Ghost Moon

by Cheree Alsop

I opened my eyes to see Ceren’s dully glowing form beyond the foggy shower door.

  “Maybe,” I replied. “It feels good.”

  “I remember.”

  Her voice was so quiet I didn’t know if she meant for me to overhear, but a pang of sadness went through me at the thought of how hard it must be to want the things the rest of us took for granted.

  I turned off the faucet and grabbed one of the fluffy towels Mrs. Willard always had stacked on the shelf near the shower door. A glance at Ceren showed that the ghost had turned away to give me some privacy. I wrapped the towel around my waist and grabbed a shirt from the pile of second-hand clothes Mrs. Willard had started keeping in there. Ceren stopped me before I could put it on.

  “Tell me about the wolf pawprint.”

  I glanced down at the mark on my chest. The jagged outline of the pawprint was black against my skin. It was rough, raised slightly, and I could feel its presence even with a shirt on.

  “Those same witches who took care of the jakhin’s body shot me with silver, then saved my life when they realized I wasn’t all bad,” I told her. “The head witch said the pawprint is the reminder that I survived out of sheer stubbornness.” My tone was wry as I pulled the shirt over my head and straightened it.

  “What about that burn on your hip?”

  I glanced down and saw that the towel had started to fall. Embarrassment washed over me as I snugged it tighter.

  “That was from fighting an acid-spewing demon fiend called a diablo monk. It wanted the Lair for its own master.” My voice quieted when I said, “We lost five of our brethren and sisters that day.”

  I pulled on a pair of pants and threw the towel into the hamper near the door.

  Ceren pointed to a mark just visible below the hem of my tee shirt. “And that one?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have time to tell you the story behind every scar. We need to track down the khavis.”

  “No.”

  I looked up, expecting to meet her gaze in the mirror, but only my reflection showed. Her statement that she could only see herself in my eyes whispered in the back of my mind when I turned to face her.

  “Ceren, we have to stop it.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  I stared at her. “But it’s dangerous out there. It could hurt people.”

  “It could hurt you,” she replied.

  I watched her a moment before I let out a breath. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “But you bleed,” she pointed out as I reached for the doorknob.

  I paused with my fingers stretched out. “And it’s a ghost eater.” I looked at her. “You need to stay here.”

  She shook her head, but fear showed in her eyes. “Not if you’re going out there.”

  “It can’t hurt me,” I told her.

  “How do you know?” she demanded. “You don’t know anything about it!”

  I leaned against the door. “Then I’ll learn. I can’t just let it go hurt innocent humans, not to mention the ghosts wandering around out there.”

  “Why not?”

  Her question rang through the bathroom. It was a demand, but it was also filled with panic, fear, and worry that were as easy to read as the howl of a wolf.

  I ran my fingers across the healing wound down my forearm as I answered, “Because I have things to make up for. I told you. I’ve hurt a lot of lives, and it’s my turn to protect them.”

  “But what if you can’t?” Her question came as a whisper.

  I held her gaze when I replied, “Then I’ll die trying.”

  Anger made her expression stiffen. She clenched her jaw so hard I saw the muscle jump that ran along it. When she spoke, her hands were curled into fists.

  “You’re an idiot, Zev. You’re going to throw your life away. I saw you nearly do it with the gang, and they didn’t manage to kill you, so now you’re going out after this khavis. Well, I’m done with it. I’m done with you, and I never want to see you again.”

  Her words hollowed me out, but I forced myself to reply, “Fine.”

  I opened the door and stepped into the hall.

  “Fine,” she shouted back. “I’m leaving. I’m going back to the beginning and I don’t want to see you ever again!”

  She vanished. I shut the door in a futile effort to leave her in there. The fact that she could just go through the door teased at the back of my mind. I ignored it and set my forehead on the cool, painted surface of the wood for a moment.

  “Zev, are you alright? I heard you talking to someone.”

  I pushed away at the sound of Mitch’s voice.

  “I’m fine,” I told him. “We need to rally the pack.”

