Moon Shadows

by Neena Jaydon

  "How boring is this going to be?"

  The kitchen table sat almost accusingly empty in the corner of his eye. He pictured Theo filling up some of that space, listening to him talk. He turned his head and tried that image on the couch instead. Theo, back against the cushions and knees bent before him, flipping through a magazine or playing a game on his tablet.

  Theo, pointing at him and laying claim.

  "Jesus." Max numbly set the juice carton aside. He got to his feet, rubbing his arms. "I didn't even think of calling anybody else. It wouldn't have to be Theo." The kitchen and the living room together gave him just enough room to pace. "It wouldn't have to be Theo." He paused by the sink, running both hands through his hair and letting them come to a rest on his nape. "Would it?"

  Max abandoned his laptop and his pacing both to sit on the couch and stare at his darkened TV screen. He definitely wasn't going back to sleep now.

  *~*~*

  "Max?" Anastasia's voice snuck through the roar of his vacuum cleaner. He didn't stop until he'd finished the circuit of his living room, then turned it off. When he turned and looked at her, she was leaning against the wall, her eyebrows raised. He pretended not to notice as he walked past into the kitchen. He grabbed the dishcloth and started scrubbing the table.

  "Something wrong?"

  "What's up, Ana?" he asked shortly.

  "I went to see Louis Wilson a couple of days ago, and I thought I'd tell you about it. Max, what's going on?"

  "What's it look like? I've got some spare time this afternoon, so I'm cleaning up my place."

  "You're cleaning up a clean place."

  Max stopped and leaned on the table with both hands. "I'm probably a terrible person," he muttered.

  "Probably," Anastasia said brightly.

  He made a face and resumed scrubbing. "I think I've let Theo think things are more than they are."

  Anastasia abruptly moved to sit in one of the chairs, setting her elbows on the table.

  "Don't tell me your commitment allergy's acting up again."

  "Ana..."

  "No, seriously. Theo's wonderful. Why don't you want to keep him?"

  "I don't keep anybody. I don't get kept, either. We've got secrets in this family, Ana, we can't..." He has family secrets too. He gets it. Max threw the dishcloth at the sink, irritated. "I don't want a boyfriend."

  "Tough, you've got one. Poor you."

  "Ana..." Max settled into a chair himself. "So what happened with Louis?"

  "It was just as I thought." Anastasia drooped a little, a crease forming in her forehead. "Which is scary. He was a portal for one of those shadows, like I was. From what he said, he's sensitive to spirits. They must be using mediums."

  "Jesus. Well, that one did come here, where there are three of us." Max drummed his fingers on the table.

  "Why do you have the TV on with the sound off?" Anastasia frowned. "I haven't seen you do that in a while."

  Before she could go on to guess that his nightmares had returned—he used to use the TV screen to make himself feel less alone—Max got up to turn the TV off.

  "Wait, take it off mute," she said, her tone suddenly urgent. "They're talking about Fort Rivers."

  "What?"

  The noon news break was reporting on the mysterious comas in Fort Rivers, and how neither the police nor the doctors could find an explanation. Although none of the information was new to him, Max listened in silence to the entire report. Once it was over, Max spun around, and they stared at each other.

  "Holy shit," Anastasia said. "Do you think Mom saw that?"

  "Doubt it. But I think we'd better talk about this one as a family." Max said that through instinctive reluctance, because he didn't want to upset their mother again. "God, I'd better call Theo. Jesus, Ana, we've never seen anything like this before."

  "Yeah." She squared her shoulders. "So who gets to tell Mom?"

  They looked into each other's eyes. Max solemnly held out a clenched fist. Without hesitation she did the same.

  "Rock, paper, scissors..."

  *~*~*

  Kelsie unbuckled the shackles around Adrian's thick wrists, then smiled and patted him on the cheek.

  "You didn't break them this time."

  "It was close, babe." He chuckled, lifting his head to meet her when she dipped down for a quick kiss. "That was awesome."

  "Mm." She climbed off of him and found her housecoat.

  He let out a heavy exhalation, tucking his hands behind his head and grinning up at the ceiling. Then his mouth shifted into a grimace. "This is such a shithole."

