Blood on the Moon

by Jennifer Knight

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I said. “But prepare yourself for some major melodrama.” He smiled, and I told him the condensed version of my sad history with Derek and our current status of nonfriends, nonlovers, nonanything.

  “That sucks,” Lucas said when I was done. “But I don’t get it. Why won’t you just go out with him? It seems like you really like the guy, so what’s the big deal?”

  Why didn’t anyone understand this, but me? “Because I can’t trust him anymore, and pretending to do so would only make things worse. He wants more. I can’t give it to him. End of story.”

  Lucas mulled this over for a bit. “Why can’t you give him more?”

  “Because I just can’t. It’s not in me.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Love,” I admitted finally.

  “Why not?”

  “Ugh!” I exploded. “What is this? Make-Faith-uncomfortable night? Can we please talk about something else?”

  “Sure,” Lucas said. But he didn’t say anything.

  Silence enveloped us.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I said, unable to stand the silence beating against my ears.

  “What’s your favorite book?” he asked, grinning in my direction.

  I laughed as the tension between us broke. “Cujo by Stephen King.”

  “Aw, shut up,” he said, throwing a pillow at me and laughing.

  13

  FIRST SNOW

  After that first night, life fell into a comfortable routine. For the next two weeks, I spent all of my time with Lucas. He walked me to my classes, ate lunch and dinner with me, and then I spent every night at his place. He even sat in the bleachers sketching while I was at track practice. He was forbidden from attending any meets—it would have made me too nervous to compete—but I enjoyed having his eyes on me as I ran at practice.

  Mark’s disappearance had been televised as a kidnapping, and his parents had appeared on the local news station, teary-eyed and begging for his return. The sight had made me sick to my stomach, and I stopped watching the news after that. Mark’s roommates—Derek included—and Ashley had been questioned by the police, but since the werewolves on the force kept things relatively quiet, there wasn’t much of an uproar from the community. People let it slide as a tragedy—just as Lucas had predicted.

  There were no more murders, thank God, and I didn’t see Vincent, or hear of him at all. I didn’t see Derek either, except once. Lucas took me to a football game, and I saw him play, though I never spoke to him or even let him know I was there. I had been expecting to feel some sort of pain upon seeing Derek, but all I felt was a dull sadness. I missed him, yes. But as time passed, the ache his absence had caused began to fade and I thought of him less and less.

  Mostly, I thought of Lucas. Maybe that was because we spent almost every minute together, or because we suddenly got along so well, or possibly because being near him sent shivers down my spine—even after two weeks. But Lucas became my world. We stayed up late, sometimes all night long, just talking. Lucas was a great talker once I got him started. And he knew everything—art, movies, history, books, food—name it and Lucas could tell a wild story about it. He’d traveled to tons of countries and had some crazy adventures in many of them—some involving blood and guts.

  But we never talked about his pack or about Vincent. Those were two topics we stayed away from. Nor did I bring up my suspicions about what had happened that night with Mark. If I had made some sort of connection with Lucas while he was changed ... if I had controlled him, I knew I needed to keep it to myself. Nothing good would come of telling Lucas about it. Besides, I didn’t even know if I had done anything. Maybe I was just one very lucky human.

  Lucas and I never discussed any trouble he was having being around me either, although his eyes flashed silver all the time—while we were laughing, playing cards, or watching TV. Or sometimes during those perfect quiet moments, when we were just content to be near each other. I’d look over and catch him staring at me, his eyes cast in silver. He’d shiver a little and look away quickly, taking deep breaths to control his instincts.

  I was careful to stay away from him, never coming too close, never touching him. But sometimes our fingers would accidentally brush against each other or our legs would touch when we sat on the couch together. And each touch was like a fire alarm going off in my brain. I was constantly aware of my body, where it was in relation to his, if I was about to touch him. If I would inadvertently set him off.

  I felt myself falling for him, but I couldn’t stop myself like I could with Derek. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself of the contrary, I knew deep inside that I trusted Lucas. And knowing that was enough to make me fall harder than I ever had with Derek, or anyone else.

  And though it frightened me, that fear was the least of my worries. That was a good fear in comparison to what really scared me.

  Vincent.

  Sometimes I found myself doodling on the margins of my papers, only to see his black eyes staring out at me, a pair of bloody fangs over my neck. I dreamt of Vincent’s eyes looking in from the window, the moon melting into his face, so dangerously handsome and terrifying. I heard his silken voice against my ears, saying my name, and that sick laughter. Many times I’d wake up in the middle of the night, crying. Lucas would hear me and come to my side. He never touched me, but he’d just talk to me, distracting me.

  He made me laugh when I was down, challenged me into new ways of thinking when I was being stubborn and entertained me when I was bored. Or sometimes he was just there as this constant force in my life, keeping me safe, keeping me company.

  That is, until the full moon came.

  It was our first full moon together. It was Saturday and I rose late, but right from the moment I woke up I could tell it was going to be a tension-filled day. I found Lucas sitting on the couch, his leg jiggling frantically. His eyes were silver. Bright silver.

  “You okay?” I asked, yawning.

