Riley's Redemption (A Moon's Glow Novel) (31 page)

I stuffed the rest of
my eggs into my mouth and put my dish in the basin.

“Are you ready?”
Isaiah asked from behind me.

I turned around to
face him, a ball of dread forming in the pit of my stomach. “Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

For the rest of the
morning we prepared for the night to come. All month Isaiah had been melting
anything silver in the house and forming them into bullets. I had to handle the
silver objects and load them into the melting pot because Isaiah had developed
a reaction to it, another clue that our fear of his changing into a wolf was
more than just a suspicion. So when he loaded the gun with the new bullets, he
wore gloves, while I secured the silver chains to the bolts that we had fasted
to the concrete in the basement. We were quiet while we worked, doing what he
thought was necessary. And when there was nothing else we could do, he sat in
front of the fire and looked at pictures of his late wife. I knew he needed
privacy so I went to the library, back to the research I had started the day
after Aiden was killed. I had been engrossing myself in numerous mystical
books, reading up on werewolf legends and then moving on to other supernatural
creatures. A few days into my research, I began corresponding with different
people around the world and only now started receiving replies. I was
determined to find out the truth about all I had learned and if I could, maybe
even find proof of their existence.

At six o’clock, I
returned home, apprehension filled my body and gripped my heart. It was almost
time to find out if our suspicions were true.

When I arrived back at
the house, it was quiet, only the ticking of Isaiah’s grandfather clock could
be heard around the rooms. I found him in the living room, where I had left
him. This time he was gazing at a photo of me and Aiden. It was the day we had
left for the army and were dressed in our uniforms.

“Would you like
something to eat?” I asked in the silence of the room. When he simply shrugged,
I retreated into the kitchen. I wasn’t a great cook, but I tried and knowing
Isaiah’s favorites, I made him potatoes and ground meat. When it was done we
ate without speaking. The house itself seemed to have taken on a depression. Since
Aiden’s death the silence seemed to smother out all other sounds. I no longer
heard the laughter and voices from the kids playing in the neighboring yards,
or the leaves ruffling through the trees. No, it was just silence, because I
knew I would never hear the only sound I longed for and that was the sound of
Aiden’s voice. His loss had taken over our world. But now it was time to shift
our focus to the results of his death. I just wasn’t ready to do that. I
dreaded finding out for certain a fact that I already knew was true, Isaiah was
a werewolf.

After our meal, Isaiah
stood up from the table and began to clean. When every surface was gleaming, he
headed for the basement door and before he entered, he nodded at me. “It’s
time.” It was then that I noticed his face was flushed red and he was sweating.

I followed him down
the stairs; our shoes thudded against the wooden steps echoing in the small
space around us.

When we reached the
bottom, he laid down on the bare mattress we had placed down there earlier. He
held his arms and legs out and I stepped towards him, placing his wrists and
ankles in the manacles. My heart ached at the scene before me. The man that had
taken me in when I had nobody, who raised me as he had his own son was chained
up and completely vulnerable. It was too much, I had to look away. “Umm…” I
cleared my throat, pushing the lump that had formed back. “Is there anything
you need? Water or a blanket?” I placed the bowl full of raw meat I had brought
down with me on the floor near the bed.

“No, I’m fine, but I’d
like you to go now.”

Alarm bells went off
in my mind. “No, I...“

Isaiah’s cool hazel
eyes turned to focus on me and I swear they turned yellow. “Sebastian, I know
you want to help me, but I can’t let you see me this way. You need to go.”

Without any more
objections I nodded and rushed up the stairs. As I reached the top, Isaiah
yelled out. “Don’t forget to lock it.”

I closed the door
behind me and turned the locks. The door was steel and we had installed it a
few days before. There was no way Isaiah could get out and if he did, I was
charged with a gun loaded with the silver bullets. Isaiah’s instructions were
to stop him from leaving the house. He didn’t want to risk anymore innocent
lives.

I wasn’t exactly sure
if all of these precautions were needed. Just because Isaiah’s body might turn
into a beast didn’t mean his mind would. But when I had mentioned that to
Isaiah, he didn’t want to take any chances. He wouldn’t be the man I admired if
he did. He would never risk mine or anyone in the neighborhoods lives and that
was one of the reason I admired him so much.

