A Brush with the Moon (Fosswell Chronicles) (Foxblood Book 1)

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A Brush with the Moon (Fosswell Chronicles) (Foxblood Book 1) Page 8

by Raquel Lyon


  “I’m very attracted to you, Sophie,” he said. “You must know that. And I’m getting the vibes that you like me too.”

  “I don’t do vibes,” I said unconvincingly. I could die in those eyes.

  “Do you believe in magic, Sophie?” His question broke into my daydream and got my attention.

  “Sorry?”

  “You know, like fairies or witches, for instance?”

  “A random question.”

  “But a serious one. So…?”

  “You mean weird old ladies who make potions from the plants in their gardens and live with their cats?”

  He chuckled. “Not quite. How about ghosts?”

  “I’m not sure. There was this one time back home when—”

  “Demons? Vampires?” he persisted.

  Simone’s face flashed before me. “Actually…um…”

  “Were…wolves?” he added tentatively.

  My eyes widened to saucers as recognition sparked in my head, and for the first time in all this craziness, I understood…and I was afraid. I fought against his hold, but it was fruitless. I might as well have been trying to shift a boulder.

  He held me tighter. “Sophie, stop struggling. It’s not what you think.”

  I relaxed a little. “So, you’re not a werewolf?”

  “Well, yes, I am, but there’s no need to be frightened.”

  “Really? So, you tell me that you’re a man-eating monster and I’m what? Supposed to melt into your arms?”

  “Of course not. But it feels right to tell you. I can’t explain why.” He eased his hold a little and brushed my hair away from my shoulder. “I promise I’ll never hurt you, but you have to promise to be part of my world.”

  “What for? Why me? I haven’t asked for your attention. I didn’t come all the way down here for this. I’m just a small-town girl, trying to build herself a future. I’m nothing like you. I wouldn’t fit in. And I’m not a murderer.”

  He laughed. “Neither am I…yet. But you never know what’s out there,” he teased, loosening his grip enough for me to wriggle free and head for the kitchen.

  I steadied myself on the sink, poured a glass of water, and took a deep gulp. The icy liquid did its job, dampening my temper, my nerves, and my ardour.

  Sebastian watched me. “You like to explore.” It was a statement, not a question. “It’s natural to be curious.”

  “Excuse me?” Having no idea what he was on about, I inched past him to the sofa.

  “I saw you, you know. At my place, both times,” he said, following me.

  I knew it. I’d known someone was watching me. How embarrassing.

  “You’re drawn there, aren’t you? The old place has that effect on certain people who feel its secrets.” Sebastian made himself at home in the nearby chair, removing his tie and loosening his upper shirt buttons. The exposure of his skin made me feel hot all over again. I bit my lip and took another sip of water. He crossed his legs in a manly fashion, and my eyes flicked to his crotch. He undoubtedly had the right parts for a man. I let out a small gasp, quickly averting my eyes in the lame hope that he hadn’t noticed. Too late.

  A wry smile grew on his face, and he chuckled silently. “Do I make you nervous?”

  God, yes.

  I shot him a dagger look, and what actually came out of my mouth was, “I have a werewolf sitting in my living room. What do you think?”

  He came to kneel on the floor in front of me and placed his hands on my knees. “It’s not my intention.” I flinched and froze. “Please don’t be frightened. I’ve told you, there’s no need.”

  My mind whirled with questions my curiosity longed to ask, and I struggled to find my voice as his touch practically froze it in my throat. “This isn’t a joke, is it? You’re really a werewolf.”

  “I am.”

  “W-were you bitten?”

  “No. I was born this way. Our family has been for generations.”

  “Oh. Do you…change at the full moon?”

  “In the beginning, yes. For the first few years, the moon’s effect is unpredictable. We feel its call, and we have to learn to control it. Then, with time, we are able to resist it and turn at will.” He laughed at my contorted face. “Don’t worry, we take precautions.”

  “Can you do that? Change at will?”

  “I’m gaining more control every day.”

