Bright Moon (19 page)

Clara heard the pack’s voices in her head.
“She jumped out of the boat,”
Callan kept saying, only he
didn’t speak with words and she was unsure of how she understood.
“She must be crazy to leap out of a boat in the middle of that
lake.”

“
Or terrified,”
Jack’s voice was a
whisper.

Mesha’s words were driven by worry.
“Is
she alright? Is she alright?”
The question repeated over and
over in a quiet, steady undertone and continued no matter how they
assured her.

Dawn’s voice didn’t sound as frequently, but
her burning concern could not be ignored.
“That poor child,”
she would say.
“How could Parker be so calloused?”

Tyson did not seem to hear any of them and
his voice was loudest.
“I must keep her safe…I must keep her
safe…I MUST KEEP HER SAFE…I MUST KEEP HER SAFE…”
The words
growled in her mind.

All of their expressions ran together until
Clara could hardly tell them one from another. She forgot the dream
when she opened her eyes and the reality of pain encompassed her
every thought. Breathing hurt, thinking hurt, trying to move hurt,
even holding still hurt. On the bright side, the deep, disturbing,
black cold had lifted from her bones and she was warm. Her fist
closed around fur and she stared at the dense coat of a black wolf,
and not utter darkness as she’d first assumed. Fur surrounded her
on all sides. The silver she recognized as Mesha’s and the black
she assumed was Tyson’s. Bits of a rusty-brown color peaked through
above. She reached her arm out and touched the big, black head of
what she thought was Tyson until his eyes shot open to reveal
emerald green irises peering at her.

“Callan!” she exclaimed in a whisper, her
voice croaking. Her toes curled around more fur at the joy of
seeing her brother unhurt. Callan’s eye smiled and he huffed. She
noted his fur was tipped with white as if he’d stayed out in a
winter storm too long, but ice could not affect a werewolf and she
knew it was his coloring. When she looked more closely, she noticed
it differed greatly from the pitch black of Tyson’s coat. “Thank
you,” she whispered with her hand still on his cheek and she did
not mean to only thank him. As it was, her body proved too
exhausted to attempt explanation and she fell back to sleep while
listening to the rhythm of their breathing. It was music to her
ears.

She did not wake until many hours later when
she heard their words again. This time they argued. Callan’s words
were not very clear. She more sensed than heard his rage, which
hindered his communication.
“We have to get her back,”
Jack
said, and Dawn readily agreed with him.

“
She will need nourishment.”

Callan’s words dissipated as they were
replaced with images of Parker.

“
We must kill him,”
Tyson breathed
out the threat and Callan growled his support.
“He will not hurt
her again…we must kill him!”

“
Yes!”
Callan snarled.

“
She needs to go back,”
Mesha said,
although the images of Parker enraged her as well.
“Hunting him
now will not help her get well.”

“
It will help me feel better,”
Callan
growled.

“
They are right…we need to get her back
and she needs our protection,”
Tyson pointed out.
“We will
move as soon as she’s able. Maybe when she is relocated we can hunt
them down, but we must keep her safe.”

Tyson’s words calmed Callan some. Clara
could feel him huffing and panting to keep control of his emotions.
“I want to kill him.”

“
We ALL want to kill him!”
Mesha
snapped.

Clara shuddered and they fell still.

“
Is she cold?”
Mesha asked.

“
Perhaps she is getting sick again!”
Dawn exclaimed and a fountain of worry flooded from Callan as he
was lost to his emotions again. Clara sensed he’d stayed still too
long and needed to stretch his legs to cool his head.

“
She is fine,”
Jack assured them.
“But we should get her back.”

“
Can she be moved?”
Mesha and Dawn
wondered the same thing at once.

“I can make it,” Clara muttered without
opening her eyes and their words stopped altogether as if they were
holding their breaths. When they spoke again, all their words
melded as if echoing off canyon walls.

“
Can she hear us?”
a few asked at
once.

“
How can she hear us?”
still more
queried.