I sat down on the
floor, leaning against the sofa, across from the basement door and waited; the
gun lay beside me on the wooden planks. An hour later, as my head started to bob
with fatigue, I heard the sound of a groan that soon deepened into a growl.
Chains rustled for a few minutes and then I heard nothing. The silence went on
for hours and when I could take it no longer, I pulled more raw meat out of the
fridge and went to the basement door. My hands were shaking as I turned the
locks. When I pushed the door open nothing happened. There was no savage wolf
at the top of the stairs, foaming at the mouth like Isaiah expected. There were
just the empty wooden steps that led down to the dark basement, lit with only a
few lights.

I stepped down the
creaky stairs, holding the bowl cautiously out in front of me. If he attacked,
hopefully the meat would tempt him more than me. When I passed the cluttered
shelves and into the small room I had left Isaiah in, I noticed that the bed
was empty and the manacles were still closed. At the sound of a huff of breath
I spun around feeling tense with nerves. There was a dark brown wolf lying on
the floor next to the bowl I had left earlier. It was empty and the wolf was
sleeping. My lips turned up at the sight. Isaiah thought he would turn into a
savage beast with the urge to rip out my throat. Although, I followed his
instructions, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was wrong. No one as giving and
kind as the gruff man who had raised an orphaned boy, would want to kill
anybody, even as a supernatural werewolf.

I sat down next to him
and placed the new bowl in front of his sleeping form. His nostrils flared as
he sniffed the meat. His eyes blinked open and his head jerked back when he saw
me. When he registered who I was and that I was down there with him, he whined
and nodded his head up the stairs.

“No. I’m going to stay
with you. I know you won’t hurt me.”

He growled, showing
his teeth. I knew what he was doing, he was trying to scare me away, but it
wouldn’t work. Instead of jumping up and running away like he wanted, I leaned
against the wall, pushing the meat closer to him. His growls stopped and he
gazed into my eyes as if contemplating the situation. Finally he grunted and
began to eat.

When the bowl was
empty he curled up once again and eventually drifted off.

I watched him sleep
for a few minutes and then looked up at the bed. I hadn’t noticed earlier but
the mattress was shredded. He must have done it when he was struggling to get
out of his restraints. It had to have been awful for him to go through the pain
of turning into a different species only to be unable to move when the
transformation was complete. Even though he had done it to himself, I didn’t
blame him for any of this. He was a victim, just like Aiden was. And I intended
to make the people responsible pay for what they did, no matter what.

I was still awake when
Isaiah turned back into a human. I looked away, tossing a blanket over him.

When he woke up, I was
still staring at the shredded mattress; a slow simmering rage flowed through my
body. “I’m going to make those werewolves pay for what they did. Every last one
of them will die for this.”

Isaiah stood up, the
blanket wrapped around his body as he stepped up to stand next to me. His eyes
were tortured with raw emotion. “But how do you fight a creature stronger than
you?” He spun around and waved his hand at the ripped bed before us, as if that
was proof that I was out of my league.

I didn’t look at him
as I answered; I simply stared at the claw marks. “Become a stronger creature.”

###

If you’d like to read more about Sebastian, look out
for him in a new series coming…Someday soon.

Also a preview of Fated Dreams, Book One in
the Affinity Series, available now, by Christina Smith

Brownridge,
Vermont

Three years ago

“How did I get here?” I asked
myself for the fourth time, although I already knew the answer. My voice was
muffled inside the closed, confined space.

It was
Saturday night and instead of hanging out at a party with Derrick and Emma like
I was supposed to be, where was I? In a closet and not the proverbial kind
either. I was literally in a closet, fluffy towels and all. Why? That’s a good
question and the only answer I could think of was my own stupidity.

Stephanie
Brown, honey-blonde hair, vivid blue eyes and a body every boy drooled over,
had it out for me. And again the question was, why? Well, the obvious answer
could only be Ryan Crenshaw, her ex-boyfriend. Not that he wasn’t worthy of her
attention—his wheat-colored hair and soul-deep blue eyes would make male
underwear models envious—but he just wasn’t interested in her anymore.

