Blood on the Moon

by Jennifer Knight

  “Lucas?” I asked again, louder now.

  Two huge hands yanked me by my shirt into the blackness. I shrieked. One of the hands closed over my mouth.

  “Shut up. It’s fine. Just me.”

  Lucas let me go with a jerk, but my lips burned from where he had touched them. It was the first time our skin had touched for longer than a second, something I definitely noticed, even if he didn’t. Lucas backed against the wall, as far from me as possible, although there was only about a foot of space between us. My body was alive with his nearness.

  “What are we doing in here?” I whispered.

  “Giving anyone who saw that time to think they imagined it.”

  “Oh.” I could just barely see Lucas’s profile in the moonlight streaming in from between the buildings. He was clad in only a pair of shorts. His broad chest took up most of my vision, so I busied myself by looking around for signs of Mark. “What did you do with him?”

  Lucas eyed me. “You really wanna know?”

  I flinched away. Definitely not. I felt fairly certain I wouldn’t have to worry about Mark anymore. “What am I going to tell Ashley?” I asked.

  “Don’t tell anybody anything. You never saw him today, never heard from him, nothing. We’ll take care of the police if they get involved.”

  “How?”

  “We have some pack members on the police force.” He seemed to sense my uncertainty and gave me a withering look. “We do this a lot, Faith. Cover-ups, I mean. Everyone will just think he went missing ... a tragedy.” He sniffed bitterly.

  I nodded and looked up at him. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Yeah, right,” he grumbled. “Just a human.”

  “He’d been drinking vampire blood.”

  Lucas was unconcerned. “They get themselves ... helpers sometimes. Blood bitches, I call them.”

  I giggled despite myself.

  “But what do they need humans for?” I asked. “I mean, besides what Mark said—getting us out of our houses.”

  Lucas winced. “I wish he hadn’t told you so much.”

  “Why not?”

  His eyes met mine, shining in the scant light. “I hoped that maybe I could spare you knowing the gory details.” His voice was gentle for once.

  I found myself much too pleased that he’d been thinking of sparing me the horror of his dark world. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to know about it.

  “I don’t mind . . .”

  I heard him sigh. “They get humans to do their dirty work, usually people with connections.”

  “What do they have them do?”

  “Just odd jobs, things they don’t want to do themselves, or can’t. Anything that has to be done during the day, digging graves for their victims or covering up missing people. Taking the fall for their murders.”

  “What?” I couldn’t imagine any human being so desperate for vampire blood that they would take the fall for a murder they hadn’t committed.

  Lucas nodded sadly. “They’re like drug addicts, the blood bitches. They’ll do anything to get vamped.”

  “Wow,” I whispered. And then I remembered something. “Mark said he was eating saffron to poison Vincent if he ever bit him. Did you bite him? Would that hurt you?”

  Lucas chuckled darkly. “They’re still using that one, eh?” He smiled down at me. His sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight, making me very aware that he had been a rabid wolf not five minutes ago. “Saffron is just a spice. They invent stories like that to make the humans feel better, feel in control, but there’s not much that can hurt a vampire, except us.”

  We both fell silent for a long moment.

  “Faith,” Lucas murmured.

  I met his eyes, loving the fact that he didn’t hide them from me anymore.

  “I felt something when I was changed,” he said quietly. “Something ... different.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

  “It was like ... for just an instant, I wasn’t in control.”

  “I thought you were never in control when you change?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. It was like, someone else was steering me. It was just an instant, but it was unnerving.”

  My pulse quickened as I remembered the electric shock that had hit me when my eyes met Lucas’s. It was as though our minds had been connected. In that moment, I’d been stalled on those few words, Attack Mark, not me. And then Lucas had obeyed. He hadn’t so much as glanced at me the whole time he was changed. And after Mark had been defeated, he had changed right back into a human. A wild thought occurred to me at Lucas’s words. Had I controlled him? Or had I just been very, very lucky?