  "And whose fault is that?" She went to get herself a glass of water, gazing out the gap between the curtains at the drab motel parking lot.

  "Theofanis', of course." His tone sharpened defensively.

  "No, it's not."

  "Hey, whose side are you on?"

  "Yours. That doesn't mean I can't tell when you're being a jerk." She sniffed, then took a deeper whiff. "I swear Fort Rivers smells different than it used to."

  "Still stinks like pulp mill to me." Adrian sullenly got up. She winced as the bed springs creaked piercingly.

  "Not just that. Under it. Something kind of weird."

  "How can Theofanis figure he can just kick us out like that?"

  She'd clearly lost his attention. Adrian's childishness was at times endearing, at others frustrating. But she gave up anyway, because all she had was a faint uneasiness. She was too pure a werewolf to worry bones that might not even exist.

  "You know what you have to do."

  "Like hell."

  "Ade, just go apologize. That's all Theofanis wants. What do you expect? You disrespected him in his own house."

  "I didn't disrespect him, it was the monkey I—"

  "Same thing. For crying out loud, Babe, just go over and apologize."

  "All right, already." Adrian spread his arms and fell back on the bed, making it shriek. "I'll go tomorrow."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Last Quarter

  Max could generally resist his mother's attempts to over-feed him, but not during Thanksgiving dinner. He escaped before he could get tempted into more pie and whipped cream. It was still only early evening, but his over-stuffed stomach wanted him to lie down, so he went to his trailer to collapse onto his bed.

  I should have invited Theo. I know he likes Mom's cooking. He hadn't wanted to, because he still wasn't completely comfortable with how things were going. Having Theo over for a holiday dinner with the family would have felt intimate when he wasn't ready for that. I wonder what he does for Thanksgiving. He blinked rapidly for a moment. He had a life before he met me, right? He rolled onto his side and jammed a pillow into the crook of his arm, irritated. I still can't make up my mind about you, you nerdy werewolf. Max let his body's heaviness sink into his mind and take him away from his annoyance.

  He woke abruptly, as he often did with naps, with a racing heart and no idea what time of day it was. He reached for his cell, didn't find it by the lamp, and then realized he was still fully dressed. His phone was a lump against his thigh when he patted his jeans. He froze in the process of reaching into his pocket for it. Cold sweat sprang up on his skin, and pins and needles spread across the back of his neck. Dreading to see what he knew must be there, Max looked at the foot of his bed.

  A shadow stood there, staring at him.

  "Jesus!" Max lunged clumsily upward, fumbling at the window next to his bed. He shoved it open. Watching the shadow, he put one leg through the window. Its head tilted as if in question. Unnerved, Max awkwardly yanked his other leg through. The windowsill struck him in the ribs as he slithered out backward. Then gravity took hold. His legs wouldn't hold him as he hit the packed dirt under his window. He sat down hard. Ignoring the pain spiking in both ankles, he scrambled to his feet.

  The house, got to—no, the kennels are closer!

  The shadow flickered into being next to him. Hissing a curse, Max barely dodged its grasp. Its ill-formed fing
ertips brushed his neck. He ran into bright light and nearly lost his orientation. The dogs in the kennels began barking, and he tried to follow that sound. Then the light was extinguished, and he heard a truck door slam.

  Who the hell? Just as Max spotted the tall figure walking his way, his wrist was taken in a vise grip by the spirit.

  "Hey. It's just me, Theofanis' cousin. Adrian. I wanted to—"

  "Get out of here!" Max yelled, trying to pry those inhuman fingers free. The shadow grew too close. He could see the strange bumps of its unformed face bare centimetres from his own. "I am not a vessel for you. I am not a vessel for you. Ah, shit!" The shadow pressed its free hand against Max's chest. Its fingertips sank through. He felt them approach his core with unreasonable ease.

  "What the hell's that?" Adrian's voice, accompanied by heavy boot steps, came closer.

  "No! Adrian, go—get inside!" Max lost traction and fell onto his back. The shadow went with him, pinning his wrist to the ground. He tried futilely to wrestle its hand away from his chest. Its skin was like polished stone, cold and impenetrable. He couldn't get a hold of it.