  “They’re just getting ready for a run,” he replied, following me to the kitchen. “What’s up?”

  I was about to answer when Virgo opened the door from the basement. The warlock gave me a searching look.

  “You alright?” he asked.

  “Fine,” I replied shortly. “Everyone needs to stop asking me that.” I turned toward the kitchen door. “What I need is for you to fill us in on what you and James found out about the khavis. We’re going hunting.”

  “When?” the warlock asked in surprise.

  “Right now,” I replied.

  I left the warlock staring after us and stepped into the welcoming wash of moonlight that lit the backyard. Striker, Safira, and Frost were already there in wolf form. The huge dark gray wolf paced to meet us followed by the smaller almost white form of Safira and Frost’s long-legged brown and black youthful frame.

  Tingles of anticipation rushed along my limbs at the thought of joining them. At least in wolf form, the hunt would be an enjoyable one.

  “I need your help to track down a dangerous creature,” I told them. “It was summoned by a murderer to stop the ghost of the man he murdered from harassing him.” I glanced at Mitch. “He’s the same one who summoned the jakhins. If the witches are right, there’s still one of those around, too. We need to be careful.”

  The wolves’ expressions sobered, telling me they understood just how dangerous this could be. We had hunted down our share of deadly creatures for the Master. The same feeling of anticipation filled me as it had before each of those hunts.

  “We’ve trained for this,” I reminded them. “Remember what you’ve learned, don’t take unnecessary risks, and if you find either the khavis or the jakhin, howl for the others.”

  “We’re splitting up?” Mitch asked.

  I nodded. “The faster we find these creatures and stop them, the better.”

  “And I’ll be ready,” Virgo said. He held up the knife that smelled of lavender. “As soon as your howls tell me where you are, I’ll be there to finish the job.”

  I had to give the warlock credit for bravery. His arm was still wrapped and there was no doubt the thought of going against another jakhin was terrifying, but he didn’t let it show on his face or in his voice.

  “We’re lucky to have you on our side,” I told him.

  A slight smile touched the warlock’s face. He looked at each of the wolves in turn. “From what James looked up, a khavis is a lot like a jakhin, but bigger. I’d recommend for you to be careful, be quick, and watch out for their claws.”

  Snorts of laughter came from the wolves.

  Virgo looked at me. “What are they doing?”

  “Agreeing,” I told him while trying to hide my own smile.

  “I was trying to motivate them,” he said in a whisper. “I figured it would help against terrifying creatures.”

  “It’s helping,” I replied in the midst of more snorts.

  The warlock’s eyes widened as if he just remembered that werewolves could hear whispers. “I just don’t want you to be afraid,” he said.

  Mitch took pity on Virgo and set a hand on his arm. “You’re doing great. We’ll let you know when we find anything.” He turned his eyes to me. “Ready?”

  A smile of a
nticipation lifted my lips. “Ready.”

  Running through the forest in wolf form filled me with renewed energy. We had sectioned out Brickwell into quadrants for each of us to sweep. I kept my ears tuned to the sounds around me. If any of the other werewolves gave the call, I would head that way immediately.

  Worry for Ceren hounded my steps. The thought that she was out there somewhere with a ghost eater wouldn’t leave me alone. She might have been angry, but she was also sweet and funny when she wanted to be. The fear that the ghost eater would find her first kept me running. If we could find it, then Ceren would be protected for whatever the future held. One thing I could admit to myself was that I wanted her to be safe and happy above all else. But we needed to stop the khavis first.

  As my nose sifted through the thousands of scents of city life, my mind refused to slow. Usually phasing to wolf form meant shutting away some of the clutter of human life. The emotions and fears were muted, leaving the clarity of animal thought as another form of freedom.

  But this time, something continued to nag at the back of my mind. As the moon circled lower on the horizon, the lack of any scent belonging to either the khavis or the jakhin pressed ominously against me. None of the werewolves sounded the alarm. The fear that the creatures had moved beyond Brickwell to somewhere else increased with each beat of my paws. I snuck between houses and down alleys, checking the backs of stores and beneath vehicles. The thought they might have moved out of our reach was a terrifying one. If we didn’t stop them, who could?

