Outcast (Moonlight Wolves Book 4)

by Jasmine B. Waters

  “Okay,” I said, swallowing. “I’ll be over in a little bit. I’m just going to shower and change.”

  Upstairs, I took a quick shower, then pulled on a light sweater and jeans. After a second thought, I traded the sweater for a tight-fitting Henley shirt that showed more of my body. I felt ridiculous – it was freezing outside – but I kept it on anyway.

  The walk to Steven’s was full of slush and ice, and I slipped multiple times, nearly falling. By the time I got there, I had my jacket unzipped, and I was carrying my hat – walking through the snow is hot work. Steven was standing on the porch, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

  “I made hot toddies,” Steven said. He grinned. “You want?” He held the steaming mug toward me, and I sniffed cautiously, making a face.

  “That smells terrible,” I said.

  Steven leaned in close and sniffed my neck. “You smell good, though,” he said. He grinned at me, and I blushed. For a moment, things felt almost normal again. “Come on,” Steven added. “Let’s go in.”

  It felt nice – and almost a little strange – to be alone in the D’Amicos house with Steven. Despite her lack of physical presence, Andrea lingered in every room. I shivered as Steven led me into the living room. He sat down in the middle of the couch, and after a moment, I sat next to him.

  My heart skipped a beat as Steven wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close.

  “I missed you,” Steven said. He nuzzled my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I really like you, Elizabeth.”

  I pushed all other thoughts out of my head as Steven lifted my chin with two fingers and brought my mouth to his. When our lips met, I tried to remember to breathe out my nose as Steven slipped his tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Steven guided me down on the couch.

  “Hey,” I whispered, “you have a bedroom?” I blushed hotly. “I feel kind of weird doing this in your living room.”

  Steven nipped at my neck, and I cried out. “Yeah,” he murmured, his hot breath tickling my skin. “But my room doesn’t have a TV.”

  I blushed. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re really interested in a movie right now,” I whispered huskily.

  Steven snickered. “You’re right,” he said. He slipped an arm under my back and the other under my knees, lifting me up with surprising strength. I cried out, thinking that he was going to drop me, but instead, he carried me up the stairs and into a room decorated in gray and blue. It smelled musky – like Steven – and I inhaled deeply.

  Steven dropped me gently on his twin-sized bed. Then he lay down next to me and wrapped an arm around my stomach, pulling me close.

  “I really like you,” Steven repeated. His blond hair was tousled, and his brown eyes seemed dark with sincerity.

  I bit my lip. “I like you, too,” I whispered.

  Steven kissed me again, more slowly this time. When my lips parted and I felt his tongue touch against mine, I melted in his arms. As Steven’s hands slipped under my shirt and pulled it over my head, I shivered and snuggled close to him. My body was desperate for Steven, but my mind was still playing a tug of war. I should do this, I thought, slipping my hands under Steven’s shirt and running them against his hot, smooth back. ‘Then I bet we’d finally be a couple. And I bet Andrea wouldn’t do this – she’s too much of a prude.’

  For a moment, thinking of Andrea killed the warm, fuzzy feeling in my lower belly. But then Steven crawled between my legs and started kissing my neck, moving his mouth down my body until his lips were brushing my stiff nipples through the lace cups of my bra.

  I moaned softly. Steven looked up at me with desire gleaming in his eyes.

  “You want to?”

  After a second, I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I want to.”

  ---

  Afterward, we lay narrowly in Steven’s bed, sweating and panting. I felt wet and sticky between the legs, and I grimaced, reaching down to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. But my fingers came away clear, and after a second’s hesitation, I wiped them on the blue sheets of Steven’s bed.

  “I hope you still like me,” Steven joked.

  Just as I was about to reply, I heard the sound of a car engine pulling close.

  “Shit!” Steven leapt out of bed, reaching for his boxers and jeans. “What the fuck? My parents are coming home!”