“
STOP!”
Tyson roared. His voice was
the loudest, he was
always
the loudest. She heard her name,
but her senses dimmed and she rested again. The next she opened her
eyes, the smell of wolf was gone, and in its place was the
unmistakable scent of a clean car. She lay on her side with her
head in someone’s lap and a seatbelt digging her hip. She’d been
dressed in warm clothing and draped with blankets. Someone’s hands
rested on her shoulder and hair.

“Tyson?” she asked before she’d fully come
from her sleep.

“No, it’s me,” Mesha responded as her
fingers moved to touch her forehead.

“Where…”

“He’s here, sis,” Callan said from the front
passenger seat.

“I don’t understand,” she said and struggled
against the sway of the car. The blankets fell when she leaned to
see Tyson as best she could from the angle she sat. “What about
Jothram? You promised…”

“I was wrong, Clara,” Tyson responded
without taking his eyes from the road. His fingers tightened on the
wheel when she leaned between their seats. “He’s moved.”

“Where has he moved to?” she asked, her brow
knitting.

“I don’t know for sure.”

“You have an idea though, don’t you?”

“Take it easy, Clare,” Callan said, twisting
in his seat until he faced her.

“He’s right,” Mesha confirmed and grasped
Clara’s shoulders to pull her back. “You nearly lost your fingers
you know.”

“And your toes,” Callan added.

“I did?”

Mesha nodded.

“Where are Jack and Dawn?” she asked as she
glanced around the vehicle while rubbing her hands together. Her
fingers did feel thick and stiff, as did her joints and toes.

“They’re running,” Callan nodded out the
window.

Clara shut her eyes as images of glass tubes
filled with blood flashed in her mind. “Callan,” she gasped,
leaning forward suddenly, “he said it was mom’s blood.”

“What?”

“Parker, he was going to inject me with
blood…he said it was mom’s.”

Callan’s face fell and his brow furrowed.
Tyson’s arms tensed further and his knuckles turned white on the
wheel. “You can’t let him get in your head,” Tyson said. “He only
said it to hurt you.”

“What if it really was hers?” she asked in a
whisper. “He said…he said she wasn’t dead.”

“He is cruel, Clara. He is worse than my
brother in the way he takes enjoyment from other’s suffering. Do
you know what that blood would have done to you?” He glanced at her
through the rearview mirror.

“I didn’t really understand what was going
on,” she admitted, “but he was trying to infect me, wasn’t
he?”
“Wasn’t that why you threw yourself out of the boat? To avoid
becoming infected?” Callan asked, still facing her.

“No, not really. He kept talking about mom’s
blood and her being alive. I didn’t think about what he was doing…I
just wanted to get away from him.”

Tyson laughed shortly and shook his head.
“If that don’t beat all,” he muttered under his breath.

“Did you…” she hesitated when she remembered
how angry they had sounded while discussing their desire to kill
James Parker. “Did you kill him?”

There was a moment when Tyson and Callan
exchanged looks and she could not decipher their expressions. “No,
sis, we didn’t,” Callan said as he leaned toward her to touch her
hand.

“You sounded so angry,” she murmured. “I
thought you would leave me to kill him.”

This time he glanced to Mesha and their
brows rose in shock.

“I didn’t, but are you saying you could hear
us?”

“Of course I could, you were
shouting…
all
of you were shouting.”

Callan’s emerald eyes glinted as confusion
passed over his face. “What else did you hear?”

“Tyson mostly, because he was the loudest,
but I could hear all of you.”

Tyson’s icy eyes caught hers through the
mirror and his was an expression of confusion as well. “You should
not have been able to hear us,” he said. “We were in our wolf
forms.”

“But I did. Mesha kept saying the same thing
over and over at first, so did you…then you were all arguing about
whether or not you should find Parker and kill him. I think you
tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t…and then I woke up here.”

Callan sat back to better see Tyson. “What
does it mean?” he asked as if it were evidence she’d contracted a
terrible virus.

“I’m not sure. I honestly have never heard
of such a thing. She’s mortal, she should not have been able to
hear us.”

“Have you ever heard us before?” Mesha
asked.

“No,” Clara answered with a shake of her
head, a motion she quickly stopped when her temples and neck pulsed
painfully.

“Could she have been infected?” Callan asked
anxiously.

