Blood on the Moon

by Jennifer Knight

  He said that he only pushed me away to keep me safe. But safe from what? Why was it that he could hardly bear to look at me or touch me, while I saw him kissing Courtney? What was it about me that got him so charged?

  And for that matter, what was it about him that got me so charged? Every time he came near me I felt like my face was on fire. I couldn’t breathe and my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. It was like what I felt around Derek but stronger.

  Suddenly coldness swept through me as I realized that Vincent knew about Derek. He knew what Derek meant to me, about our fight, about everything. What if Vincent hurt Derek to get to me, which would in turn, get to Lucas?

  I saw the door handle jiggle and a sliver of yellow light lit up the room. Lucas poked his head in.

  “You decent?”

  “Yeah.”

  He came in, and I heard clothes and junk shuffling as he cleared his way into the room. I saw only his silhouette in the faint moonlight, and I looked out the window next to his bed. The great yellow moon looked back at me, more menacing now than mysterious, as it once had been. It was almost as if I, too, could feel its power ... the danger it caused.

  “Lucas?”

  “Yeah?” He sounded tired.

  “What if Vincent tries to hurt Derek to get to me?”

  “I thought of that, too,” Lucas said. There was an edge to his deep voice. “I got a pack member on him right now.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Julian. My brother.”

  “Your brother’s a werewolf, too?”

  “He’s not my real brother ... not my blood brother, anyway.”

  “And Derek will be safe with him? He won’t change around him?”

  “No, Julian’s very much in control of himself.” There was a note of resentment in his voice that made me want to ask more, to know why Derek would be safe with Julian while I was in danger with Lucas.

  But Lucas silenced my thoughts. “We should sleep,” he said. “We’ve got class in the morning.”

  I watched as he settled himself on the couch. He swiped away a pile of old books and tossed a pillow down. I had to stifle a gasp as he pulled his shirt off and threw himself onto the cushions. I watched his back swell with the intake of a sigh. His bare skin, illuminated by the gentle glow of the moonlight, reminded me of the woods tonight, of how he had saved me. Risked his life—however eternal it might be—to make sure I didn’t get hurt.

  “Lucas?” I whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  He shifted around and looked at me. “Anytime,” he said, his voice soft and grating like the low end of a guitar. He looked at me for a long time as some sort of silent understanding flowed between us. The trust of two strangers, bound together by a secret. I watched his eyes slowly melt to deep, dark brown as he said, “Night, Faith.” He turned over again.

  “Night,” I whispered back.

  I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, heart thudding sporadically in my chest. I had the strange urge to cuddle up with Lucas on the couch, to hide in his arms, where I knew I’d be safe. But that was a bad idea. Not only did I not want to trigger him, but I didn’t want to start anything between us. I felt something for him, something I couldn’t deny. But I couldn’t act on it. I’d already lost one friend that way, and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

  So I continued to stare at the ceiling, imagining little shapes the shadows made in the contours of the plaster. I saw a bunny, the letter C, a tree ... a girl ... a wolf....

  11

  CONSPIRACY THEORY

  I awoke in the morning to a bright light. I blinked and rolled over to find that the sun was reflecting off a dirty glass on the side table and into my eyes. I sat up and stretched, looking over at the couch.

  Lucas was still there, sleeping away. I watched him for a while, thinking of last night and all its impossibilities, which were now somehow possible.

  I watched his nose twitch and his lips draw up into a snarl. He made a little whimper and I smiled. He was dreaming. I had the desire to go over and run my hands through his hair like I had in the woods after he’d changed. Feel his soft skin ...

  I shook myself and glanced at the alarm clock by his bed. It was only seven. I didn’t have class until ten. I debated going back to sleep, but I still had to go to my room and change clothes so I slid down off the bed and landed lightly on my bare feet. I padded over to the bathroom, grabbing my dirty costume from last night. I threw it on with disgust and snagged my shoes. Casting one last look at Lucas’s sleeping form, I crept out of his room and into the morning light flooding the hallway.

