All Hallows' Moon

by Reine, SM

  “I’ll do all the explaining this time, and you’ll keep your nasty little mouth shut,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Your brother’s ripping himself apart because that thing tore his shoulder open, so I don’t care how you’ve rationalized all this. The only relationship you’re going to have with that werewolf from here on out is at the end of a gun. If you got a problem with that, then—then—” Eleanor’s fists shook. “Well, I don’t give half a damn if you’ve got a problem with it, boy.”

  “You can’t make me stay,’ Seth said.

  Eleanor drew her pistol from the small of her back, and his eyes went wide. She pressed it into his sternum.

  “I can’t?”

  “Mom, what are you—?”

  “Sit down.”

  The gun made him awfully obedient. Seth lowered himself to the floor of the trailer. She grabbed the ropes without dropping her aim. These were the only ones she had left—that werewolf had destroyed the other ones. They might not have been strong enough for a monster, but they would be strong enough for her so-called son.

  “Don’t do this,” he said, eyes round. “Mom. Please.”

  “I can’t trust you anymore.” She gave a harsh laugh. “Jim would be so disappointed.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Eleanor didn’t care what he had to say anymore.

  She whipped the gun across his face, and he collapsed.

  Seventeen

  All Hallows

  Seth didn’t come back to Rylie’s house that night, and he wasn’t at school when she arrived the next morning. She stood under the tree and watched for the motorcycle until the second bell rang.

  Something had happened. Something was wrong.

  Even worse, she could feel the moon even though the sun had just risen for the day. The wolf was already stirring inside of her. Her skin prickled as though it was covered in fur, and she had to run her hands down her skin to make sure she was still human.

  “Seth,” she whispered. “Where are you?”

  The only response was the rustling of dry leaves as they blew past on the sidewalk.

  Rylie found her desk in homeroom by instinct instead of eyesight. It was the day the school celebrated Halloween, so most of the kids were wearing costumes. Their faces were covered in leering death masks and cloaks, and every other mouth was fanged. They laughed shrilly and shrieked instead of speaking. The noise drove into her skull like steel spikes.

  The teacher didn’t try to make them read. He passed out candy and let everyone sit on their desks talking. Rylie pulled out her cell phone and watched the screen, hoping Seth would call her.

  Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe he’d been sidetracked by something else.

  But her phone stayed silent.

  Her second class was decorated with paper skeletons and red streamers. They watched a movie about witches while eating popcorn balls, but Rylie refused to take hers. Corn sounded disgusting. She craved something bloody and squirming.

  Kathleen and Rylie were scheduled to present their paper in third period.

  “Did you write it?” she whispered when Rylie sat next to her. Kathleen was dressed like a fairy with wings made of filmy cloth, but the short skirt made her look like a dumpy stripper.

  Rylie tried to focus on her partner’s lips, but she couldn’t make sense of the words. “Write what?”

  “Oh no,” Kathleen said. “You didn’t write it. Oh no. We’re so screwed.” She turned into a flurry of motion, opening her binder and throwing around papers. Hysterics made her sweat smell like adrenaline.

  Rylie savored the scent.

  Panicked prey were the best. They never saw the end coming.

  There was another smell, too, beyond the wafting odor of panic, buttered popcorn, and candy corn. Something… bloody.

  Rylie stood up, ignoring Ms. Reedy as she repeated her name. She wandered into the hall. It was empty during class, but streamers fluttered in the breeze made by the heater.

  Meat. Rylie smelled meat.

  She stepped out the doors to the quad and her foot connected with something soft. It was a package wrapped in butcher’s paper. Rylie knelt to untie it, and her mouth watered at the sight of a raw cut of lamb.

  There was a note beside it in unfamiliar handwriting: Your last meal.

  Rylie clutched the paper as she searched the quad with her eyes. Somehow, she knew it was Eleanor’s handwriting. She was watching.

  “What is that?”