  Alarm bells sounded in my brain, and I jumped off the still-damp sheets, pulling my jeans and fumbling with the snap of my bra. When I was fully dressed, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I was still washing my face and fixing my hair when I heard the front door open and close.

  “Steven? We’re home!” Mrs. D’Amico called. “Andrea got sick at the doctor’s, so we decided to come home early and order a pizza!”

  I waited until after Steven’s footsteps had thundered down the stairs before I emerged from the bathroom. My face was still flushed, and my hair was damp, but I’d added water to make it look like I’d just been sweating or something.

  Mrs. D’Amico frowned when she saw me. “Steven, the upstairs bathroom isn’t for guests,” she said. “You know that.”

  But she was staring at me when she said it.

  “Uh, yeah, sorry Mom,” Steven.

  Mrs. D’Amico gave me a tight smile. “Elizabeth, how are you?” She cooed insincerely. “It’s been ages since we last saw you. I was starting to think something had happened between you and my son.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said. “I was actually just leaving.”

  Andrea smiled up at me. Her cast had been changed, and the white strips of material gleamed in the dim light of the foyer.

  “Steven, I missed you!” Andrea chirped. “Can you help me into the living room?”

  “Sure.”

  Steven walked over to Andrea and scooped her up tenderly, just like he’d done with me not one hour ago. My heart sank as I watched him carry her gingerly into the living room like she was made of porcelain.

  “Bye, Elizabeth,” Steven called over his shoulder. “See you back in school.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I pushed past Mrs. D’Amico, storming out the front door and stomping down the stairs. The icy air hit me like a slap in the face, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I started running as fast as I could toward Monica’s house.

  Images of Steven and Andrea kept flashing through my mind, chilling me to the bone. I didn’t know what to do. In all of those stupid teen magazines I read, there weren’t any problems like the ones I was facing with Steven. Girls wrote in with things like, “My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I talk to other guys.” Or, “I like this guy, but he has really bad breath. What do I do?”

  I shivered and wrinkled my nose, imagining the letter I’d write: “I really like this guy, but his sister likes him, too, and I think he likes his sister more than me!”

  It was enough to make me sick. I ran and ran, dodging piles of wet slush and snow. Soon, my lungs were aching and my sides burned, but I kept going until the Boers sprawling old farmhouse came into view. As I ran up the steps and pounded on the door, I prayed for Monica to be home.

  Jamie answered the door. She smiled much more warmly than Mrs. D’Amico had. “Hello, Elizabeth,” Jamie said. “Monica’s upstairs. You want me to get her?”

  I sighed with relief. “No, I’m okay,” I said. “I’ll just go up myself if that’s all right.”

  Jamie nodded. “Sure,” she said.

  I took the stairs two at a time and pushed open Monica’s door, quickly shutting it behind me. She was sitting in bed, her face focused on her laptop.

  “Hey,” I said quickly. “Sorry to burst in.” I sighed and flopped down on her bed, covering my hands with my face.

  Monica didn’t look up. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m just doing this stupid essay for school.” She rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Green actually wants to take me out of her AP class because I missed so much time,” she grumbled. “I wrote this essay so the principal would be on my side.”<
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  I nodded. “Oh,” I said.

  Finally, Monica met my gaze. “What’s up?”

  I sighed. “I…I, um, just came from Steven’s.”

  Monica raised her eyebrows and snickered. “You look exhausted,” she said. “What happened?”

  “We had sex,” I said flatly.

  Monica’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “No kidding,” she said.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Well, you don’t seem thrilled about that,” Monica said slowly. “Did something happen? Did it hurt?”

  I shrugged and made a face. “Kind of,” I said. “I mean, at first.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?” Monica narrowed her eyes. “Why did you come over here? Why didn’t you stay there, and…I don’t know, cuddle?”

  “His parents came home.” I grimaced. “Thankfully, it was right after, but I was still in the bathroom, and his mom had the nerve to bitch about how guests shouldn’t be upstairs.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “That sounds just like her,” she said. “Condescending bitch.”

