Cold Moon

by Tess Grant

  “Look,” he said after thirty seconds or so. “I owe you an explanation.”

  Explanation?

  “About why I let you do all the hard stuff.” He put his ball cap back on his head, the pinched brim making it ride high.

  “What hard stuff?”

  Mr. Zubowicz unbuttoned his shirt cuff and started rolling up his sleeve.

  Kitty had to stop him. It felt weird—this crazy sense she was going to see him naked. She shoved her hand toward him at the same time he pushed his arm her way. Instead of avoiding contact, her hand smacked into his wrist and she stopped dead as she saw the four faded scars coursing up his arm. She’d seen them before when she and Joe had been little kids. They had joked about them; they were racetracks for ants or the leftovers of mutant poison ivy.

  Now in a split second she knew the truth. She’d seen too much, experienced what really lay in the backwoods surrounding Oakmont.

  Wrapping her fingers around his wrist, she pulled his arm into the florescent light of the workbench lamp. Her fingers hooked into claws, and she traced them down the white lines. Phinney had saved her from the wolves. He’d said he’d done it for others too. Others who weren’t able to become hunters. “These are from—” she started.

  Mr. Zubowicz interrupted. “I can’t go out there, Kitty. I know I should be stepping up, taking over, but I can’t. I feel like scum letting you do this.”

  “How’d it happen?”

  Mr. Z. rocked from one foot to the other. “My brother was a forest ranger. Kevin was his partner.”

  Kevin. The name tickled deep in her brain. She’d forgotten to ask her dad about him.

  “One full moon this lumberjack went missing in the national forest and Joe went after him. It was his job.” Mr. Z’s gaze roved around the workshop, ricocheting off equipment and never staying anywhere very long. “The paper said Joe wouldn’t let Kevin go along, but Kevin had started hunting with Phinney at that point, and those two were out in the woods together.”

  Kitty’s eyes hit on the obituary still tacked to the calendar and she nodded as pieces came together. The obit said Kevin Irish had been Joe’s partner—another park ranger. Phinney had told her that Kevin had been his first and only assistant until Kitty came along. She hadn’t realized the two were actually the same person. Kevin Irish. The irritation felt like the itch of poison ivy—why didn’t she know him?

  The pace of Mr. Z’s words sped up. “Kevin and Phinney were holed up not far from the lumbering camp. When all the hoo-ha started about Joe not coming back in, Phinney sent Kevin after him.” His hand started sliding up and down the white tracks on his forearm. “I was eighteen and I’d already snuck out of the house going after my brother. I wasn’t very good in the woods back then. Kevin caught up with me, said we should stick together.”

  Zubowicz rocked on his feet. “We got to the place where they’d been clearing timber. Big trees. Dark. There was so much blood.” He scrubbed at his arm, his motions nearly frantic. “It was all over everything. The tree stumps, the equipment.” He shook his head like he was bewildered. “This thing was in a lump on the ground. I didn’t even know what it was. Kevin kept pushing me away, wouldn’t let me get close. I think…I know it was Joe.”

  Kitty couldn’t take her eyes off him. He scared her—his rising voice, his nearly hysterical motions, his vacant eyes.

  “We ran for the trees but the wolves…they hit us so hard. We didn’t have a chance. One’s claws…” He scratched at the tracks on his arm. “Kev gave me a shove up a tree. And then the wolves…he…there was so much blood. Mine and Kevin’s and Joe’s.”

  Zubowicz staggered, and Kitty reached for him, afraid he was going to fall. She grabbed the hand digging at the scars, holding it tight. Zubowicz had scratched the old white threads on his forearm until the skin surrounding them bled, and she wrapped her fingers tight around the wounds. The postman stared down at her hands as if he didn’t know where they had come from.

  “What happened?” Kitty prompted gently.

  Mr. Z. continued to stare at her hands wrapped around his own. “Phinney.” He sounded dazed. “Phinney came.”

  Oh yes, Kitty thought, tears pricking hard behind her eyes. I should have known.