  Memories of the nightmare I’d had at the college surfaced. Flashes of pain, the sound of the jakhin’s claws on the painted bricks, and the blackest black of her eyes haunted me. I stumbled over a curb and barely righted myself in time to avoid smashing into the side of a building. Realizing I was a danger to myself if I didn’t get my thoughts in order, I stopped and sat beneath the pooling light of the library’s front steps.

  The jakhin had chased me through the college. It had felt so real and terrifying. I had awoken from that nightmare to see Ceren for the first time. What had she said in the bathroom? She had yelled something about going back to the beginning.

  The realization made me open my eyes. I had to go to Township.

  There was no way to let the others know. If they came upon the khavis or jakhin, at least Virgo was there to help them. I couldn’t leave Ceren alone to deal with either creature if my nightmare was right. I had to hurry.

  I ran through the forests that separated Brickwell from Township faster than I ever had before. Gray was barely touching the horizon by the time the city came into view. I paused only long enough to phase and pull on the clothes I had hidden at the edge of the college, then I ran through the grounds.

  That fact that it was a Saturday was obvious by the lack of vehicles in the parking lot. Apparently, teachers relished the weekend as much as the students did. Professor Shipley’s comment that I should get some rest this weekend made me shake my head. Rest definitely wasn’t in the cards for this werewolf.

  I picked the lock on the Science and Arts building and let myself inside. With my chest heaving and my heart thundering in my ears, I stood still and tried to listen.

  Silence met me, whispering that perhaps I was wrong. Maybe the nightmare was just a nightmare. If Ceren was safe and the khavis gone, I would have allowed myself the foolishness of running dozens of miles to save her.

  A scream shattered the wry smile that had spread across my face at my actions. Another scream sounded and the smile turned into a shout.

  “Ceren, I’m coming!”

  I took off running. I hoped it was only the jakhin who was there. If it was, it would be no threat to Ceren and I could defeat it with the knife in my pocket.

  Ceren’s terrified scream contradicted that thought. I ran around the corner. My bare feet made a squeak on the tiles when I slid to a stop.

  That was no jakhin.

  A hulking, spiked, wretched looking form had its claws sunk deep into the bricks on either side of where Ceren was huddled in the corner. Four massive arms with huge, curved claws glistened with a glowing, green slime. Its legs were as thick as pillars. Gouge marks that it had made when walking tore up the tile beneath its claws. When it growled, a billowy, slimy haze battered up against Ceren.

  She closed her eyes. Spittle landed on her cheeks. Her hair moved from the creature’s breath. In the days I had known her, neither the breeze, walking, or even the fighting we had done had made her hair move at all. This creature existed in both realms. And given the way it towered over her, leering down at her small, glowing form, it was going to kill her.

  “Leave her alone!” I shouted.

  I grabbed the nearest object I could find, a trash can, and hurled it down the hall with all my might.

  The creature didn’t look up at my shout, but when the trash can hit it, it straightened and looked over its shoulder. It had a double set of fiery red human eyes embedded in a skull that was shaped like a praying mantis. Virgo and James were wrong. This monster was nothing like a jakhin.

  When it spotted me, its eyes narrowed.

  “Ceren, run!” I shouted.

  But she could barely bring herself to look at me. She shook so hard I was amazed she remained standing. She appeared frozen in fear, her feet glued to the ground.

  “She’s mine,” the khavis said.

  He turned back to her and sucked in.

  The pale light surrounding Ceren was pulled toward the creature’s gaping mouth. The rows upon rows of teeth turned inward as if to keep her spirit inside. The white light snagged on its bloody teeth, then flowed into its gaping maw.

  A gasp escaped Ceren. Her eyes shut tight as if she was in pain, and her body lifted off the ground toward the creature.