  "Hey, get off him!" Adrian seized the shadow by the shoulders. It pulled free of Max long enough to shove Adrian away. Adrian flew backward and landed like a sack of potatoes. He pushed himself up and shook his head.

  As Max tried to break free, he saw with surreal clarity the sudden fear on Adrian's face. The shadow pressed both hands through Max's flesh and into his mind. Max's jaw tightened, and his thoughts went dim. At the same time, he kept his gaze on Adrian.

  "Go," he mumbled. "Or—or change—" Bearing down with his will, he was only able to slow the shadow a little. Max tried to bring the concentration of a chant together and couldn't manage it. His body grew distant from him, barely blinking at the sudden explosion of light nearby. The kennels went abruptly silent.

  He heard Adrian before he saw him. His growl was bass and chilling. It preceded the action by only a moment. Then there was a storm of activity above him. Max's breath exploded from him as a massive paw stomped firmly on his stomach. The shadow tore away from him, leaving him winded and nauseous.

  "Hello?" It was Anastasia's voice, distant. Then the squeak of the screen door closing. "Hello?"

  "Ana, don't." Max didn't have the breath to speak loudly. He could still hear snarling and thrashing, sounding like it was coming from near his trailer. His muscles protested as he dragged himself to his feet. One of his ankles resisted his weight. He limped to Adrian's truck.

  "Max? Is that you?"

  "Be careful. One of those things is here." Max saw her silhouette, backed by the porch light, come around the front of the pickup.

  "No way. Where?" She hurried to his side, looking around nervously. "Whose truck is this?"

  "Just a friend's."

  "So where's the friend?"

  "In my trailer. Ana, we'd better get inside the house."

  "But what about your friend?"

  "He's, uh, not a medium. I'll call him when we get inside. Come on." He gave her a gentle push. His entire body tingled unpleasantly, one of his ankles throbbed, and he dearly wanted to sit down. He was also afraid dinner was about to abandon him.

  "Wait." She resisted his guidance. "Why are there clothes on the ground?"

  "You know you shouldn't ask me those kinds of questions," he tried, his heart stuttering. "Ana, in the house. Now."

  "Max," she said, inhaling sharply. "You're not—"

  "In the house, for fuck's sake! We're not safe out here!" He limped quickly, pushing her ahead of him the short distance to the stairs. When he glanced back, he saw a huge four-legged shadow slip behind the pickup truck. He swallowed hard.

  "Max, tell me what's going on." Anastasia turned the moment they were inside the hall. Dad leaned out of the living room and frowned at them.

  "I will. I will." Max heard a heavy tread on the stairs. "I just have to talk to my friend first, okay? Then I think we'd..." He stopped to swallow hard, this time to fight down nausea. "We'd better have a family meeting. Go tell Mom, okay?"

  "Okay." Anastasia narrowed her eyes at him. "Are there more kinds of shadows now?"

  "Eh? Why?"

  "I swear I saw a big animal. Like a bear or something. In the trees by your trailer."

  "I don't know. I didn't see that."

  "Huh." Anastasia, with obvious reluctance, went to talk to Dad.

  Max stepped outside to find Adrian waiting, fully clothed, on the porch. Some of the big man's confidence seemed to have abandoned him; his gaze was unsteady despite the calm way he stood with his hands in his back pockets.

  "Not that I don't appreciate the save," Max said under his breath, "but what are you doing here?"

  "What the hell was that thing?" Adrian spoke at normal human volume, which possibly was his method of whispering. "What was it doing to you?"

  "It was a ghost trying to possess me. How do you even know where I live?"

  "You got a webpage for this place. It wasn't hard to figure out. Not so many dog trainers in town. Most of 'em are chicks." Adrian shrugged. "Look, I got a favour to ask."

  "You're in a good position to do it," Max said, laughing curtly. "What is it?"

  "I want you to tell Theofanis to let me and Kelsie back into his house. He seems to have it pretty bad for you. I bet he'll listen."

  Max eyed him for a moment. His blood was still surging, but the bits of him that were trying to remain calm pointed out how unfair it would be to refuse at this point. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

  "Did the, uh, lady—did she see me?" Adrian did lower his voice more, not quite getting it to a discreet level.

