The Uprising (Moonlight Wolves Book 3)

by Jasmine B. Waters

  “Honey!” Mom yelled. “Steven’s here!”

  Despite my anxiety, I couldn’t help but feel at least a little bit of excitement. The last party I’d gone to had been that disastrous affair that Monica had thrown, right before all of the trouble started. Something told me that tonight wouldn’t be anything like that.

  Honestly, I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  Steven grinned when he saw me.

  “You look awesome,” Steven said. “Ready?”

  I nodded. As we walked out to the car, things felt surprisingly…normal between us. Steven opened the door for me and I scooted inside, tucking my legs over the books on the floorboards.

  “So, your mom is okay with this?” I asked, running my hand over the door handle. “She didn’t like, flip out that you wanted to go to a party? With me?”

  “My mom is fine,” Steven said. He twisted the key in the ignition and slowly backed down the driveway, putting his hand on my shoulder as he looked through the back window. “How are you?”

  I shrugged. “It felt weird to go back to school,” I said slowly. “I think Monica is mad.”

  “She’s probably jealous,” Steven said nonchalantly. His comment bothered me more than it should have.

  “Maybe,” I said, not wanting to get into a fight. “So…this is at Greg’s house?”

  Steven laughed. “His name is Gary,” he said. “But yeah – his parents went on vacation as soon as the curfew was lifted.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Must be nice.”

  “He has an awesome place,” Steven said. He looked at me and I saw the wild lust flash in his eyes. “And I’m happy to be with you,” he added in a husky voice that made me uncomfortable.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Um, thanks for picking me up. My mom says I have to be home before two. Is that okay?”

  “Sure,” Steven said. He pulled onto the two-line highway and sped up, flying over the black pavement.

  I shifted uncomfortably, tugging the seat belt away from my neck as he drove. We lapsed into silence, but it didn’t feel natural. Maybe it’s because things are still so new that we’re getting used to each other, I thought, gnawing at my lip. Maybe it’ll be easier with other people around.

  But the party wasn’t anything like Monica’s had been. Greg -- er, Gary – had a huge house, or rather, his parents did. It wasn’t like the Boers’ home, either – it looked like every room had been decorated by some famous designer from Boston.

  Inside, it was nearly impossible to hear anything. Steven held my hand and stuck close to my side as we wove through the crowd. In the living room, someone had put on loud music and the whole room seemed to be shaking. The floor was filled with kids jumping up and down and dancing, spilling beer from red plastic cups.

  “Want a drink?” Steven practically had to yell in my ear.

  “Yeah!” I yelled back. “I’ll stay here!”

  Steven said something I couldn’t understand, but he smiled before he turned and pushed his way into the kitchen. I recognized all of the popular kids from school, feeling a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t invited Monica. She wouldn’t have had fun, I thought, trying to justify the decision to myself. This isn’t her scene at all.

  The music changed and I stumbled as a huge wave of kids pushed past me, storming into the room and cheering. I rolled my eyes – a Journey song was blasting from the huge sound system. We weren’t even alive when this stupid song came out, I thought, pushing my way past a circle of girls dancing, holding hands and shaking their butts. I almost laughed as I thought about what Monica would say, she’d probably call them sheep or lemmings or something.

  “Here!” Steven shouted, so loudly that I jumped. He pushed a red cup into my hand. “I know you hate beer, so I got you some of the punch!”

  I held the cup to my nose and sniffed cautiously. “Oh my god,” I mumbled. “What is this? Paint thinner?”

  Steven laughed. “I love your sense of humor!” He shouted. “Come on, let’s dance! I love this song.”

  Of course you do, I thought as I tilted the cup back and drank. Whatever was inside – some kind of sticky pink liquid that burned my tongue and throat. I sputtered and coughed, choking the last few sips down like it was some of Ligeia’s poison.

  Steven gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s rough,” he said loudly. “Want another?”

  I stepped shakily to the side. “Sure!” I yelled.

  Anything was better than dancing to Journey.