  She spun. Kathleen stood behind her with her nose wrinkled. Her mouth fell open when she saw Rylie’s bloody hands.

  Frightened prey. Delicious.

  Rylie shut her eyes so she didn’t have to see the pulse throbbing in Kathleen’s throat. “Go away.”

  “Ms. Reedy says you need to come back to class.”

  “Get out of here. Go!”

  Kathleen ran into the classroom. Rylie’s stomach growled.

  She ran her fingers over the cut of lamb, digging her fingernails into it. She was so hungry. The human side of her was shrieking with alarm—Eleanor left it, don’t eat that, it’s a trap! —but it was a small voice fading into the background.

  She shouldn’t eat a piece of meat she found on the ground. It was insane. It was animal.

  It was… irresistible.

  Rylie lifted the meat to her mouth and sank her teeth into it.

  She jerked back and dropped the lamb. It made a splat against the cement. Rylie spat, trying to clear her mouth of the sour tang that filled her mouth.

  Silver. Eleanor injected the meat with silver.

  She heard footsteps approaching and realized she would have blood all over her face. She couldn’t let anyone see her. Rylie jumped over the package, forcing herself to walk away from the sweet smell of food, and hurried to the bathroom.

  Scrubbing her hands and face, she watched the lamb’s blood circle the drain.

  Your last meal.

  It hadn’t been a serious attempt to kill her… yet. It was a message.

  Eleanor was coming for her.

  The bathroom door opened, and Dean Black entered holding the juicy cut of lamb away from her body like it was a bomb. Rylie checked her reflection to make sure she was clean before straightening.

  “What is this?” the dean asked.

  Rylie peered over the butcher’s paper like she hadn’t seen the package before. It wasn’t hard to make herself look sickened. Now that she had picked up the taste of silver, she could smell it in the back of her throat.

  “Gross. Where did you find that?”

  “Don’t play games with me. I saw you putting this outside your classroom. Is it some kind of sick Halloween prank?”

  “I didn’t put it there,” Rylie said.

  “You need to come to the office with me, Miss Gresham.”

  She recoiled. “Why? I told you I didn’t put it there!”

  “I’ve heard that a thousand times before. Scoot. We’re going to call your guardian.”

  The wolf bristled. Who did this woman think she was, trying to push her around? Nobody could tell Rylie what to do.

  She stalked over to the dean and slapped the lamb out of her hands. It splattered all over the floor. The dean shrieked and jumped back, but it was too late. Blood splashed on her pumps.

  Dean Block stared at it numbly, and Rylie took the opportunity to push past her toward the door.

  The dean caught her arm. “I don’t think so. You’ve gone too far this time. You’re—”

  Rylie’s hand clamped down on Dean Block’s wrist, and she pinned her against the wall without any effort. The older woman struggled. She could barely move in the iron grip of the wolf.

  “I said I didn’t do it,” Rylie growled. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Got it?”

  She didn’t realize how hard she had been holding onto the dean until she let go and the woman sprawled across the floor. Dean Block’s hand landed on the lamb and slipped. Her head bounced against the linoleum.

  The shout of surpris
e went right to Rylie’s stomach. Her heart pounded. She felt dizzy.

  There was blood everywhere. It smelled amazing.

  Humans were even better than lamb.

  “No,” Rylie whispered.

  She fled the bathroom before Dean Block could collect herself. When she hit the quad, she kept running.

  Rylie was going to get in trouble this time. A lot of trouble. Throwing the book had been one thing, but pushing the dean meant a call to the police. She couldn’t get taken into custody. She would transform and kill everyone.

  She ran through town blindly, propelled by the wolf’s hunger. The smell of blood had driven her to the edge of starvation. She needed to eat something. Anything.

  The sun was high in the sky, burning through her body even though the air was chilly. Running was hard on two legs. She wanted to drop to all fours and flee into the forest. The wolf longed for freezing rivers and pine trees, for cold stone and warm earth.

  But most of all, she longed to sink her teeth into something hot and alive.