  “He killed most of them, chased off the others.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “We swore we’d never go to that place again. Ever. Phinney and me swore. I can’t do it. I can’t go out there.”

  “You don’t have to,” Kitty told him. “I’m not asking you to.”

  Mr. Z’s eyes snapped up to her face, suddenly focusing on her. “You are so much like him,” he said. “Every time your dad looks at you, he must see him.”

  Kitty was only like Phinney in that she’d taken over his job. “What happened to Kevin? Did he die?”

  Mr. Z’s eyes narrowed and he backed toward the door. “I’m sorry I can’t go out there. I’ll do the spotting. I’ll chase the kids off Lookout Point, but I can’t do more than that. I am so sorry.” His hand reached for the door latch and he opened it.

  Kitty stepped forward, reaching for him. She wanted to know about the man who shared her name. “What happened to him?”

  Zubowicz shuddered. “He was so ripped up. Phinney dragged him into the moonlight to be able to see.” Mr. Z. shut his eyes, almost as if he were praying. “Everything healed.”

  Like Phinney’s arm.

  “Phinney told him to run.” The door slapped shut and Joe’s dad was gone.

  Kitty stood alone in the center of the little room for a long time. She brooded over sterile claws and toxin-coated teeth and a man who had gone on the run over twenty years before. Finally she noticed the blood on her fingers and wiped them clean on the back of her jeans. Then she returned to the maps and the Harris coordinates. Her index finger traced the clean square on the map. Now she understood.

  It had been quarantined.

  We swore we’d never go to that place again.

  Austin Harris had camped out in a hotbed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kitty spent the drive to the mall in silence. Anne chatted enough for both of them. Kitty leaned her head against the cool window watching the raindrops slide past her nose. It also gave her a better look out the side-view mirror at Melville’s headlights fifty feet behind them.

  She shouldn’t have been too surprised. She hadn’t seen him in a while. Maybe some other case had pushed Phinney’s file off his desk. He’d be a fool to try anything with her mother along though. The thought of Anne going toe-to-toe with the big detective made Kitty smile.

  Melville fell somewhere between Jenna and Joe on her list of worries. The impromptu meeting with Jenna had been less than productive. She needed to figure out a new way to approach that problem. Joe—now that he’d decided to show her what he could really do—had come a long way. She should have kissed him a long time ago.

  The biggest problem was the hot zone west of the old cabin. She needed to go there. Why? Why do you need to go there? Leave it alone—the way Phinney did.

  She argued with the voice in her head. Phinney had given her a job, and the job wasn’t done until all the wolves were gone. Nobody had gone into that section of the Manistee for years. Maybe there was nothing there. The Harris killing had been an isolated incident.

  Maybe you’re an idiot and every werewolf in the county hangs out there. Kitty had to admit there was some logic to that thought—at least the second part of it.

  She glanced out the window. The mist from her breath clouded the glass. Pulling her sleeve over her hand, she wiped a peephole. No headlights. Melville must have called it quits once their car passed the city limits.

  Knowing she was trying to distract herself, Kitty ordered her mind back to the subject at hand. She listed out what she absolutely knew to be true about the place quarantined in the woods: One—it would be her first time out alone, and she didn’t know if she was ready to take on whatever was in there. Two—Joe was not ready in any way, shape, or form. Three—and t
his was the biggie—she was scared.

  Phinney, I need you on this one.

  Kitty had not hunted the last two moons, and she couldn’t delay it any longer. She could, however, choose the time and place. She’d hunt all right, but she’d stay close to home. The Melville problem would have to wait until after the full moon.

  She’d taken care of two out of four. What was left? Kitty thought about Joe’s thick coffee-colored hair curling around the cords of muscle in his neck, the glint of white teeth through his half smile. She remembered the way his kiss felt, how his arms wrapped around her. Jarringly the image in her head shifted to Mr. Z., to his arm scored by both werewolf claws and his own fingernails.