  Four cups of that pink toxic waste later and I was feeling strange. My skin felt hot and oily and I kept reaching up to wipe my forehead on my sleeve. Outside it was freezing cold, but inside Gary’s house, it was so hot that I could barely stay awake.

  Steven and I danced, hopping and jumping around, to most of the music. Whenever a slow song came on, Steven would try to pull me close but I’d invariably shy away. It wasn’t just that I didn’t feel like having his dick pressed into my butt, everyone was staring at us. Even the girls who swung by in the arms of other guys from school couldn’t keep from giving my dirty looks.

  “Everyone hates me,” I said loudly in Steven’s ear. He winced and pulled away. “Can I have another drink?”

  “Sure.” Steven took my hand and led me out of the living room. Thankfully, it was much cooler in the rest of the house. The kitchen was messy – a huge table was covered with mostly-empty tubs of hummus and ranch dressing, while dehydrated carrot slices grew less appealing by the second. I paused and grabbed a handful of sour cream chips, shoving them into my mouth and chewing noisily.

  “God, I’m starving,” I said, handing Steven my cup and scooping more chips onto a plastic plate. “Can you get me a drink?”

  Steven beamed. “So you’re having fun?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “I am.” It wasn’t exactly a lie – although the way my chest felt hot and watery probably wasn’t a good sign. I’d never been drunk before, only tipsy, at Monica’s party. But this was different. I felt like a new Elizabeth, a confident Elizabeth who didn’t let anything bother her.

  A rush of people streamed by and I almost fell to the side as one of them bumped into my hip. I grabbed the back of a chair, only barely managing to stay upright.

  Steven rushed to my side, handing me a drink. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, much more enthusiastically than necessary. “Yeah!” Tilting my head back, I poured the cup down my throat. I was so used to it by now that the stuff didn’t even burn – it was actually starting to taste kind of good. Wiping my brow again, I burst out laughing.

  “What’s funny?” Steven crinkled his brow.

  “Nothing!” Suddenly, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I couldn’t explain it, but somehow, the events of the past few months no longer mattered. All that mattered was that wild, confident feeling in my chest, like nothing could ever hurt me again.

  “Come dance,” Steven said. He tugged me towards the living room and I groaned, dragging my feet.

  “It’s too hot in there,” I whined. “Wanna go outside?”

  “Seriously?” Steven laughed. “Elizabeth, it’s freezing out there. The last thing I need is you getting sick.”

  “Come on,” I whined. “Just for a minute.”

  As I tugged Steven down the hall, the wild and happy feeling started to fade. My stomach started to hurt and I swallowed, wiping my hands on my thighs.

  “Hold on a sec,” I said, pulling free of Steven’s grip. “I need to stay here a moment.”

  Steven brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Elizabeth? You okay? You look sick,” he added, putting a hand to my forehead. I winced. Suddenly, my head was aching, almost like it was filled with concrete.

  “What time is it,” I slurred, stepping forward. My ankle rolled under my weight and I fell to the ground, nearly colliding with the wooden floor. Thankfully Steven grabbed me by the arms and pulled me upright.

  “I think you overdid it a little,” Steven said. “Come on
, this way.”

  My vision turned blurry and shaky as Steven took me down a hall. It wasn’t straight like the hall before, it was twisting and curving and filled with sudden sharp turns. Bumping into the wall, I burst out laughing as I bounced off the white surface and ping-ponged back towards Steven’s arms.

  “This way,” Steven repeated. He pulled me into a small, brightly-lit room.

  I burst out laughing. “I don’t need to pee,” I said. But as soon as I saw the toilet, my stomach lurched and I dropped to my knees. I barely had time to push the lid up as a hot streaming torrent of vomit gushed from my mouth. Steven pushed my hair from my face, holding it in a gentle knot behind my neck.

  I threw up until I was gagging. Tears came to my eyes and by the time I was done, I was sniffling and coughing. Steven reached over with a folded wad of toilet paper and wiped my lips and chin.