  “No!” I shouted.

  I ran with all the speed my werewolf form possessed and threw myself in front of the creature. I hit the khavis in the stomach. Pain jolted up my arm, but he gave no indication that he even felt the blow. I tried to push Ceren out of the way, but my arm just passed through her. Her eyes didn’t open as the light around her continued to flow to the khavis.

  He sucked in again. More white light flooded around me from Ceren and up to the creature. His nine-foot-tall frame towered above me. The bulk of his massive arms and legs caged me in.

  “No!” I growled. “Let her go!”

  I gathered every bit of strength I had and slammed my fist again into the khavis’ stomach. I felt the bones in my arm give with the blow, but the creature didn’t even bat an eye.

  Cradling my arm against my chest, I fumbled for my pocket. Of course I had put the knife in my right one that was now nearly impossible to reach. When my left failed, I gritted my teeth and shoved my right hand inside. The pain was excruciating, but gratitude filled me when my numb fingers responded and pulled out the knife.

  My palm burned when I dropped the silver blade into it.

  It was a feeble knife the size of my first finger when it was opened. The scent of lavender along its surface burned my nose. I had no reason to hope it would do anything, but I also had nothing to lose.

  I switched the knife to my left and glanced over my shoulder. The glow around Ceren was lessening. The look of pain on her face drove me to act recklessly. I had to stop it. I had to save her.

  I gripped the knife tightly and thrust it toward the creature’s stomach where my fist had broken against its thick skin. A quick flicker of my eyes caught something and I changed my trajectory. At the last possible second, I shoved the knife up through the exposed skin beneath the creature’s arm deep into its armpit.

  The khavis gave a roar of rage and batted me away as easily as if I had been a fly or a gnat. I hit the brick wall and fell to my knees on the tile. The khavis let out another roar and tried to pull out the knife, but it couldn’t grip the tiny blade with its massive claws.

  Unable to withdraw the source of its discomfort, the creature turned its attention to the one who had caused it. Fear spiked d
own my spine when its double set of red eyes found me.

  I looked from it to where Ceren had curled up in a fetal position on the ground. I wanted to go to her so badly to ensure that she was alright, but the danger still remained. My only thought was to get the creature as far from the ghost as possible. I pushed to my feet and took off running.

  “Werewolf,” the khavis growled from behind me.

  The memory of my dream battered against me and a shudder ran through my entire body. A jolt darted up my broken arm with every step, but fear and adrenaline kept me going.

  “You’re mine,” the khavis said.

  His voice was closer. The shattering sound of the tiles beneath his feet and the ear-splitting protest of the bricks beneath his claws echoed down the halls. A glance back showed him gaining at an impossible speed.

  With my heart pounding in my throat, I looked for an escape. I couldn’t reach the set of doors at the far end of the hall in time. The khavis would be on me in two or three more steps. There was nowhere I could go.

  Chapter Eleven

  My eyes focused on the men’s bathroom. The door was only a few feet away. I didn’t have a plan for when I reached the inside, but instincts pressed me to find an escape. I had to try.

  My hand closed on the handle of the bathroom door and yanked it open as a thick set of claws tore deep across my side. I stumbled into the room gripping my bleeding stomach.

  Five stalls lined the right side of the bathroom with two sinks and a wide mirror on the left. I dove for the first stall as the khavis crashed through the door, leaving it hanging on tattered hinges.

  “You’re mine,” the creature repeated in a rumbling growl.

  He tore through the door to the first stall, but I had already shoved my way on my back to the next one, leaving a trail of blood in my wake.

  The next two doors were obliterated with crashes so loud it was all I could do to keep from covering my ears. I sat with my back against the wall of the last stall and listened for the khavis to get closer. It would find me. Its hulking form blocked all hope of escape. Any thought I’d had of fighting it with the lavender-coated knife had vanished beneath the khavis’ arm. I had no other weapons, my stomach and side were bleeding far more than I knew was healthy, and spots were beginning to dance in my vision.