He
told me once that the only reason he liked her in the first place was because
he was new to the school and didn’t know any better. But once he did, he dumped
her right on her cashmere-covered ass. And when Ryan started eating lunch with
me, she decided that I was her enemy. She even convinced the entire school to
hate me and the social-climbing drones of the student body listened to her.
Ever since I started at Hadley Academy six months ago, the only friend I’d had
was Ryan and he was only a friend. As much as Stephanie, the self-proclaimed
queen of the school, thought differently.

Not
that I was desperately in need of extra friends. I had two of the best ones
anyone could ask for, but since they attended a public school on the other side
of town, my days were filled with cold stares and the occasional prank.

I
thought my luck had changed a few days ago when the queen witch herself asked
me over for a slumber party with her two best friends. At first I was
skeptical, considering her obvious dislike for me. But since she had made the
effort, I hoped it was the start of a normal life for me at school, so I agreed
against my better judgment.

The
evening started out okay. She showed me around her enormous mansion, making
sure I noticed all the expensive-looking furniture, rich silks and classic
artwork that were displayed throughout the rooms.

After
a gourmet dinner, I followed Stephanie up to her room. It was painted red and
white, with photos placed perfectly along the walls. Above her bed was a
portrait of the queen herself, which I thought was tacky.

The
distinct scent of an expensive perfume filled the air; it was such a strong
odor I figured she bathed in it or spilled the bottle. Either way, the smell
was overpowering. I used to like that particular scent, but now I feared I
could never use it without thinking of her.

She
sat on her bed with her puppets, as I now called Trudy and Tara, while I took
the plush, wine-colored armchair near the closet.

“So
Sarah, do you think you’re pretty?” Stephanie asked.

“Uh…I
don’t know, why?”

She
scowled. “I asked Ryan why he was talking to you all the time. And do you know
what he said?”

I
didn’t like where this was going. “No,” I answered quietly, afraid to look into
her eyes.

“He
said that you were sweet and pretty. And that he liked your dark eyes and your
long brown hair.”

I
glanced at Trudy and Tara, hoping for help, but their smirks told me I couldn’t
count on them. This wasn’t good.

She
didn’t wait for a response before continuing and really, what was I going to
say, she was obviously up to something. A knot of trepidation formed in the pit
of my stomach. “I can’t do anything about your eyes, but I can do something
about that hair.” She bent down and picked up something hidden under her bed.

I had
a feeling I knew what was about to happen and I hoped I was wrong.

She
turned back around, holding a pair of industrial-size, shiny, silver scissors.
Oh shit. Her smile was all steel as she glanced at me and then at the shears.

Now I
knew why they invited me here and it wasn’t to become my friend.

God,
I was so stupid. Why would I think that after months of her ignoring me, the
frost queen would suddenly be nice to me? I should have known that a girl like
her, rich, snobby and just plain mean, was incapable of change.

Glaring
at the scissors, I gulped, making the only decision I could think of. I took
off out the door of her bedroom.

As I
ran down the hall, I heard her yell, “Get her, girls.”

This
was so cliché. I was living a horror flick and I couldn’t believe I fell for
it.

So now the question was, how did
I get myself out of this odd situation I suddenly found myself in?

It
was so dark in the closet I couldn’t see the hand I held out in front of my
face. If there was a light bulb in here, I wasn’t going to turn it on for fear
I’d give away my position. A floral scent wafted around the tiny cubby. I
stretched out my hand and felt the soft towels that were folded neatly on a
shelf beside me.

With
my head pressed against the door, I sat down on the floor, trying to think of
what to do next. My eyes were closed as I listened carefully, hearing only my
own breathing and the faint sound of footsteps as they searched another part of
the house. I was safe, for now. Although I knew I couldn’t hide forever.

Since
I had nothing else to do, I tapped my knee with my finger to the tune of the
national anthem. It must have helped my thought process, because I remembered
something. I had seen a phone sitting on a stand in the hall on my way to this
closet. Maybe I could crawl over to it while the crazy girls were occupied and
call my mom. Then I could sneak outside and wait behind some bushes. I really
didn’t want a haircut. I couldn’t believe she was going to chop off my hair
just because her ex-boyfriend talked to me and became my friend.