  “Good. You’re up.” He stood and grabbed a pack next to his leg. “I gotta get outta here, but I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye.” He started toward the door.

  “Wait,” I said. “You’re leaving?”

  He didn’t look at me. “Yup. I can’t be around you today. Not at all. The urge is too much. I’ll have Julian on you until nighttime.”

  “But wait! We didn’t talk about this. You can’t just leave me alone tonight. What about Vincent?”

  “I’m gonna call you as soon as I leave. I gotta go.”

  With that he thrust himself out of the door.

  Two minutes later Lucas called. I snapped the phone to my ear.

  “Lucas?” I said, my voice high.

  “Yeah.” He sounded much calmer. We were both quiet for a moment, each of us absorbing the moment. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. His voice sounded pained.

  “It’s okay,” I said instantly. “I didn’t realize it was so hard for you . . . you never talk about it.”

  “It’s not so bad. It’s been getting better.... It’s just with the full moon . . .”

  “I understand.”

  I really didn’t understand, but it was the right thing to say. I jumped out of bed and crossed the room to lie on the couch. I curled up on it, inhaling deeply. I wasn’t used to being alone like this—without Lucas.

  “All right, so listen,” Lucas said, sounding businesslike. “I know we didn’t talk about this, but I got a plan for tonight. The thing about vampires is that they can’t enter a household without being invited.”

  “I know,” I said. “Mark told me.”

  “Right,” Lucas growled.

  “But why can’t they come inside someone’s house? It seems so silly.”

  “I don’t know why—it’s an undead thing. Whatever. The important thing is that you stay inside tonight, just stay in my room, that’s the safest—then Vincent can’t touch you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding to myself. “
What about Derek?”

  Lucas didn’t respond.

  “Lucas? What about Derek? He doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t know to stay inside.”

  I could almost see Lucas’s scowl on the other side of the phone. “You’ll have to find a way to keep him inside,” he said in a rumble. “You know him better than me, so you figure it out. But keep him outta my room.”

  “Fine,” I snapped at his tone.

  There was a loaded silence.

  “Are you going to be okay tonight?” I asked. My voice came out as barely a whisper.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. “I’m more worried about you—I hate not being there. You gotta stay inside, all right? In a household, or someone’s room—preferably mine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me, Faith.”

  “I promise,” I said, meaning it.

  “Okay, I gotta go now. I—” He stopped himself from saying something. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Please don’t get hurt.”

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “You either.” He hung up.

  I kept the phone pressed against my ear, somehow hoping that his voice would come back. After a few minutes, I stood, determined not to waste the day away being lonely. I didn’t have any homework, and Lucas and I had already finished the project for humanities, so schoolwork was a no go. I turned and went to the window, wondering if maybe Heather wanted to get breakfast or something.

  But the sight greeting me from the window stopped me dead.

  It was snowing!

  My mouth popped open and I immediately ran downstairs. I launched myself into the frigid air and turned my face to the slategray sky. I did the cliché thing and opened my mouth, catching snowflakes on my tongue. I watched some other people throwing snowballs and staring up at the sky, much like myself.

  It was the first snow, and an early one at that. After the excitement and shock of watching the world go white wore off, I realized I’d never been colder in my life. I ran to my room to gather up the snow gear I had stowed away somewhere.

  I was face first under the bed, reaching for a box in the way back, when my cell phone rang. I banged my head on the bed in my enthusiasm to get to the phone before it stopped ringing, shimmied my way out, and snagged the phone on the very last ring.

  “Hello?” I said, panting slightly.

  “Hey,” said an all too familiar voice.

  “Derek! It’s snowing, did you see?”

  I heard Derek laugh. “Yeah, I saw. I, ah—remember how I said I’d call you at the first snow?”

  “Yes,” I said, even though I didn’t. I’d been trying to block Derek from my mind whenever possible—give him time.

  “Well, I’m calling. And I wanted to know if you want to go with me and some people to go skiing.”

  “Yes!” I said instantly.

  This was perfect, now I could spend the day doing something besides making myself crazy, try to reconcile with Derek, and figure out a way to keep him inside all night.

  I did a little happy dance around the box holding my winter clothes.

  “Great,” Derek said. “Pete and Heather are going, too.”

  I curled my lip, ceasing my happy dance immediately. I really didn’t want to see that guy. But if it meant making up with Derek, I could deal. I’d just act like he wasn’t there.

  “That’s fine,” I said.

  “I would invite Ashley, too, but I figured she wouldn’t want to go after . . .” He trailed off for a moment and then asked gently, “You heard about Mark?”

  I’d only discussed Mark’s “disappearance” briefly with Ashley after the police declared him a missing person, courtesy of the werewolves working undercover on the force. I knew it wasn’t the truth, but it’s not like I could say anything to Ashley about it—not even to ease her pain. Now I still didn’t know what to say. I was such a bad liar.

  “I heard the police report on TV,” I said cautiously.

  “Me too,” Derek said. “I wanted to call you but . . .”

  “It’s fine,” I cut him off, struggling to sound normal. “It doesn’t surprise me, actually. I knew he was into some bad stuff. Drugs, I think.”