  Joe’s dad couldn’t afford to lose him. Neither could Kitty. She would have to tell Joe he couldn’t help.

  That left Jenna. Kitty tapped her fingers on her leg. Maybe there was a way to take care of two birds with one stone in this mess.

  The car lurched to a stop and Kitty looked up surprised. The mall loomed overhead, a gray shadow in the fall rain. Anne grabbed her purse from the seat. “We’ll have to make a run for it. It’s coming down worse than ever.”

  Kitty grabbed her own bag. “Let’s get this done.”

  They opened the doors and dashed out. Kitty leapt a puddle but her mom plowed through splashing and laughing. Flying through the automatic doors as they shot open, they slid into the atrium. The air conditioning was still on, and goose pimples jumped out on Kitty’s arms.

  Anne shook her head laughing and ran her fingers through her short hair, standing it on end in spikes. She started walking. “Let’s go,” she called back over her shoulder. “We need to find you a homecoming dress.”

  ****

  “Oh Kit, that looks perfect.” Anne was rapturous. Four other dresses hung on the hook behind her and three had already been put back on the rack, but her mom seemed like she could slog on all day.

  “Really?” Kitty eyed herself doubtfully in the mirror. The soft dress clung to her, a straight-cut tea-length sheath of pale green. Tiny scrollwork in the same shade worked through the fabric, only visible when she turned into the light. The mandarin collar snugged up against her throat, but the small cap sleeves let a fair amount of upper arm hang out. She checked the side view in the three-way. The skinny skirt made her butt stick out. None of her werewolf chasing had slimmed that down, but at least she had some arm definition.

  Wait until Joe sees you! Some part of her exulted. She did look good.

  “Hold on. I’m going to grab some shoes.” Mom vanished through the door.

  Homecoming was Friday night and she could get out and do the safety zone on…a thought occurred to Kitty. A very bad thought. She grabbed her bag from the corner of the dressing room and pulled out her student planner. They were required items at school these days, although most kids didn’t fill them in. Kitty was no exception. She whipped through the nearly empty book until she found what she was looking for. This month’s calendar already preprinted with dates to remember like Columbus Day, Halloween and the lunar cycle. Planting her thumb carefully in the boxed date for homecoming, she searched the other squares. No little dark circle anywhere. That’s what she had thought. Wincing, she pulled her thumb slowly away from homecoming. There it was, a tiny black circle representing the full moon. For being so small, it wreaked a lot of havoc.

  The doorknob rattled. “Let me in. I found the perfect shoes.”

  Kitty shoved the planner in her bag and tossed it in the corner. She opened the door and her mom pushed by carrying a box. “These are perfect,” she repeated, dropping a tissue paper wad onto the floor and holding out her find.

  Kitty stared dumbstruck. For starters, the heels were silver. Even more horrifying was the fact that they were at least three inches high. She probably wouldn’t get a nosebleed from the height, but she darn sure could fall off and sprain an ankle.

  Mom leaned down and put the shoes on the floor. Kitty slid her foot underneath the three teeny straps. She had to hold the wall to get up on the second shoe. The reflection looked good but then she tried to move. Her baby toe screamed in protest from under one of the straps and she wobbled dangerously.

  “Let’s get those,” her mom said from somewhere behind her. “They look great.”

  “Mom. I can’t walk.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll practice.”

  Kitty’s eyes rolled. “You’re kidding, right?” The thought of staggering around the kitchen in these heels in front of Sam and his buddies didn’t work for her.

  “Oh, you’ll get the hang of it real fast.” Her mother suddenly gasped. “You know what would be gorgeous…remember that Chinese silk jacket we altered this summer? We’ll put that over the top.”

  Teetering on the heels in front of the mirror, Kitty considered asking, What’s this ‘we’ crap?

  Her mother moved into view behind her though and Kitty bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from saying it. She hadn’t seen a smile that big on her mother’s face since before her dad left.