  I raced to my room, praying to all gods in existence that I didn’t see anyone I knew. I looked like I’d been through a tornado, and I felt even worse. My pulse accelerated as I went through the courtyard. I knew it was stupid to be scared since Vincent could only come out at night—at least that’s what Lucas said—but I couldn’t help feeling anxious all the way to the stairs.

  I chucked myself into my room and was relieved to see that Ashley wasn’t home yet. She’d probably spent the night at Mark’s or something. I undressed and threw the costume and the now ruined shoes, phone, and purse in the garbage. I never wanted to see any of it again. I took a short shower and put on my comfy sweats and a tank top. I felt better already. I surveyed myself in the mirror, wondering if this was the same person I knew yesterday. She looked the same, minus the cut at her temple and the lavender circles under her olive green eyes. But something about the girl in the mirror unnerved me. She seemed ... hardened.

  I sighed at myself. Talk about a hangover.

  I applied some Neosporin to my cut. Then I grabbed my computer and settled into bed to do some online shopping for a new cell phone. It was as though the dorm phone by my bedside saw me doing this because no sooner had I finished typing “Best Buy” into the address line, than the phone rang.

  I jumped about two feet into the air and grabbed it.

  “Hello?” I said, straining to keep my voice level.

  “Faith, Jesus,” Lucas’s relieved voice came through the receiver. “Why’d you leave without telling me? I about lost my mind when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Don’t do that again. At least leave a note or something.”

  “Sorry,” I said again, cursing myself for not thinking of that.

  A bloated silence filled the receiver.

  “You feeling okay?” Lucas finally asked. He sounded like he didn’t know what to say. I didn’t either.

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Tired, but good. Glad you’re okay . . .”

  “Yep. Well, I gotta go. I’m trying to find a new phone. I think either you or Vincent squashed it last night.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry.” Lucas sounded genuinely upset about this. “I’ll get you a new one.”

  “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” I said hastily. “I can get my own.”

  There was another long pause.

  “Okay, well ... I’ll see you at class,” I said finally.

  “Okay,” Lucas said. I could still hear the guilt in his voice.

  “Don’t worry about the phone.”

  “I’m not.” His voice was defensive.

  “Good.”

  “Good!” he said, sounding annoyed now. “Bye.” He hung up and I stared at the receiver, shaking my head. For being over three hundred years old, Lucas sure didn’t have very good people skills.

  I put the dorm phone down and turned back to my computer. I pressed enter to bring up Best Buy’s home page when the phone rang again. I picked it up, expecting, and maybe even slightly hoping, to hear Lucas on the other end again. But the voice I heard was so far removed from Lucas’s deep, scratchy voice that I almost gasped.

  “Hi,” Derek’s mellow voice came through the receiver.

  For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

  “Hi,” I said bac
k. My voice sounded strange, like I was listening to myself on a recording.

  “Why aren’t you answering your cell phone?” He didn’t sound angry. He sounded careful, as though he was trying very hard to keep from fighting with me.

  “It broke,” I said, deciding not to elaborate lest I spill everything. Derek usually had that effect on me. As soon as I saw him, I just started spilling my guts. It felt wrong to have this secret lodged between us.

  “I broke it off with Courtney,” Derek said slowly.

  I frowned, choosing my next words carefully. Talking with Derek was now like traversing a minefield, one wrong step and ... boom.

  “Are you okay?” I asked finally.

  That was a safe question. It showed I was concerned about him, but that the information didn’t necessarily mean anything to me—even though it did.

  “I’m just fine,” Derek said tartly. “You know I didn’t like her, Faith. She was just someone I could ... distract myself with.”

  I grimaced at the phone, thinking about what he meant by “distract.”

  “That’s good,” I lied. “It’s good for you to distract yourself. It makes things ... easier.”

  Derek didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he said softly, “I miss you, Faith.”

