Blood on the Moon

by Jennifer Knight

  “It’s not your fault,” I said.

  “I should have told you what they were capable of, especially after what happened with Mark. It was all my fault. It’s a miracle you’re not dead.”

  “Stop it,” I said firmly. “I broke my promise. I was supposed to stay in the room. If I’d done that, I never would have needed to know about their ... mind powers or whatever.”

  He looked away and I slapped the bed next to his head to get him to look back at me. He did so reluctantly, his eyes betraying the mash of torment he held inside.

  “You saved my life,” I said. “I don’t blame you, I’m grateful to you. I just ... I want to know about this world—even the dark stuff. I think it’s important.”

  He eyed me for a long moment and I could see him deliberating in his head. His eyes deepened to brown and I knew I’d won. “What was the question?” he asked.

  “How do vampires make more of themselves?”

  “Well, first they bite you and feed you their blood—”

  I nodded. “And then?”

  “Then they bury you and keep you underground until the next full moon. On that night you’d rise from the earth, a spanking new vampire. But if they bite you and feed you their blood on the full moon, then you turn into a vampire immediately.” He smiled slightly at my dumbstruck expression. “It’s different for us.”

  “How?”

  “With werewolves, it just takes a bite. One bite and you’re just like me.” He bared his teeth in a swift grin, displaying his slightly elongated incisors.

  I laughed nervously. “What if a vampire bites a werewolf? Does it kill you?”

  He shook his head. “It hurts like hell, but it won’t change us or anything. And it definitely won’t kill us—only silver can seriously injure a werewolf.”

  “So,” I asked. “What happens if Vincent bites me, but doesn’t do all that stuff to make me turn? I’ll just die?”

  “He won’t bite you,” he said adamantly.

  “But . . . what if he does?”

  “Then I’ll kill him.”

  I heaved a sigh. “Well, what if he bit some other human being?”

  Lucas scratched his eyebrow, avoiding my gaze. I stared him down and he rolled his eyes. “You’re more stubborn than I am.”

  I smiled proudly.

  “Well,” he said wearily, “if they drain you completely then you’d die, obviously. But if the wound’s not fatal, it won’t kill you.”

  “Well, that’s something,” I said, feeling encouraged. At least there was a chance at surviving a vampire bite.

  Lucas puffed a laugh. “No. It’s not. Vampires have this coating on their teeth like snake venom, but worse.”

  “So, the bite would kill me?”

  “No. I said it was worse.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked irritably.

  “Vampire venom doesn’t kill you. It spreads a paralyzing agent throughout your entire body. If you’re lucky, he’ll have bitten your throat or your groin and you’ll just bleed out and die that way. If you’re not so lucky, you’ll survive the bite, but the venom will make you completely immobile. It usually takes about a week for the victim to expire.”

  “Expire . . . ,” I murmured. Such a sterile word. “So the venom does kill you, then. Just slowly.”

  “No. The venom immobilizes you. If you survive the bite, you starve to death. Or sometimes the pain will do it.” He shook his head slowly. “I always feel sorry for the ones with their eyes stuck open. They can see everybody staring at them, trying to save them, saying their good-byes.”

  I shuddered and then thought about what it must feel like to have my mom standing over my paralyzed body, crying, begging someone to do something. She wouldn’t understand why I couldn’t move, why I was dying. Derek wouldn’t understand either. He’d get angry, start raving. And I would be laying there watching it all. But would I feel better if I couldn’t see them? Stuck laying there, hearing their voices, and longing to see their faces?

  “No,” I said. “I’d want to have my eyes open.... I’d want to see my friends, my family.” I stole a glance at his stony face. “See you.” His eyes flickered to mine and then turned silver. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to . . .”

  “Don’t,” he said. He put a finger to my lips, and my heart flipped over. He was touching me, actually touching my skin, my lips. But he quickly removed his finger and whispered, “Don’t be sorry.” His eyes deepened, the metallic color of them broken by the black of his hair. I reached to sweep it out of his eyes. His face tightened, and I paused. I didn’t want to overwhelm him. Make him change. But he reached up and put my palm to his skin. It was like rubbing my fingers against a sea stone—as though his skin had been polished by the relentless waves of the ocean. But in Lucas’s case, his body was worn away by time. By his immortality. Human imperfections faded year by year until his skin was flawless. It grew warm beneath my touch—hot, even. I pushed the hair away from his face, and I heard his breath shudder in his throat. I withdrew my hand, but he grabbed it.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You can touch me. . . . I can handle it.” His eyes dissolved into that human brown color as though offering proof to his words.

  Carefully I returned my hand to his face and swept it slowly down his neck, his chest. His eyes shifted to silver and stayed that way as he gazed at me. His body grew hotter, almost burning me.

  “You’re hot,” I said.

  He smiled. “Why, thank you.”

  I laughed nervously and said, “I meant your skin. It’s crazy hot.”

  “My temperature rises when I change.”

  I froze, my heart beating harder. He must have seen the fear in my eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m under control. It’s easier after the full moon.”

  I nodded and ran my fingers through his thick, black hair. I looked into his eyes, silver and strange. Like an animal’s eyes. It was so rare to have him look at me like this. I felt as though he was swallowing me up in his gaze.