  “There’s something really wrong with Steven and Andrea,” I said. “As soon as they got home, Steven scooped her up and carried her into the living room – just like he had carried me upstairs. It was really creepy, Monica. You should see the way he looks at her. It’s like no other woman exists when Andrea is around.”

  Monica’s eyes took on a strange, glazed look. “They are bound together,” she said slowly.

  I rolled my eyes. “Obviously,” I replied. “They’re brother and sister. It’s so fucking gross,” I added. “Like, I don’t know what she’s even trying to do. Is she jealous of me?”

  Monica didn’t reply. Her brown eyes turned dull and vacant.

  “Hello?” I leaned in close, staring at her in exasperation. “Monica, what happened? Are you still here?”

  “They are bound for centuries,” Monica said. Her voice was low and gravelly, deep enough to make me shiver. “They are bound,” she repeated.

  “Yeah, you said that.” I reached over and grabbed Monica by the shoulders, lightly shaking her.

  Monica didn’t say anything. She began to hum in a low, tuneless drone that filled my ears like the buzzing of bees.

  “You’re being creepy,” I told her. “Quit it, okay?” I groaned. “Look, I’m sorry. I know it’s weird. But I just wanna know what’s going on with Steven and his stupid, creepy sister!”

  Monica’s humming grew louder. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I couldn’t deny that I was starting to feel frustrated, too.

  “Come on, snap out of it,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of Monica’s face. “This isn’t funny!”

  Monica started swaying from side to side, humming loudly and rolling her head.

  I climbed off the bed and groaned. “Whatever,” I said. “You can be weird on your own time. Bye.”

  I expected Monica to snap out of it, to call after me. But as I walked out of her bedroom and ran down the stairs, she didn’t follow. The house was soon filled with the dull sound of her humming.

  Jamie glanced up as I was leaving. “Going so soon? Brian and I thought you might want to stay for dinner.”

  “No, thanks,” I said, trying to be polite. “I can’t. I’ve got to go home.”

  It was then that I noticed the same creepy, blank look in Jamie’s eyes.

  “Very well,” she said slowly – almost mechanically. “See you soon, Elizabeth.”

  Angry and scared, I turned and ran all the way home.

  Chapter Ten

  Monica

  “I don’t even know why I bother,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing sleep from my eyes. I was cradled in a wooden cot in the middle of a hut. Unlike the world around us, the sacred land belonging to the coven always stayed fertile and crisp.

  Henrik sniffed. “You certainly don’t have to be rude,” he said. “But I can sense there is a problem. What now, Monica?”

  I sighed. ‘Elizabeth,’ I thought. But I didn’t feel like talking about her, not now. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I mean, I’ll tell you later.”

  Henrik nodded. He didn’t exactly look satisfied with my explanation. “Ligeia and I have something important that we wish to discuss with you,” he said. “Come, child. This way.”

  “What now, I’m not doing enough?” I rolled my eyes.

  Henrik shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “Nothing like that, I am sorry to say it.”

  I glared at him. “Can you just tell me now?” I shifted anxiously. “I really can’t be here too long, Henrik. My best friend needs me. She’s gotten into a lot of trouble lately.”

  “Aye,” Henrik grunted. “And she’ll be in more before this is all over,” he said slowly. “Come, child. Ligeia waits.”

  Henrik led me through the leafy, verdant forest and into Ligeia’s stone hut. There was a young girl kneeling at the hearth, and Ligeia was instructing her in runes.

  “Ligeia, I have brought the young one,” Henrik said. “Please, send for libations.”

  Ligeia nodded stoically to the girl kneeling by the hearth. The girl flushed and got to her feet, wiping her ashy hands on the muslin fabric of her shirt before curtseying to Ligeia and Henrik and running out of the hut. Ligeia clapped her hands. Seconds later, two young women came in, wearing veils over their heads. They were each carrying trays of something that smelled delicious – roasted meat, and something sweet and floral, like honey.

  Ligeia passed me an earthenware cup. I sniffed cautiously.