  Far be it from me to burst her bubble. But the jeans crumpled in the corner on top of her flats called out to her, and Kitty made one last feeble stand.

  “This outfit is really expensive, Mom. I don’t feel like we should spend this much money on me. It’s a glorified school dance.”

  “Kit,” her mother said as she started twisting Kitty’s hair up, first into a bun then a French twist, “senior homecoming only comes once in your life. Besides you can wear this outfit for graduation under your gown.”

  Kitty smiled weakly. “Yeah, okay.” She had warmed to her reflection, but she couldn’t imagine the amount of practice it would take before those shoes worked.

  ****

  “Cool shoes,” Sam said thickly, cookie crumbs spraying on the floor. “I think you should save them for dress-up though. They don’t look that good with jeans.”

  Kitty took time out from loading the dishwasher long enough to glare at him.

  “I like them,” Joe said. “They’re a departure from your usual style though. A little more on the Jenna side of things.”

  “Who are you, my fashion consultant?” Kitty closed the dishwasher and pushed the wash button.

  Joe shrugged. “I have a lot of experience checking out what girls wear.”

  “Nice.” Kitty threw a dishtowel at his head. “Thanks for dropping Sam off, but I think you’ve had your say. Let me walk you out.”

  They walked toward the door. She had to admit her mom had been right; already Kitty was better with the heels. She would never run a marathon in them, but with twenty minutes under her belt, she didn’t feel like she would fall off anymore. She slid the shoes off at the door and put on some flip-flops instead. The rain had stopped but the grass was soaked.

  As they walked toward the Escort, Kitty steeled herself. “Joe?”

  He raised his eyebrows in answer.

  “I need to ask you something about…about that situation we’ve been talking about.” She pulled her arms in close and shivered. It was cold out and about to get colder.

  “Yeah,” he said, tugging his keys out of his pocket. “I’m ready. You want to target practice again before Friday?”

  Kitty bit her lip in concentration. Careful. “Umm. Here’s the deal. I’m going out alone.”

  The keys caught on a string inside his pocket, and he twisted them trying to pull them loose. He didn’t even look up. “Okay.”

  Kitty put her hand over his to stop the irritating tug of war. “I don’t think you’re listening. I said you’re not coming.”

  He looked up then, his eyes narrowed. “Kitty, we went through this last month. Is this going to happen every time?”

  “It’s Jenna…I got nowhere with her the other day. Somebody has to keep an eye on her. To make sure she’s not infected.” Her eyes dropped away from his skeptical gaze. Searching for somewhere to land, she found the hand holding his keys. His sweatshirt was pushed up to below his elbow and his forea
rm, all smooth skin and corded muscle, was unmarked. No scars. No pulsing feral beat that meant a parasite had claimed him. Phinney had developed an extra pulse in his forearm once he turned. That unmarked surface fortified her.

  “So you’re going out in the woods and I’m babysitting?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “It is like that. Think fast, Kit, about what it is you want to say ‘cause I’m about to go off.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You tell me this whole story, but you continuously find reasons why I can’t help? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Kitty’s own anger blazed. “I told you because you asked, not because I wanted to. And I never asked you for help, you volunteered. I don’t need your help with this.” As soon as she said the words, she wished they were back in her mouth.

  Joe nodded his head slowly in time to his words. “Okay. Fine. I seem to remember you asking me for help with this homecoming deal though.”

  Kitty didn’t think it was possible for her to feel any worse, but her stomach dropped a little more. “That’s different.”

  “No Kit, it’s not.” He pushed past her to the door of the car. “I guess I’m only good enough when it suits you.”

  She tried to touch his arm, but he swung the car door open, putting it between them.

  “Look, if you don’t need my help, you don’t need it. Find someone else to get you out of hot water. Jenna’s been hinting around for weeks that I should ask her to homecoming, and if I’m hanging out with her anyway, why not?”

  Kitty could see the train wreck coming.

  Joe spoke slowly, bending forward. “You don’t need me. Find another excuse for Friday night.”