  “Hmm. Are you immortal?”

  He smiled. “No. But age alone cannot kill us; neither can any human condition or weapon. Our composition is unique, and after maturity, we acquire powers and abilities beyond those of mortal men, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have enemies. We do, although I pray you never have to meet them.”

  As he talked, his thumbs traced slow spirals up my legs, creating newly discovered sensations, and upon reaching the material that hugged my upper thighs, Sebastian eased it higher and bent his head to brush his lips against my softest skin. I sucked in a breath. I didn’t want the feeling to disappear. My body ached for more, but faint footsteps and the sound of the door opening, intruded on the moment.

  “Oh…um…sorry, Soph. Back to the pub, Justin,” Beth said, pushing him back through the door.

  “No. Stay. Please. It’s okay. We’re leaving,” I heard Sebastian say.

  “We are?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Yes. Grab a coat. I’m taking you to my place.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was climbing the stairway to Sebastian’s room. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone, should have protested, made an excuse not to go, got rid of him. I’d only known him for two months, and I had no idea what he was capable of. He’d just confessed to being a monster. He could have had a million reasons to take me to his home: to seduce me, rape me, or rip me to pieces to feed to his family! Yet my curiosity and desire for answers had won over my common sense, and for some reason I trusted him.

  ***

  After he spent a couple of hours educating me on the history of his family, Sebastian and I were sitting on his bed, surrounded by books, and I felt oddly at ease. I’d listened intently as he told me about an island three miles off the coast of Abertreath, where an ancient tribe had lived in an intricate labyrinth of caves and tunnels, disliking the daylight and worshipping the moon. The island had sunk in an earthquake two thousand years ago. Many of the tribe had perished, but some had dug their way to the mainland and started new lives above ground. Others remained underground and still, unknown to humans, occupied those very tunnels to this day. With passing generations, the two factions had evolved. The group living above ground integrated into human society, desiring a peaceful existence, whilst those remaining below grew more feral, living off the land and occasionally each other.

  Sebastian had explained how the mine accident had been no accident. The miners had dug too deeply and hit a feral lair. They had been dragged away and eaten. Dynamite had been used to seal the lair, and the mine was now closed to prevent further occurrences.

  Sebastian’s family had descended from those who chose to live above ground—the change being their penance.

  I studied a line drawing in one of the books. “Is this what you turn into?”

  “Not the prettiest, I know.”

  The creature in the book was standing on its hind legs, had talon-like claws and drool dripping from its terrifying teeth. The only sign that it had ever been human was its manly chest. “I was hoping for a cute ball of fluff.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “I wouldn’t like to come face-to-face with that.”

  “Don’t worry. I told you I’d never hurt you. I imprison myself until the effects of the full moon pass, and it’s slowly losing its grip on me and allowing my wolf more conscious thought.” He paused to stroke my face. “Each individual finds their own way to keep our secret and hide it from society. Since we came to live here, Connor and I have been dropping down tester shafts in the mine.”

  “Connor’s one too?”

  “He is my cousin.”

&nbs
p; “And Jimmy?”

  Sebastian nodded.

  Even though Sebastian had only scratched the surface, I struggled to take everything in. It was a lot to digest…and believe. He didn’t need to swear me to secrecy. Who would I tell? I knew that if I said anything to Beth, she would think that I’d finally flipped and send the white coats after me. I just prayed that what Sebastian had said was true, and that Beth wasn’t in danger.

  Sebastian snapped the book shut. “You must be hungry by now.”

  “A little. What time is it?”

  “Nearly five,” he said, then got up and walked to the window.

  “Really? That means I’ve been here for over four hours. Beth will be wondering where I am.”

  “Then you’d better call her. You won’t be going home tonight,” he said so assuredly it made my anger bubble.

  “Look, just because I came here and listened to your stories, that doesn’t mean you have the right to keep me here and try to seduce me, or whatever it was you had planned. If you won’t drive me home, I’ll walk,” I said, getting up and snatching my jacket from the bed.