What
was I thinking; of course she would.

I
waited a few seconds, making sure they were still out of hearing distance
before making my move.

Opening
the door very slowly, I crawled out, looking around to make sure I was alone.
Since my eyes had adapted to the darkness of the small closet, they now felt
strained from the wash of light coming from the fixture above me. The hallway
was clear, so I continued to crawl slowly on my hands and knees along the soft
oatmeal-colored carpet, careful not to make any sound. The phone was just a
couple feet away on a small oak table against the wall.

I was
almost there when I heard a squeaky voice I recognized as Tara’s. “There she
is,” she yelled, pointing at me from the other end of the hallway.

Crap.
I stood up and ran as fast as I could for the portable handset. I picked it up
and dialed my number quickly. My mom answered, “Hello.”

The
words “come get me” rushed out of my mouth before a well-manicured hand reached
for the receiver. I turned to see Stephanie slam her finger down, ending my
call and the only chance of escape.

She
smiled wickedly; her fierce blue eyes shot out imaginary icicles that filled me
with fear. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Tara
and Trudy held on to me while I pleaded with them to stop. I hoped that they
would feel guilty and let me go. That hope was short-lived when I saw laughter
in their eyes. They were just as evil as Stephanie was.

As I
struggled, I felt the first cut and some of my hair that had taken years to
grow fell to the floor. I panicked, stomped on someone’s foot and took off running.
Fingers slipped from my skin. I was free.

“Get
her, now!” the evil witch screamed. In my haste I tripped on the edge of the
carpet, giving Tara a chance to grab my arm before I could get away, her
pointed nails digging into my skin.

They
held on tighter this time and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get away. I sobbed
quietly as they chopped off my hair. My heart sank with every snip of the
scissors. The strands brushed my arm and feet as they fell to the floor,
feeling like soft feathers caressing my skin. I closed my eyes, hoping that was
all it was, a pillow torn open above my head.

When
the awful snipping sounds stopped, I opened my eyes to see most of my hair
lying in clumps at me feet. I could no longer pretend they were anything else.
I knew that the pile of brown clippings curled up along the carpet was mine. I
stared down at it with a feeling of numbness. my long mane that I had taken
such care of was now taunting me from the floor. When I was little, I asked to
have long hair just like my mother. After that, she would brush it lovingly
every night, buying products to keep it soft and shiny. She said it was one of
the reasons she wanted a daughter, to dress her up and play with her hair. And
now the remaining pieces lay on the floor, being stomped on by Stephanie’s
open-toed red sandals.

They
let me go and started to laugh. “I don’t think Ryan will be interested in you
now. My goodness, Sarah, what happened to your hair?” she mocked. “You know,
you really should stop going to your dad’s barber.” Stephanie’s sick attempt at
humor made the lump in my throat threaten to grow.

Trudy
and Tara laughed at her joke with twin high-pitched screeches. They were eerily
similar, with matching gray eyes, black hair and milky complexions. If Trudy
wasn’t four inches taller than Tara, I’d think they were twins, although they
weren’t even related.

I ran
to Stephanie’s room, picked up my bag and took off in the direction of the
front door. As I rushed out, I heard her shrill voice calling after me. “Oh
Sarah, are you leaving so soon?” And of course more laughter followed.

I
stumbled out of her house into the night. In the darkness, I followed the
walkway to the road, feeling embarrassed and angry and an ache formed in my
chest before the tears started to fall.

I wasn’t
paying attention to where I was going and started walking aimlessly. My tears
were flowing hard, obscuring my view. My foot caught in a crack in the road and
I fell to the ground. My hands dug into the asphalt, scraping my palms.

I
pushed myself up and continued walking.

Would
this horror movie ever end? I hoped to wake up in my room, having dreamed the
whole thing. Closing my eyes, I willed it to be true, but fate was not on my
side; this was really happening. I was still here wandering the roads, praying
I was heading in the right direction.

After
what seemed like hours, I saw headlights behind me. A car pulled along the
sidewalk and the passenger side window slowly rolled down. “OH, MY GOD, SARAH!
WHAT HAPPENED?” my mother yelled from the driver’s seat.