  “What is this?” I asked warily. “I don’t want any more of those drugs.”

  Ligeia shook her head. “No,” she said. “This is just mead, freshly harvested with lavender.”

  I sipped. It was thick and sweet on my tongue, and I closed my eyes, savoring the unusual taste. Ligeia and Henrik each took a cup, and Ligeia settled down on a stone chair, looking as comfortable as if she were on a silk chaise.

  “Monica, there is something I have deliberately kept from you all of this time,” Ligeia said softly. “And I hope that when you discover the truth, you will be able to forgive me.”

  I eyed her. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  Ligeia sighed. “It is about my sister, Prudence Arrowsmith.”

  The mead churned in my stomach, and I reached for a piece of dark, rough bread, kneading and tearing it apart with my fingers. A cold wave of nausea passed over me, and I shivered.

  “Yes,” Ligeia said quietly. “I regret that it is not good news.”

  “What is it?”

  Ligeia looked at Henrik. He gave her a long, hard stare before nodding the briefest of nods.

  “I have been untruthful about Prudence’s true abilities,” Ligeia said in a low voice. “I have told you that she is a powerful religious fanatic.”

  “She is,” I said. “Trust me – that hasn’t changed. Andrea’s a freak.”

  “That is not all,” Ligeia said quickly. “At first, that was all I believed because I had no knowledge of her kind.”

  A shiver crawled down my spine, and I swallowed the knot that was starting to form in my throat. “What do you mean, her kind?”

  “She is a witch,” Ligeia said. “An ancient, evil, powerful witch.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said slowly. “Why would she be so against us then? Does she hate what she is?”

  Ligeia shook her head, a grave look on her wizened face. “No,” she said. “She is not like us. She does not draw her power from the Earth, from the world, but rather from within.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “She seeks to destroy the good magical folk among us,” Ligeia said. “Each lifetime, Prudence has been born with varying levels of power. Despite the fact that we have been at odds for centuries, she has never before been this powerful.”

  “She’s been reincarnating all this time?”

  Ligeia nodded. “Always with the same foul
intent,” she said in disgust. Her eyes flared with anger and centuries of resentment.

  I felt my heart sink.

  “This is the most powerful she has ever been,” Henrik said. He cleared his throat and coughed. “She already has most of the town of Jaffrey – your town – under her control.” He shook his head sadly. “Ligeia and I did not believe it to be possible, but we were wrong, most unfortunately,” he said.

  “What does this mean?” I sniffed. Fear was dripping into my chest, making me feel paralyzed and nauseous.

  “It means that we have a difficult challenge ahead,” Ligeia said softly. “It means that things will be more intense than we had originally thought.”

  I sighed. “We might as well give up,” I said. I slumped against the crude wooden table. “I don’t know what to do. The whole town has already lost its god damn mind. Elizabeth got taken by the cops for over twelve hours, and no one did anything. She’s a minor! She’s only fifteen!”

  Ligeia nodded gravely. “Yes,” she said slowly. “And things will become worse before they become better, I assure you.”

  “Prudence seeks power from the good magical people,” Henrik said. He took a long swig of mead and put his cup down on the hearth. “She seeks to destroy us, absorb our power, and then control as much as she can, which unfortunately, is a great deal.”

  “How are we supposed to stop her?” I threw my hands up in the air. “She’s steamrolling over everyone!”

  “She must be taken down individually,” Henrik said in a low voice. He scooted closer and reached for a hunk of goat cheese from the table. As I watched, he broke it apart in his hands. “She herself must be destroyed in order to break the hold on your village.”

  “So, I have to kill her,” I said blankly. Somehow, saying the words out loud didn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought. I’d never imagined how anyone could willingly commit a murder.

  But suddenly, I understood.

  “Are you making me feel this way?” I turned to Henrik. “Are you controlling me?”

  “No, child,” Henrik said. “Your thoughts are your own. And you are correct,” he added, rubbing his chin with one wrinkled hand. “She must be killed and ripped apart. Her heart must be burned.”