  She ran past a house with a dog in the front yard. It leaped at her, barking wildly.

  Rylie stopped dead on the sidewalk.

  It was a little thing with short yellow fur. A Chihuahua, she thought, even though she didn’t know much about dogs. It bared its teeth and barked like it was ten times bigger.

  She reached over the fence and grabbed it by the neck. Small jaws snapped at her as it thrashed like a tiny, furious demon.

  No. This is wrong…

  Her human side was growing fainter every second.

  Giving it a hard shake made the dog yelp. She could snap its neck so easily and tear into its soft belly. She could—

  “Hey! Get your hands off my dog!”

  A fat woman burst through the front door of the house, pulling her pants up as she rushed down the sidewalk. The dog twisted and sunk its teeth into Rylie’s wrist. Shocked, she dropped it to the ground.

  “What are you doing, you sick freak? Get away from my house!” The woman ripped a lawn decoration out of her yard and brandished the spiked end at her. “I’ll call the police!” She shoved the gate open, letting the Chihuahua dart into the yard again.

  Rylie ducked beneath the swinging spike, and then she shoved.

  The huge woman flew through the air. Her back crashed into the white picket fence. She screamed and screamed and screamed.

  So hungry.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. Someone must have called for help.

  The noise scared Rylie enough that she broke into a run again, and this time, Rylie didn’t let herself stop for anything.

  The world was a blur of sound and scent and sirens. Cars blew past her. She ran between two houses and climbed a fence into a farm. Stalks of corn ripped at her as she blasted through the fields.

  When she reached the end of her aunt’s property, she let herself collapse. Her skin was going to rip itself off her body.

  She screamed and tore at her hair.

  Hungry.

  Her stomach turned inside out. The wolf was consuming her. She could feel its teeth scraping against her ribs and its claws digging into her gut.

  Something was moving in the field.

  Goats.

  Her gaze sharpened on them. The flock pressed themselves into a corner, bleating pathetically.

  It was too much. She couldn’t control herself anymore.

  Rylie lunged.

  The flock scattered, but she was faster than they were, and her clawed hands fell upon a small goat near the back. She pinned it to the earth and buried her teeth in its throat.

  Hot blood exploded across her tongue. It spurted with every beat of the goat’s slowing heart. Its helpless cries became strangled as little hooves kicked at the air. The musky fur tasted like dirt, but the meat was so juicy on her tongue.

  Ripping her head away, she grabbed the head of the goat and twisted. It snapped. Then it didn’t make noise at all.

  Rylie dug in. It was like the first breath of air after being drowned in the ocean. The relief of having food—real food—made her relax instantly. Every bite was more delicious than the last.

  When she threw the goat aside, it didn’t look like an animal anymore.

  And she was still hungry.

  The wolf attacked the goats one after another. She ripped out their throats and feasted on their flesh. It was never enough. The more she devoured, the hungrier she became.

  When she finished tearing into her fifth goat, Rylie let its carcass fall and sat back on her haunches. She licked her fingers, savoring the tastes lingering on her tongue.

  The sun was dropping. The moon’s pull was rising.

  But Rylie was already gone.

  Footsteps.

  “My son thinks you’re different,” said a woman’s voice. “If only he were here to see how wrong he is.”

  The wolf spun too late.

  Eleanor aimed a gun at her. She tried to remember human words so she could protest, but she didn’t get a chance.

  The pistol fired with a thunderous crack.

  Eighteen

  The Choice

  “Wake up. I’ve got a present for you.”

  Sleep peeled away from Seth slowly. It was like trying to pull himself out of a pit of quicksand. But when he saw his mother’s face over his, with a knife in her hand, he came to his senses with a shock.

  He tried to jerk away from her, but there was nowhere to go. She had tied his wrists and ankles behind his back. His limbs were completely numb.

  Seth was in the same place he had spent the night—the storage space beneath their mobile home. He spent all day struggling to get free by rubbing the ropes against the edge of a wooden post, but he hadn’t gotten anywhere. Spiders had been crawling on him for hours.