  "Sort of. Just sort of."

  "Shit." Adrian abruptly glared off into the trees.

  "I think it'll be okay. It's not exactly going to be her first guess."

  Adrian turned a narrow look on him. "So what's your deal, monkey? With all this ghost shit?"

  Max sighed. "Again, I appreciate the help. But I think you'd better leave. My family and I have some important things to talk about."

  "Like really creepy ghosts grabbing you?"

  "Exactly. I'll talk to Theo tonight, I promise. Just..."

  "All right." Adrian nodded in a businesslike manner and clomped off to his truck. Max stepped backward into the house, holding the screen door open and leaning out long enough to see the truck drive off. Then he went to the living room to deal with this before it all got to him.

  *~*~*

  Theo knew who it was by the smell, of course. He opened the door and crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. Adrian tilted his head, his mouth working.

  "What?" Theo snapped.

  "We gotta talk."

  "You think?"

  Adrian gave him a sour look. Theo relented and stepped away from the door, letting Adrian in. He pointedly didn't pour coffee for Adrian as they sat at the kitchen table.

  "What's with the Shevchenko guy?"

  "What do you mean?" Theo instinctively bristled.

  "I went over to his place."

  "You what?" Theo leaned forward. "Why would you—"

  "You're dating a monkey. I got to check him out." Adrian leaned back in the chair, raising his eyebrows. His hooded eyes, as usual, showed no remorse. "You're my baby cousin, what do you expect?"

  "You to butt out." Theo groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. "What happened?"

  "Seriously, what is with that guy? I found him with this, like...you're never going to believe this, but he was with a ghost."

  Theo's blood ran cold. "Is he—?"

  "He seemed okay. The ghost thing ran away from me." Adrian shook himself. "Creepy as hell."

  "Jesus, Ade."

  "What do you see in that guy, anyways?"

  "N-none of your business." Theo saw Adrian's lips quirk at the stammer, and he blushed.

  "So he knows you're a werewolf, you know he gets beat up by Casper. Holy crap." Adrian shook his head slowly. "What would Grandmother say?"


  "Beat up? You're sure he's okay?"

  "He'll live." Adrian shrugged. "Except..."

  "Except what?" Theo nearly leapt from his chair, fumbling for his cell.

  "I think somebody else at his place might've spotted me." Adrian abruptly found his hands interesting. "Can you cover for me?"

  "Adrian, for fuck's sake—" You're the older one. You're supposed to be the one taking care of me. Not causing me headaches. "Get out of here."

  "You'll make sure, right? That nobody else knows?"

  "Fine, whatever. I just don't want to be around you any more tonight." The cell vibrated in Theo's hand; he hastily answered it, pointing to the door. Go, he mouthed at Adrian. "Max?"

  "Theo. Sorry, I just..." Max's voice tugged at him with its lack of vigour. It was nearly hoarse, barely recognizable. "Could you come over tonight?"

  "Of course." Theo glared at Adrian as he left the kitchen too slowly for his taste. "Of course, Max. I'll be right over."

  *~*~*

  Theo had yet to set foot inside Max's trailer. If he wasn't worried, he would have been curious. So far he'd only seen Max's family's spaces.

  When he knocked, Max called him in. Theo stepped into a very tidy white kitchen with blond cupboards and counters. It was a typical trailer, with a hallway leading away from the kitchen on one side and a living room opening up from it on the other. Max sat on a subdued blue couch, a beer in hand, looking at the laptop on the glass coffee table. He closed the laptop and set the beer aside, rubbing his hands on his jeans as he looked up at Theo.

  "Hey," Theo said, slipping out of shoes and coat. He put the coat over the back of a chair and hesitated.

  "Thanks for coming." Max's voice was subdued.

  "Of course." Theo drew closer and saw that one of Max's pant legs was rolled up. His ankle was bound up in fleshy tensor bandaging. "Are you okay?" He quickly sat down next to Max and put a hand on the injured leg.

  "Mm." Max, lifting the beer, was caught mid-swig. "I think I just sprained it."