  “And you think this has something to do with me?” I asked, unable to keep my voice from warbling.

  He surveyed me for a long while, but then he shook his head. “No, I guess not. How could it?”

  I just shrugged. I could have told him that I’d felt something too, but admitting it would have made it real. I wasn’t sure I was ready to acknowledge that I had an ability. I’d only just entered this underworld of supernatural creatures, but I knew that if what I thought had happened—that I had somehow stopped Lucas from attacking me—he definitely shouldn’t know about it.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucas asked when I remained silent.

  “I feel like—” I groped for something to tell him that wasn’t a lie. “I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore. Anyone could be working for the vampires.” And it was true. I felt terribly alone all of a sudden, singled out for no reason that I could see.

  Lucas looked down at me. He reached his hand out like he was going to touch my cheek, but lowered it with a sorrowful grimace. “You can trust me,” he said firmly.

  I met his gaze, wishing with my entire body that he hadn’t stopped himself from touching me. “I know,” I murmured. And as I said the words, I knew they were true. If I could trust anyone, it was Lucas.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get inside before Vincent figures out where we are.”

  Lucas let me go to my place first to gather some things to store in his room. I was wary of being left alone when Vincent could be hiding anywhere, waiting for me to exit my dorm, but Lucas assured me that he had someone watching me. I presumed he meant Julian. Meanwhile, Lucas said he’d be dealing with Mark’s body. I didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do with it.

  I went up to my room. Ashley was sitting at her desk, popping her gum and messing around on her computer, oblivious to what had just happened. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her as I imagined what she’d do when she found out that Mark was missing. She was nice, really—if a little ditzy—and I hated to think that soon she would be in pain.

  “Hey,” I said as I entered.

  She waved, not bothering to turn around. I took a quick shower and felt much better when I got out. I was throwing on some woolen socks when Ashley knocked on the bathroom door.

  I came out and she said, “Some guy just came by and left something for you.”

  “What guy?” I asked, snapping to attention.

  “Dunno . . . really tall with brown hair and freckles.”

  “Freckles?” I said, frowning. I’d thought maybe it was Lucas, but he didn’t have freckles.

  “Yeah, he was supercute. He left a note. It’s on your desk.”

  I went over to my desk and found that there was a piece of lined notebook paper folded in half lying on my computer. I opened it and something fell out. I bent and picked up a little brass key. Confused, I opened the note.

  This is from Lucas .

  He’s going to be held up.

  Go straight to his room when you’re

  done packing. Lock the door behind you .

  Don’t let anyone in.

  ~ Julian

  I stared for a moment. Julian . . . Lucas’s pack brother. So he had been the one assigned to keep watch on me while Lucas handled Mark.

  I tossed the note in the trash and spent the next th
irty minutes packing the essentials. I waved good-bye to Ashley, who was complaining that Mark wasn’t answering his phone, and ran over to Lucas’s room, slamming the door behind me. I locked it firmly and exhaled. I went over to Lucas’s desk and flipped on the low light. Not knowing what to do, I drifted to the window and watched the half-moon hanging serenely in the sky with not a care in the world but waxing and waning. I had sick visions of Vincent’s face popping up in the window, smiling that pointy smile, licking my blood from his lips.

  I had to stop thinking. I needed a task. I set off into the bathroom to put all my girly things in the cabinets. I didn’t take up too much room, but I saw that Lucas had cleared out half of everything for me to use. Half the closet, half of the shower, half of the desk drawers.

  I shuffled around the pens and papers rattling around in the bottom drawer and my hand found something leather. I pulled it out and found a small notebook. I held it in my hands, rubbing the black leather. I cracked it open and my eyes widened.

  It was a sketchbook.