  Sebastian laughed. “Well, good luck with that one,” he said, grabbing hold of my shoulders and swinging me round to look out of the window.

  A thick white carpet of freshly fallen snow had all but obliterated the landscape as far as the eye could see. My eyes travelled down past my flimsy skirt to my inadequate shoes and back to the picture postcard hills, and I knew he was right. His grip lessened as he felt my shoulders relax in resignation.

  “Okay. Food would be nice,” I sighed.

  “Hmm. Food might be difficult now. We usually order in. The kitchen’s not up to much.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I mumbled.

  A puzzled look crossed his face, but he didn’t comment. “I’ll tell you what: Tamar’s probably got some snacks we can pillage, although she is a little possessive with her food,” he said, opening the door.

  “Tamar?” I asked, following him.

  “My sister. Um…she’s…well, you’ll see.”

  We headed down the corridor, lit only by the fading daylight, passing centuries of accumulated artefacts and cluttered walls full of the ever-abundant taxidermy.

  Sebastian caught me looking. “I don’t like them either. They scared me as a child. I’m having the old place renovated slowly, and Grandmother says I can do whatever I like with everything when she’s gone, but for some reason she hangs on to certain things, and she’s fond of these, so until she goes, they stay.”

  “Does the house not pass to your father?”

  “No. He’s happy with his place in Carleigh. He doesn’t like to come here too often. Too many memories.”

  “James, then?”

  “Disinherited. This place holds a lot of responsibility. Jimmy doesn’t do responsibility. I think he’s secretly relieved.”

  We reached the final door at the very bottom of the corridor, and Sebastian gave it a quick tap. “Ladies? There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said, slowly pushing it open.

  I heard frantic rustling, and a rather cranky-sounding old lady’s voice quietly barked, “Quick, get my hair.”

  Sebastian poked his head around the door and beckoned me to follow him.

  The room felt cold, even though a crackling fire was burning invitingly in the iron grate. A clothes horse covered with washing stood to one side, with faint whispers of steam rising from the clothing’s surface. Even in the dim light, I could tell the room was enormous, four times the size of Sebastian’s room. It looked clean and tidy but felt very claustrophobic, due to every available surface being draped with frilly chintz material and lace doilies sitting under copious tacky ornaments.

  A fragile-looking woman in her twilight years with an all too obvious light-brown wig and a heavily painted face was sitting in an antique wooden wheelchair. She eased it forwards to greet us with a false smile.

  “Sebastian, darling. This is unprecedented.”

  “Grandmother, this is Sophie. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of her.”

  “I am?” she said.

  “She is?” I asked.

  Mrs Lovell offered her hand to me, like a queen requiring a subject’s kiss. It was cold, and her skin felt like tissue paper. I shook it nervously.

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said, clumsily bumping into the wheelchair. Something fell off the side with a clunk, and I heard the old lady tut as Sebastian rushed to pick up the wooden walking stick with a handle shaped like a shoe. He hooked it back over her chair.

  “It’s okay, Tamar. You can come out. Sophie knows all about us.”

  “She does?” asked Mrs Lovell with disdainful surprise.

  “Yeah, I’m giving her a crash course.”

  Mrs Lovell frowned.

  Out of the darkness, a candle flame fluttered to life, and a girl’s silhouette appeared in the amber glow. She picked up the candle and turned to face us. A momentary gasp of surprise escaped my lips, and I took a step back, stumbling into Sebastian’s arms.

  “Sorry. I should have warned you, I suppose. Something went wrong with Tamar’s change, leaving her stuck in this half-human, half-werewolf state. You’re the first non-family member she’s met since it happened.”

  Without meaning to, I stared at the poor girl, whose beauty could still be identified underneath the excess facial hair, pointed ears and sharpened teeth. She inched closer, and I took a step forward to get a better look, but she recoiled from my gaze and retreated.

  “You know, with modern techniques, plastic surgery, laser hair removal—I’m sure something could be done for her,” I mumbled into my shoulder.