  Somehow, the worst part wasn’t being hogtied by Eleanor and shoved under the dark floor of a trailer. It wasn’t having a wolf spider spend half the night on his cheek, either. The worst part was imagining what his mom might do to Rylie while he was bound.

  “Mom,” he growled. It came out sounding like an insult.

  She rolled him over and sliced the ropes off his wrists. Sensation began returning with electric jolts, and he groaned, rubbing at his arms.

  “Can you move?” she asked. He nodded. It was only a half-truth. When he tried to wiggle his toes, tingling pain shot through his whole body. But admitting he would be slow to move seemed like a terrible idea when his mother had a silver knife the length of his forearm. “Good. I have something to show you.”

  She crept out of the crawlspace, and Seth followed. “I thought I was in trouble.”

  “Oh, you are. But you’ve got a chance to make it better.”

  Night had fallen again. Seth felt total disorientation. It had been night when his mom threw him beneath the trailer, but even though he lost track of the time, he was sure it must have been at least a day since their confrontation. It couldn’t be the same night, could it?

  “What time is it?” he asked

  “Just after sunset.”

  He heard a thumping from the bedroom. “What is that?”

  “Abel. He’s bad tonight,” she said.

  “Is he going to change?”

  “No, but he hurts like hell. The moon’s really beating him tonight.” Eleanor’s lip curled. “You have that thing to thank for it.” Seth moved for the door to check on him, but her fingers bit into his shoulder. “We can’t do anything for him. We’ve got something else to do tonight.”

  She pulled him outside. The moon filled the sky. He realized with a shudder that Rylie must have changed. Had she gotten somewhere safe for the transformation?

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “You’ll see. Get in the car.”

  They got into the Chevelle. It looked like half of their guns had been put in the backseat.

  “I’m not going to hunt tonight,” he said as Eleanor drove into the night.

  “You won’t have to.”

 
; He wasn’t surprised when they pulled up to the Gresham ranch and parked behind the barn. Seth jumped out of the car, and he heard his mom’s footsteps behind him as he moved for the house.

  A silver shape emerged in the darkness. It was hard to make out at first, but as he got closer, Seth realized it was a cage. The bars were made of silver-laced iron. They used it to trap werewolves.

  And there was a huge, golden-furred form inside it.

  “Rylie!” he shouted, but Eleanor moved in his way.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said, clenching his shirt in her fist. “I gave birth to you, Seth. I raised you. Your daddy and I trained you to be a warrior for God against evil. Your affair with this… thing… is treason against your own blood.”

  He couldn’t tear his eyes from Rylie. She thrashed against the bars. Every time she touched the iron, she jerked back again with a shrill cry. Her entire body seized. Eleanor had scattered wolfsbane across the ground, too, so there was nowhere safe for her to go.

  Blood bubbled out of a bullet wound on her shoulder. Eleanor had already shot her.

  Rylie would tear herself apart if she wasn’t poisoned first.

  “You’re torturing her,” Seth said.

  “I saved her for you.”

  Cold shocked through him. “What?”

  Eleanor handed one of the rifles to him. The metal was cold and heavy in his hands.

  “This thing tried to kill her. She would kill you if she had the chance. You’re going to shoot her and prove you’re not as much of a waste as I think you are.”

  Rylie gave a long, agonized howl.

  Seth’s heart ached for her. Death would have been a mercy. Even if she survived, she would be in misery for weeks. The silver poisoning would be severe.

  He stepped forward. Eleanor didn’t stop him.

  The wolf whined as he pointed the muzzle of his rifle through the bars.

  “Do it already, Seth,” she snapped. “I will if you won’t.”

  He could save her from the pain.

  Rylie grew weaker. She jumped at the bars one last time, rattling the entire cage, and then she collapsed. Her flesh sizzled. The pain must have been intense, but she didn’t twitch.