heart skipped a beat, my
skin warmed with a blush, and a flurry of butterflies flourished
deep in my belly. I felt the need to return the sentiment out of
habit, but I resisted, because my love for David should mean more
to me than the love of the man who left me without an
explanation.

Should?

Nick took my hands in his again, the warmth
intense but not unnatural for our kind, apparently. “I love you,
Brooke, and on some level, I think you still love me.”

I yanked my hands from his, wiping them on
my jeans as though that would help get rid of the warm tingle that
covered my skin. “I love David,” I reminded him, my voice shaking,
uncertain, and he heard it. “You and I are over. You decided that
the day you left. Did I go to sleep every night hoping you’d come
back? Of course I did. But you didn’t. It took me a long time to
accept that you’d moved on…and then I met David. He’s everything
you’re not.” Even though I knew it would hurt Nick, it needed to be
said. “I can depend on him.”

As I expected it would, my confession seemed
to cut through Nick like a sword through the heart. He flinched
briefly, but he shrugged it off, sitting up a little straighter and
pretending like I didn’t just kick him in the balls.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” I whispered softly. “I’m
sure you don’t want to hear it, but he’s the one thing in my life
that makes sense right now.”

“You only feel that way because you’re
trying to hold onto your humanity.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” I demanded.

“Not necessarily, but it does keep you from
fully accepting who you are now.” He must have sensed my
bewilderment, because he elaborated. “You’ve said you accept what
you are now—a wolf—yet you choose to cling to everything that
reminds you of your human life: your job, your boyfriend, your
family. You cling to these things because they’re
normal
,
and that tiny part of you that still refuses to accept what you’ve
become craves the normalcy.”

“Again, I ask, is that so bad?”

Nick exhaled heavily and stood up so he
could pace the room. “The longer you take to fully accept who you
are, the more volatile you become. If you fight your true nature,
your human side will fight with the wolf. It won’t want to leave.
That’s when you’ll black out. And, like last time, you won’t
remember.”

“So, you want me to just walk away from it
all?”

He stopped pacing and faced me. “Brooke, I
learned a long time ago that I can’t tell you what to do. Only you
know what your heart wants.” His expression fell, despair reflected
in his eyes. “You know what you are, and only you can choose to
embrace it. If you think you can do that and hold onto your human
life, then do it.” His sorrow was palpable, filling the room like a
dark cloud as his gloomy eyes held mine. “Living with regret isn’t
so easy. Trust me.”

Having said his piece, Nick exited the
living room, leaving me alone to digest everything he just said. He
gave me his blessing to try to keep my life intact through all of
this. Was it really possible? He seemed hesitant, but I experienced
a renewed surge of conviction regarding my relationship.

Without wasting another minute, I ran from
the house and all the way home. I
could
make this work. I
was determined to. David and I could be together and figure out the
next step toward our future. No regrets.

The front door was still unlocked when I
arrived home, and I expected to find him waiting for me behind it.
But he wasn’t. I didn’t hear him—could barely smell him—but I did
sense something else.

Recoiling slightly, I took another tiny
whiff, choking on the smell and fighting back the bile that started
to rise in my throat. My mind registered it as familiar in an
instant, the hairs on the back of my neck standing as awareness
raced up my spine…

Death
.

I
ce ran through my
veins and panic hit me like a brick wall when I remembered I left
David here. Alone. Even though he was fully capable of taking care
of himself, I couldn’t help but fear the worst; that something
might have happened to him. As I quickly stepped forward to go find
him—
help
him—the smell enveloped me, shrouding my thoughts
and triggering that feeling of familiarity again. There were
definitely subtle hints of David’s warm scent in the air, but they
were merely traces, which meant he wasn’t here. I silently
rejoiced, knowing that wherever he was, he was safer than he would
be here.

How did I know this? While I couldn’t quite
pinpoint it right now, I sensed on a visceral level that whatever
was in my house was dangerous, and it unleashed something
defensive…something wild.

The repulsive odor was thick in the air,
slowly suffocating me, even with every stunted breath I took in an
effort to keep it from filling my lungs completely. Like any other
unpleasant smell, I cringed at the thought that it would seep into
everything it touched. The walls, the carpet, my furniture, my
clothes… My skin crawled as if repelling the stench from
infiltrating my body as well, and I fought back the urge to
wretch.

As I took another step into my house, my
disgust gave way to something else. While the smell still made it
difficult for me to keep my dinner down, something deep down
recognized whatever this was as a threat to my existence. Then it
hit me, taking me a couple weeks back to when we stumbled onto
The Dungeon
. A growl slowly formed in my belly, my hands
clenching at my sides as I instinctively crouched down into a
defensive stance, readying myself to pounce on whatever lurked
around the corner. I felt this way after seeing the club-goers and
knowing what kind of lifestyle they engaged in, and while this
feeling was similar, it was also quite a bit stronger. The beast
within snarled and clawed its way to the surface, but I kept it at
bay to the best of my ability. It had been a couple of weeks since
I had felt this way—not since the last full moon. It was too soon
for me to give into this feeling. I wasn’t ready.

From my living room, I heard books being
pulled from my shelves and tossed carelessly to the floor before
papers fluttered through the air and joined them. Who was it?
Didn’t know. Why were they doing this? No idea. All I could gather
was that someone—no, some
thing
, my instincts screamed—was
conducting a thorough search of my home, invading my personal
space, and just generally pissing me off.