  He smiled. “Same thing happened to me at a basketball party a couple of years ago,” Steven said. “Only I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.”

  I smiled weakly. “Thanks…” I flushed, sniffling and climbing to my feet on unsteady legs. “I appreciate it.”

  Steven shrugged. “I try to be a good boyfriend,” he said. He made eye contact and I had to look away. “Elizabeth, I hope I make you happy.”

  I nodded. “You do,” I said softly. Now, more than ever, I added weakly in my head. I didn’t know why, but something about the tenderness with which Steven had taken care of me made me feel better, almost like we were a normal high-school couple.

  “Good,” Steven said. He got to his feet, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands. “You ready to go home?”

  I nodded. “Please,” I said softly. “I’d really appreciate that.”

  Steven and I didn’t talk much in the car, but this time, it felt like a comfortable silence. When he pulled up in front of my house, he parked and kept the engine running.

  “Want me to go inside with you?”

  I sniffed. “No,” I said. “I think I’m okay. I’m going to take some ibuprofen and lie down.”

  Steven nodded. “Good plan,” he said. “I have fun tonight. I love you,” he added, leaning in to kiss me. I turned my head to the side – even though I’d rinsed with mouthwash, I still smelled like vomit – and he got a mouthful of hair.

  “Sorry,” I said, pushing the door open and climbing out on unsteady legs. “I’ll see you later, Steven.”

  “Bye,” Steven called. I slammed the door shut and hurried up the driveway and into my silent house. For a moment, I almost laughed – it was such a perfect imitation of the time Steven and I had snuck out together before the curfew was lifted.

  Thankfully, Mom and Dad weren’t awake. I crept up the stairs and took another shower, then got into pajamas and climbed into bed. Just as I was about to turn out the light, my cell phone started buzzing wildly on my nightstand.

  God, what does he want now, I thought, groaning as I pictured Steven eagerly anticipating my answer.

  Except it wasn’t Steven’s name on the caller ID.

  It was David’s.

  I blinked. Was Monica calling? I wanted to believe that, but somehow, I had a feeling that Monica had nothing to do with it. My palm itched as I reached for the phone, holding it in my fingers.

  Just seeing David’s name was enough to erase the mildly pleasant thoughts of Steven from my mind. The brief affection that I’d felt for him suddenly vanished and I was left wanting to speak to David, to hear his voice.

  To know if Monica’s magic was still working.

  But I couldn’t. I had to be a good friend to her – that was what I’d promised.

  With a heavy heart, I pressed “ignore,” then turned out my lamp and went to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Elizabeth

  Things were slowly going back to normal in Jaffrey, but not everything was quite there yet.

  After the searches and hunts for Andrea were called off, it was like she’d completely vanished from reality. I went by the D’Amicos’ house twice in the next week, scouring for evidence. I couldn’t believe that somehow, we’d bee powerful enough to make her completely vanish.

  That was when her church announced a memorial service.

  It wasn’t for Andrea, exactly – at least, her name was never mentioned. Instead, the pastor encouraged the town to come out and “heal together,” presumably from the trauma of losing Andrea.

  I wondered what Steven and his family would have to say about it.

  Friday night, the day before the service, I was walking home from school when Steven pulled up alongside me. He smiled and I felt something of that old crush coming back. I tried to smile, remembering how kind he’d been at the party earlier in the week. But I couldn’t stop thinking of David, even though I knew it was wrong.

  He’s not yours to think about, I said firmly to myself as I climbed in the passenger seat of Steven’s car. He’s Monica’s, and I need to be a friend. I need her to be happy, even if that means using her magic.

  “Are you going to that thing at the church?” I licked my lips, wondering if Steven remembered his sister at all.

  “I think so, I don’t know,” Steven said. “My parents used to be so into going to church…and now I don’t know, they don’t really care. So I guess.”

  “You should go,” I said quickly. “It might be good for you.”

  Steven cocked his head to the side and gave me an odd look. “Coming from you, that’s a little weird,” he said. “You never go to church.”