  “Oh, man. I had no idea.” Derek exhaled loudly as if purging the negative thoughts. “So, did you, ah . . . want to bring anyone skiing?”

  “Nope.”

  This seemed to make Derek happy because I heard his voice lift when he said, “Pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

  “’Kay,” I replied and hung up.

  I clawed open the box filled with my snow stuff and started layering. Twenty minutes later, I shrugged on my navy blue parka, threw a knit hat over my head, and dashed downstairs. Derek’s car was already in the driveway so I got in and smiled at him. He was beaming back at me—a big improvement over the last time I’d seen him. His familiar energy washed over me, warm and wonderful as the sunrise.

  “Hey,” I breathed.

  “Nice hat,” he said, holding in some laughter. I gave him a light smack on the arm and he handed me a pair of sunglasses.

  “What are these for?” I couldn’t imagine needing sunglasses in this weather.

  “The sun glints off of the snow and makes it blinding,” Derek explained.

  “Oh . . . right. Thanks.”

  Derek took off, and I rolled down the window because it was hot with all the layers.

  He got onto the expressway, and I asked, “How long of a drive is it?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Oh . . .” I began to fret over the timing of this little trip.

  “That a problem?” Derek asked, sensing that there was something wrong.

  “No, it’s just that I have to be back before nightfall.”

  “Nightfall?” he asked, looking slightly incredulous. “Why?”

  I searched for an excuse, but came up with nothing. I should have planned this out beforehand. Now I just looked like an idiot.

  “Is it because of that guy you’ve been seeing?” Derek asked, annoyed. “You and him have a date or something?”

  “No,” I said hastily. “And I’m not seeing him; we’re just friends.”

  “Uh-huh.” Derek sounded disbelieving. “Courtney says you never come home anymore.”

  “How would you know? I thought you weren’t dating her anymore.”

  “I’m not. I just talk to her sometimes. Jeez.”

  I looked away, silent.

  “What do you see in that guy anyway?” Derek asked.

  “Lucas?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m assuming that’s the only guy you’re seeing. Maybe I’m wrong.”

  I shot him a dirty look. “I’m not seeing anyone. And Lucas is different than he looks.”

  Derek glanced at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I like him. And he’s a nice guy, so lay off, okay?”

  “You like him?”

  “Yes, Derek. I like him. Wipe that shocked look off your face and get over yourself. Some people aren’t what they seem once you get to know them.”

  “And you know him?” Derek questioned me savagely.

  “I do.”

  Derek squinted at the windshield for a long moment.

  “I don’t like this, Faith,” he said at last. “I don’t like you spending so much time around him.”

  “Look, Derek, you stopped talking to me. You can’t expect my life to just freeze because you decided to forget I exist.”

  I saw Derek’s mouth clamp shut. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I just don’t think he’s good for you. There’s something about him I don’t like.”

  Hmm, could it possibly be that he’s a werewolf who has to constantly suppress the overwhelming instinct to kill me?

  I turned away from Derek, angry that he was right and not willing to lie to tell him otherwise.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said finally. “We’re just friends.”

  We were both silent.


  “I didn’t invite you out here to fight,” Derek said at last. “Let’s just forget it, okay? You can date whoever you like.”

  “I’m not—,” I cut myself off. There was no point in denying it. Derek wouldn’t believe me anyway—not when he knew I was sleeping at Lucas’s place. I had to admit, if it had been the other way around, I wouldn’t have believed Derek.

  For the rest of the trip, we were content to talk about normal stuff. We fell into that easy, effortless rhythm we had together that always made me wonder whether Derek could read my mind. There was something calming in the way we got along—when we were getting along—that had always drawn me to him. It made my world feel at ease and soothed the worries plaguing my thoughts. We talked about completely normal stuff: football and classes and Halloween—minus the werewolves—and our families.

  Derek admitted that computer engineering wasn’t what he’d thought, and he’d switched to exercise science—an idea he’d gotten from me months ago on the La Poudre. He said he’d decided on physical therapy and although I teased him about it to no end, I actually thought it was a perfect fit for him. Derek had always loved sports of every kind, and he was a complete gym rat. But beyond that, I knew his caring nature would be what made this the right track for him. While I’d been scared and intimidated by the thought of rehabilitating war vets or elderly people who’d fallen, I knew Derek would have no trouble. He always knew exactly what to say when I was feeling down or discouraged. Even Derek’s parents—who weren’t exactly the nicest people in the world—were supportive.

  We were both smiling again by the time we reached the ski rental place. Pete and Heather were already there. After throwing Pete my best I-hate-you glare, we all headed into the ski rental store to get fitted with boots and helmets and all the other necessary items to avoid killing ourselves on the slopes. About half an hour into it, Derek and Pete had separated themselves to go stare at the snowboard section and act like they knew what they were doing. Meanwhile, Heather and I sat on a worn wooden bench, trying on boots.

  “So . . . ” Heather said.

  I let out a puff of laughter. “So what?”

  She tugged on her boot buckle and looked over at me, trying too hard to smother a smile.