“She would not be ill or weak right now if
she had,” Tyson said.

“I wasn’t infected,” Clara affirmed. “He
dropped the needle when the boat tipped. Although, I don’t—”

Mesha’s hand came on her knee, stopping her
from saying more and Clara bit her lip.

“Although you don’t what?” Tyson asked,
glancing at her again.

“Although nothing, she shouldn’t be exerting
herself this way,” Mesha cut in and drew Clara to her side. “You
should try to rest.”

“Yes,” Callan agreed with a nod. “Try to
take it easy.”

Clara did as they said and tried to rest,
but she could feel Tyson’s inquisitive gaze upon her and she
wondered if he guessed what she’d been about to say.

Uncertainty
snatched Clara’s awareness once more as she slept. Her body was not
yet fully recovered and lingered somewhere near exhaustion. Their
unexpected expedition was drawn to a close that evening when they
stopped for a break, if only for her sake. She was somewhat aware
of being moved into a hotel while she slept. The next she opened
her eyes, the familiar pink rose was bowing in its vase next to her
bed and she discovered she was no longer napping in the back of a
car. Her head pounded with pain as she moved to sit up. She covered
her eyes with her hands in a small effort to block the light and
alleviate the pulsing.

“You need to drink something,” Jack said.
Clara removed her hands from her face long enough to see he was
standing near the window on the furthest wall. He was the only one
in the room as far as she could tell. He went to the small fridge
and pulled out a clear water bottle, tossing it next to her on the
bed. The springs in the mattress bounced when it landed. “You were
practically lethargic when Ty carried you in, otherwise I would
have made you drink something then.”

“Thank you,” she muttered and broke the seal
on the bottle by twisting it open. The plastic crinkled and popped
as she began to drink. Her throat and tongue felt thick they were
so dry and she drank deeply, downing half its contents before
emerging long enough to ask, “Where are the others?”

“Our emotions are still pretty hot after
what happened,” he said and looked away. She guessed his eyes
glowed. “They went for a quick run. Cal wanted to be here when you
woke up and pressed himself to stay as long as he could, but you
know how dangerous that can be for a young pup.”

She glanced at the digital clock on the
nightstand next to the rose and noted it was nearing four. The
darkness outside told her it was early morning. “How long have we
been here?”
“Tyson called a stop late last night.”

She tipped what was left of the water into
her mouth and swallowed. Already her head pounded a little less
painfully and she sighed with relief. Jack stayed near the window
and kept an eye trained on the lot. His shoulders and hands were
tense.

“How long have you been in here?” she asked,
noticing his unease.

“Since the moon set. Tyson’s willpower is
strong, but even he needs to get out there and run from time to
time…especially after being so angry.”

The hall door rattled and swung open when
Dawn bustled in just then carrying a takeout sack. “They make it
nearly impossible to find something good to eat this early,” she
said to Jack before spotting Clara and gasping. “My dear girl! I am
so pleased to see you awake!” The paper bag was set on the
nightstand before she gave Clara a quick hug.

“Thank you, Dawn,” she answered with a
smile. “I never got to thank you…
both
of you for everything
you did to help me out on the lake.”

“Oh posh,” Dawn said with a wave of her
hand. “Of course we wanted to help. Here, dear, this is for you.”
She said and touched the sack with her fingers. “Some breakfast
burritos, with no meat of course.”

“That’s very kind of you, thanks!” she said
and pulled out a foil wrapped burrito, moving from beneath the
covers to sit on the edge of the bed as she did. Her stomach was so
empty it practically turned over at the sight of food.

“I packed some of your things. I took the
liberty of purchasing some things as well. Everything is in the
bathroom when you’re feeling up to it,” Dawn added.

Clara was in the middle of chewing her food
and swallowed before speaking. “Thank you. I was wondering, were
you the one who purchased my clothes when we stayed at the hotel
before?”

“Yes,” Dawn affirmed with a nod and patted
her hair. “I would have stayed, but Tyson sent me ahead with Koty,
mostly to keep Koty from the innocents. She was never very stable.
She and I ran ahead when the moon was still up and prepared the
cabin for the rest of the pack.”