  In it were amazing drawings. Pictures of things I could only dream about. There were moons and eyes and wolves and fangs swirling, melding together, angry and tangled up in Lucas’s mind. I touched the pages. These drawings were tortured, anguished. I could see a pattern. They started out melancholy, sketches of hands curled against a man’s face, tears raking down his cheeks. Then they became more anxious—trees, hunts, and night skies filled the pages. Then I saw drawings of wolves, of moons looming above, taunting him—calling to him. Then the transformation. Angry, raging pictures, some so gruesome I quickly turned the pages. And then the drawings would become mournful again.

  I came to the last page, a drawing of a girl—just her face and the spindly branches of an evergreen. Great care was taken in the execution of her eyes, distant and vaguely somber. Her lips pursed into a small frown, her dark hair coiled around her shoulders loose and free. She had a small freckle above her left eyebrow—just like me.

  I smiled slightly and felt my heart swell.

  Then the door banged open and I yipped, dropping the book on the floor. But it was just Lucas. I exhaled heavily and put my hand to my chest, laughing.

  “Lucas! Jeez, you scared me.”

  Lucas came in and locked the door behind him. “Sorry I’m late. I hit traffic.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, still catching my breath. Where had he gone with Mark’s body that involved traffic?

  Lucas walked to the couch and sat heavily, kicking off his shoes. “Sorry I scared you.”

  “It’s fine.” I stood by his desk, not really knowing what to do with myself—if I could go sit by him without it bothering him. I saw his eyes fall on the journal on the floor and then streak to mine.

  “You looked at it?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “Wish you hadn’t done that,” he said, standing up. He crossed the little room in two strides and bent to pick up the book. He straightened and flipped through it, looking at me. He was standing very close—closer than he usually did.

  “They’re amazing,” I said. “You’re really good.”

  He nodded like he already knew that. “It’s just my way of ... coping.” He closed the book and placed it on the desk. “Some of it’s kind of dark, but it helps. Sometimes.”

  “It’s good to have an outlet,” I supplied uselessly. “Is that why you’re here?”

  He stared blankly at me.

  “In college, I mean.” I imagined that he must have been in college before, seeing as how he was over three centuries old, so I couldn’t really understand why he was even at CSU. What was the point?

  “Oh,” Lucas said, clueing in. “Well, yeah. All my other degrees are in boring stuff—law, medicine, business. When I started drawing, I thought maybe I’d learn more. I got some pieces showing soon.”

  “Pieces . . . showing?”

  “I’m an art major. Some of the students get to show their work at the end of the semester. It’s not a big deal.” He bit his top lip for a moment. “You can come see them. I mean, if you want.” He sounded tentative, almost reluctant.

  “I’d love to see them,” I said, meaning it completely. “I wish I had talent like you.”

  Lucas’s face was skeptical as he sat at the desk chair.

  “No, really,” I said. “If I had talent like that, I’d at least know what I want to major in. What I want to do for the rest of my life.”

  “You don’t have a major?” Lucas asked, sounding disbelieving.

  I pushed myself up onto his bed, letting my feet dangle off the edge. “Nope. I’m lost. Totally and completely lost.”

  “I used to feel that way,” Lucas said. “Still do, sometimes. But then one day I picked up a pencil and just started going. Stopped caring about being good or bad at it, and just did it for the release.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Lucas studied me for a moment. “Try it,” he said.

  “What? No.” I looked away, feeling my face grow hot.

  “Naw, come on,” he said, standing up. He moved in front of me and leaned in, placing his hands on either side of my thighs. He was so close. Now my face was on fire. I couldn’t even breathe. “I promise I won’t look,” he said, interpreting my expression as embarrassment. “It might be good for you, especially after everything that’s happened.”

  I started to look away, but his eyes caught mine.

  “You must be feeling some pretty strong things, Faith. You gotta find some way to get it all out. Maybe this is the way.”

  “I’m a horrible artist,” I said, pleadingly.

  “Doesn’t matter. Nobody’s gonna see it but you.” He stepped away from me and grabbed a pencil and some blank paper from his desk drawers. “I’m gonna jump in the shower. Feel free to use these.” He pointed at the paper on his desk.