  She was your sister, I wanted to scream. I wanted to take Steven by the shoulders and shake him until his eyes rolled back in his head. Don’t you remember? How the hell could you forget your own family member?

  “Right,” I said quickly. “But I still think we should go.”

  Steven nodded. He gave me a dreamy look. “Something bad happened,” he said slowly. “I just can’t really remember it. But things were hard for a while, weren’t they?”

  Guilt hit me like a lightning bolt and I slumped against the seat. Part of me hated Monica for putting me in this position – was I really supposed to lie and pretend like Andrea had never existed?

  The other part of me was just confused, and a little sad for Steven. It was hard to think of someone forgetting their own sibling.

  It was even harder to know I’d watched my best friend stab said sibling in the chest.

  I shuddered.

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “Something really bad happened. But it’s almost over now.”

  Steven reached for my hand and twined his fingers with mine. “I didn’t know it was so important to you,” he said. “But of course we can go, if that’s what you want.”

  I nodded stiffly. “Yeah,” I said. “I’d like that.” Because this is my fault, I thought as Steven’s car pulled onto my street. And without me, this wouldn’t have happened.

  “So tomorrow, when should I pick you up?”

  I sighed. “Right before the service is fine,” I said.

  “Want dinner afterwards? There’s a new chicken place, they have duck fat fries.”

  “I don’t know.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t you think it’s kind of…I don’t know, wrong?”

  “What? What about going out with my girlfriend is wrong?”

  “Because we’d be coming from a memorial service for--,” I bit my lip. “I mean, memorial services are almost like funerals, right? Like, without the body?”

  Steven looked at me with wide eyes. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about this,” he said. “That’s nice of you, Elizabeth. For some reason, I never figured you to be the kind of girl who cared so much about her community.”

  It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. “It’s a recent development,” I said quietly. “I guess I surprise myself, too.”

  Steven squeezed my hand again. I could barely look him in the eye without wanting to puke.

  “Okay,” Steven said. He smiled. “I’ll pick you up at eleven tomorrow, okay?”


  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  Steven slowed to a stop in front of my parents’ house and I climbed out of the car, leaning back in to kiss him on the cheek. I couldn’t stop the guilt from wracking my body as I turned away and started up the drive. If I’d known things were going to turn out like this, I wondered if I’d ever have joined the coven in the first place.

  I felt guilty for everything. I felt guilty for not liking Steven as much as I should. I felt guilty for thinking of David, for dreaming about David, for wondering if Monica would keep him locked in a spell forever.

  But mostly, I felt guilty about Andrea. It wasn’t fair that she’d just vanished, as if she’d never walked upon this earth at all. And even if she did have an evil soul, the soul of an ancient witch, she didn’t deserve to not have a legacy.

  Thunder cracked overhead and I shuddered as I pushed my way into the foyer. Mom was in the kitchen and I darted up the stairs before she could ensnare me. My heart was thudding, and while I didn’t want to be alone, I couldn’t bear the idea of talking to anyone other than Monica.

  Once I was locked safely in my room, I sat on my bed and closed my eyes, leaning into the pillows and pulling a blanket over my hips. Oh, Monica, I thought as I shuddered with guilt. Why couldn’t you have just cursed me, instead?

  ---

  In the morning, I waited for Steven outside on the porch. It was a chill spring morning, but the fresh air felt good. No one else from my house was going to the memorial – I couldn’t even think about it without mentally placing Andrea’s name before ‘memorial.’

  When I saw Steven’s car, I leapt off the porch and ran over before he could stop. When he saw me, he smiled.

  I felt sick.

  “Hey,” Steven said. “How are you?”

  I shrugged. “Not great,” I admitted. “But maybe I’ll feel better after this.”

  Steven nodded. He reached over and squeezed my knee. “I’m sure you will.”

  The church was packed. By the time Steven and I got there, we could only find seats towards the back. I was relieved, but also saddened – did this mean that everyone else remembered Andrea, too? Or did everyone just have the same lingering sense of tragedy, like Steven?