  I exhaled. “God, I miss you, too,” I said in a rush. “Can we just forget about this whole thing and go back to the way we were? Are we done torturing each other?”

  “Well, I’m done torturing myself if that’s what you mean.” There was an edge to his voice that cut me.

  I bit my lip. “It’s been hard for me, too,” I said. “I’ve been a wreck.”

  Derek was quiet.

  “You there?” I asked tentatively.

  “Yeah. I’m here. But I have to go. I’m late for practice. I’ll—I’ll see you around, Faith.”

  He hung up the phone, leaving me staring blankly at it again.

  What the hell was that about? Does he want to be friends again? Am I allowed to call him, talk to him? I slammed the phone onto the bedside table.

  For the next thirty minutes, I threw myself into my search for a new cell phone, but I was unable to find anything I liked. I looked up when the door handle jiggled, and I watched Ashley shuffle in, bleary eyed and frizzy. She wore the remnants of a Halloween costume—a crooked tiara, a rather sad-looking tutu, and a wand tucked into her purse.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She grunted. “You won’t believe the night I had.”

  I hid a smile behind my hand and repressed the urge to challenge her. Instead I said, “Oh, yeah? What happened?”

  She started pulling her shoes off and said, “Ugh, well, first I went to this party out in the middle of nowhere and got stranded because Mark disappeared.”

  That was probably the same party I was at, which struck me as strange. Did they even know Vincent? If so, how? And if Mark had mysteriously disappeared, it strengthened my theory that he was somehow involved in this supernatural world.

  “So I tried to get a ride with Courtney,” Ashley went on, “but she was too busy wallowing over Derek breaking up with her to bother driving me home. Then she got totally wasted and ended up crying on my shoulder for hours. I only now got her sober enough to tell me where her car was.”

  “Where is she now?” I asked. It didn’t distress me much to know she was sad about Derek dumping her. I was sure she’d be over it by the end of the day, as usual.

  “I tossed her in her room,” Ashley said, waving her hand dismissively. “I don’t think she’s going to class, so you should just go without her.”

  I made a face at my computer screen. Like I’d be waiting for her anyway.

  “Hey,” Ashley said, giving me a concerned look. “What happened to your head?”

  I reached up to the cut on my head, instinctually trying to cover it, even though I knew she’d already seen it. “I, ah . . . got a little too trashed last night.” I shrugged, trying to look innocent.

  Ashley seemed to buy it. “Damn,” she said. “Take it easy next time. You might hurt something important.”

  I fought back a retort about how hurting my head was just as important as hurting any other part of my body—if not more so.

  Suddenly, Ashley gasped and came skipping toward my bed. She started patting my leg excitedly and said, “Oh, God, did you hear what happened last night?”

  My heart all but stopped. Did someone see what had happened in the woods? Did they see Lucas change? Oh, Lord ... what would they do to him if they found out? The government would surely take him and keep him locked up in some cage made of silver so they could run tests and experiments like he was some kind of lab rat. I felt my hands clamping onto the edges of my computer. I was frightened, but I tried not to let it show in my face.

  “What happened?” I managed to croak.

  “A girl was found dead this morning, just outside of Fort Collins. They said it was someone from CSU. Someone found her just like all the other ones. You know ... with the blood drained out of her.”

  Ashley’s final words rang in my ears like a gong going off. Blood drained from their bodies . . . why didn’t I see it before?

  “Oh, Jesus,” I whispered.

  “I know,” Ashley said, nodding solemnly. “Poor girl. They said it happened late last night. It’s all over the news, wanna watch?”

  “No,” I said. “I gotta go.”

  I launched myself out of bed. I had to talk to Lucas and confirm what I already knew to be true. I got to his building and realized I had no key to get in. I banged on the door, hoping someone would hear.

  Nobody came. I cursed and looked around, bouncing on my heels nervously.

  A boy with frosted tips sauntered up, looking me up and down.