  I nodded and watched him shut the bathroom door. I listened as the shower turned on and heard the rustle of the curtain being pulled back. Trying not to let the image of Lucas’s naked body invade my thoughts, I reached over and grabbed the pencil and paper from the desk, holding them in my hands.

  They were mocking me.

  I leaned onto my elbow and put the pencil to the paper. Its blankness was staring at me, waiting for me to make the first move.

  I listened again to the water running and stared at the bar of light underneath the bathroom door, thinking of Lucas.

  I had to stop ... I needed to stop. I could feel myself falling, and it was a feeling I knew very well. Luckily, it was a feeling I knew how to stop.

  At least, I knew how to stop it with Derek.

  But everything was different with Lucas. Despite my better judgment, I trusted him almost to the point of stupidity. And everything was more potent with him—every time my heart skipped, every breath that caught in my throat, every tremble of my hands. It was as undeniable and inescapable as nightfall.

  Lucas was the night, dark and dangerous, flirting with my senses and making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling but secretly wanted.

  And it was that wanting that scared me. Because it didn’t matter how much I wanted Lucas, I couldn’t have him. In the end, it would be just the same as with Derek. Lucas would eventually break my heart. So I couldn’t love him—couldn’t love anyone.

  The bathroom door creaked open, and Lucas came out wearing only a pair of dark blue jeans hanging unbuttoned on his bare hips. He was clearly not wearing underwear because I could see almost down to his butt. His chest was bare, still moist, and his short hair stood up in little spikes. He ran his hand over it, and I watched the water sparkle through the air hand over it, and I watched the water sparkle through the air and hit the mirror.

  “Oops,” he said, wiping the mirror off with his hand.

  I smiled and blushed. I must have giggled too because Lucas looked over at me, hiking his jeans up and buttoning them. “You care if I don’t wear a shirt? I figured you wouldn’t since, you know, you kind of saw me na
ked.” His lips spread into a devilish little grin.

  I gaped, thinking there was no way he could get any hotter. “No, I don’t care.”

  “Awesome. I hate wearing clothes. I feel like they’re smothering me.”

  I gaped some more, feeling kind of smothered myself.

  Lucas came over to the bed and stood near my feet, leaning on the bedpost. “How’s it goin’?” he asked, jerking his head toward the pencil I had clutched between my fingers.

  I looked down at my paper and was surprised to see the rough sketch of an eye looking back at me. It was big and angular with pupils narrowed into vertical slits.

  “Ahh,” I mumbled, “It’s okay.”

  “Can I see?”

  “I guess ... but it’s just a little doodle. Nothing amazing.”

  Lucas took the paper and nodded at it. “What was your inspiration?” he asked, looking up at me. His eyes blazed silver and the pupils narrowed. They were two identical replicas of my drawing.

  “Oh, shut up,” I said, snatching the drawing away. “It just came out. I didn’t even know I was drawing it.”

  “That means you were thinking about me while I was in the shower.” He smiled impishly again and moved closer to me. “I was thinking about you, too.”

  “You’re such a jerk,” I said, flushing.

  Lucas laughed loudly and flopped himself down on the couch. He stared at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. “Julian said you were with Derek today?” His tone was uncaring, overtly so.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “What’d you guys do?”

  “He went with me to get a new phone.”

  “I told you I’d pay for that,” he said sharply.

  “And I told you I could handle it.”

  Lucas fell silent, his face drifting into that familiar scowl. “What’s with you two, anyway?” he asked, sounding angry now.

  I rolled over to glower at the ceiling. “What do you mean?”

  “You say Derek’s your best friend, but all you do is fight with the guy. What’s the deal?”

  I peered at him. “You really want to know? Or are you just trying to be nice?”

  “If I didn’t wanna know, I wouldn’t have asked.”