  “Maybe, but she’s too scared to leave the house. She thinks someone would capture her and take her away for experimentation.” Sebastian approached Tamar slowly. “Sis, could you spare a couple of cans of pop and something to eat, please?”

  A low, throaty growl emitted from the girl, and she stared at him.

  “I’ll bring you something pretty back from town,” he teased. Her face seemed to soften slightly, and she eyed him speculatively. “That’s right. You have a think. Anything you want in exchange for something to eat.”

  Tamar thought about it for a minute and faded into the shadows, only to reappear moments later, her arms laden with goodies.

  “Good girl. Thank you,” Sebastian said, taking her offerings.

  Then, passing his now lightly snoring grandmother, we headed back to his room.

  “Tamar doesn’t talk much,” I said.

  Sebastian closed the door behind us. “No, not much.”

  “So, who does the shopping?” I asked, accepting a can and parking myself on the rug in front of the fire.

  “Believe it or not, Tamar’s a whiz with the Internet. She gets everything delivered.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. She may act childlike, but that’s just shyness. She’s super intelligent, loves everything about computers, and even has a job designing programs. She submits the jobs online and never has to meet anyone. It’s ideal.”

  Sebastian tugged on the ring pull of his can, and it hissed open, spraying Coke on my leg. He reached over to wipe it off, but I instinctively shied away from his touch and dried it myself.

  Watching him balance another log on the weakening embers while huge, soft flakes of snow padded against the windowpane and melted as they slithered down, the full picture of my predicament hit me. I was spending the night with a boy—in his room. All the other stuff paled into insignificance at this thought, and my nerves took hold again.

  Leaping flames claimed the log, and it spat out bright sparks onto the hearth.

  “Sophie? What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked, studying my face.

  “I was thinking. I’m staying here because I don’t really have a choice, but I don’t want you getting the idea that it’s an open invitation. What are we going to do about the sleeping arrangements?”

  He smiled. “Well, unless you fancy sleeping wi
th the spiders in a spare room, or dossing in Connor’s pit—and believe me, it is; he’s a slob—or bunking down with Granny dearest, then I guess you’re stuck with my bed.”

  Unbelievable. “Were you not listening?”

  “Sure. No expectations. I’ve been a gentleman so far, haven’t I?”

  Okay. He had a point.

  We carried on talking well into the evening, and even though I clearly stated that my life was totally uninteresting, Sebastian insisted upon hearing about my childhood and comparing it to his. Two more dissimilar children would have been difficult to find, and after a few more hours, I stifled a yawn.

  “Let’s call it a night. There should be a new toothbrush in the cupboard under the sink,” Sebastian said, poking at the fire to dampen it down for the evening.

  I visited the bathroom, and when I returned to the bedroom, I noticed that he’d turned down the bed already. I stood nervously alternating looks between it and Sebastian.

  He laughed. “The second drawer down has T-shirts in it; pick one for a nightdress while I go wash up.”

  I hurriedly undressed, grabbed the first T-shirt to hand, and yanked it over my head. It was a sleeveless, V-necked basketball shirt, white with red writing. It looked like a dress on me and didn’t exactly keep the chill out, but it would have to do. The bathroom door handle was turning, and I didn’t have time to change. I quickly jumped into bed and slid between the cold, crisp sheets, then wrapped them tightly around my neck.

  “Jesus, Sophie,” Sebastian said, appearing through the doorway wearing only his boxer shorts. “Could you possibly have covered any more flesh?”

  “It’s cold,” I snapped, trying unsuccessfully to keep my eyes on his face. The knot twisted my stomach again as I wondered why he was taking so long to get into bed.

  Sebastian moved towards me; rippling muscles under silken skin mesmerised me, and he seemed to be enjoying my gaze. He slid in beside me and lightly stroked my arm. “I’m sure I could warm you up,” he said, teasing me.

  “Um, no. You promised to be good,” I said, removing his hand and then turning over to face the wall.

 

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