  “Do you live here?” I demanded.

  “Sure do,” he said, smiling. “Forgot your key?”

  “Yes!” I said frantically.

  He shot me an uneasy glance, but opened the door for me. I ran through it and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. I pounded my fist on Lucas’s door, and he opened it instantly.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking around for signs of danger.

  “Did you hear what happened last night?” I panted. “It was Vincent. I know it.”

  Lucas’s face relaxed. “You scared me.”

  I blinked at him. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Vincent’s the serial killer!”

  “Shh!” Lucas hissed, glancing around. He flung me into his room by my sleeve and clapped the door shut.

  I looked around and was stunned to see his room was spotlessly clean. It smelled pine fresh and the window was open, letting a crisp, cool wind cleanse the funk. This time, I noticed that the walls of Lucas’s room were papered in art. Black-and-white paintings of wolves, of thunderous seascapes, of silent, snow-covered forests and darker things. Things that made me grimace. It was beautiful but overwhelming. I imagined it was something like being inside his mind.

  “You cleaned,” I said, astonished.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “I felt bad having you stay here when it looked ... the way it did.”

  I smiled at him and put my hand on his arm, but he jerked away with a shiver.

  “Oh . . . jeez,” I said, flinching. “I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Lucas said shortly. “No big deal.” He smiled halfheartedly.

  I stared at him as he gained control over his instincts.

  It was just a brief contact, skin on skin for just an instant, and the change had been triggered. His ongoing need to release what was wild and fierce within him—the thing he struggled so hard to repress—I had ignited it with just a touch. I suddenly felt horrible that I’d made him so uncomfortable, that I’d pushed him past the boundaries of his self-control. I needed to be more careful.

  Then I remembered why I came here.

  “Lucas,” I said urgently. “I’m about ninety-nine percent positive th
at Vincent is the one that’s been killing all those girls in Denver. I mean, think about it—their blood was drained. What else could do that but a vampire? And then a girl was killed last night after what happened in the woods. I’m just guessing here, but Vincent got hurt, so drinking someone’s blood probably helps him heal faster, right? That would mean that he killed some girl to help himself heal. He’s got to be the killer.”

  Lucas’s brows had knitted together during my little tirade, and he now contemplated me with squinted eyes, as if trying to decide what to say next.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” I pressed, unable to stand his silence any longer.

  “Kind of,” he said delicately. “It’s complicated.”

  “Go on,” I said, sitting down on the couch to prepare myself for more information—as if I hadn’t already had enough to last a lifetime.

  Lucas sat next to me, but stayed pressed against the cushions, as far away as possible.

  “We definitely know it’s a vampire that’s killing girls,” Lucas said slowly. “But whether it’s Vincent we can’t say. He masks his scent, so we can’t track him. It looks like it’s him, but there’s been word of other vampires in the area, so it’s possible it was one of them.”

  “It had to have been Vincent,” I said, determined to be right. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”

  “You’re right, it is a pretty big coincidence, but there are some holes.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, when vampires feed, they don’t just leave their prey out there in the open like that. They hide them so that no one sees these bloodless bodies strewn all over the place. I mean, it’d be kind of obvious to the werewolves in the area what was going on, and the vampires don’t like dealing with us.”

  “Why not?” I asked, slightly overwhelmed by everything.

  “Because we usually manage to kill them, once we find their lair,” he said, smiling smugly.

  “Lair?” I asked incredulously.

  “It’s their fancy little word for home. They live in broods, usually no more than ten to a group—though I’ve heard of some growing into the fifties. And they hide out together underground. A vampire’s lair is his most guarded secret. I’ve seen maybe ... ten of them in my lifetime. But once you get in there, killing vampires is relatively easy in comparison to finding them—at least in most cases. The older they are, the harder they are to kill. So for a vampire as old as Vincent . . . well, let’s just say I’ve been trying to kill him for over three centuries and he’s still here.”