  “Your eyes are—”

  “Silver? Yeah, I know. It’s why I can’t look at you around people. The eyes are the first to go.”

  I swallowed. Somehow I was closer to him. “And—and the shivering? I’ve seen you shiver before ... like a tremor.”

  “That comes next. I can usually repress it from there, but if you see my fangs drop—”

  “Fangs?”

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “You see them drop, start running and don’t stop for anything.”

  I smoothed my fingers over his eyes. He closed them and sighed, almost like a dog settling in for a long nap.

  “Have you ever killed anyone?” I asked tentatively. “Besides Mark, I mean.”

  He didn’t hesitate. But his eyes opened, slightly pained. “Yeah,” he said.

  “How many?”

  He shook his head, and I knew the number was too great to count.

  “Do you regret it?” I whispered.

  “Not the ones like Mark—the ones who would have hurt others if I hadn’t stopped them.” He lowered his eyes. “But I do regret the accidents. The innocent ones who got too close, got me too angry, and I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stop it.”

  I tried to imagine what it must be like to worry about not killing people every time you were with them. Every time you felt instinct start to take over, having to press it back, so that you don’t feel it at all. So that you don’t kill those around you, the ones you love.

  I put both my hands on his face and inched closer.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “You didn’t ask for this. You can’t help what you are.”

  His voice was hard when he spoke next. “What I am is a murderer. A monster.”

  “No,” I said earnestly. “That’s your curse. But you? You are a person. And people screw up sometimes. The fact that you feel guilty about it just proves how good of a person you are.”

  He turned away, but I held his fa
ce harder, making him look at me.

  “How many people have you saved?” I asked. “You told me that your pack dedicates itself to helping and saving us humans. How many people have you helped? Saved the lives of?”

  He shook his head a little. “That doesn’t take away the people that are dead because of me. Saving others won’t give them their lives back.”

  “No,” I agreed. “It won’t. But it proves that you’re not a monster or a murderer. Those deaths were accidents.”

  “You don’t get it. Those times when I can’t control myself, waiting for something to tip me over the edge—it’s maddening. I spend my life in repression—constantly fighting off the change, until the full moon when I can’t control myself anymore. When the monster takes over.”

  “It must be terrible,” I murmured. My mind flashed to his journal and the gruesome drawings in it. “It’s . . . manageable,” he grumbled.

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m older, so it’s easier for me. I’ve had more time to gain control, to find ways of coping. It’s why I can live this ... seminormal life. Most werewolves can’t do that. A lot of them take to the wild. I guess they think it’s better that way.” His eyes grew distant and blank as though seeing something far away.

  “Are you very old, compared to the others?” I asked.

  “I’m up there. Rolf’s the oldest I know. He’s going on half a millennium.” Lucas smiled at the shock on my face. “He has a measure of control I don’t think I’ll ever have. He’s all but human except for once a month.”

  We fell silent for a moment.

  “When you repress it,” I said, “does it hurt?”

  He shook his head, eyes delving into mine with intensity. “The only thing that hurts is the thought of what I might do to you . . . if I lose control.”

  He was so afraid of hurting me, but I knew Lucas could never do that. He was a protector. A savior. Underneath the layers of anger he put up to keep me back, I knew he was good. I’d seen the vulnerable side he kept hidden, and it had revealed the softness of his heart. This fear of hurting me was so unnecessary, and suddenly I wanted to prove it to him.

  I smoothed my hand across his stubbly cheek and over his lips. He shivered violently and his eyes hit mine. He snatched my hand away.

  “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I know you won’t hurt me.”

  “Faith . . .” His eyes were frightened, pleading.

  I went closer to him and put my hands over his chest, around his neck. Slowly ... so very slowly I pressed my body against his.

  “Stop,” he said. His voice was hoarse. He said the word, but I knew he didn’t want me to stop. I knew he was just scared.

  I put my forehead against his, bringing my lips closer. “You won’t hurt me,” I said again. “I trust you.”

  I brought my lips to his throat and touched them to his skin. It was so hot, but he shivered as though he was freezing. I moved my lips closer toward his and kissed him again along his jaw. I felt a surge of heat under my lips, his temperature rising.

  Suddenly he grabbed me by the waist and pushed me back. He shoved his hands into the sides of his face, digging his fingers into his skull. I heard him take in several deep breaths.

  “Hold on,” he muttered. His eyes were squished shut. He was like that for a long time, and I sat up against the wall. I kept my back to it, staring as Lucas overcame his instinct—his will to change. It was an amazing sight, like watching something wild become tame. But I didn’t understand. Why couldn’t he kiss me when I saw him kissing Courtney with no problem? He seemed to be triggered by some kind of emotional response, but if I’d set him off from the moment he saw me then it didn’t make sense. What emotions could he have had upon merely looking at me? Attraction, perhaps? Could that have triggered him? But if so, then why didn’t he want to change every time he saw a pretty girl? There had to be something else—something he wasn’t saying. What was so different about me? Lucas looked up at me, and his eyes were dark, dark brown. He didn’t come toward me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “We can’t do that, Faith.”

  I peeled myself from the wall and leaned in closer. He held his hand out in front of him. I stopped.

  “I know you won’t hurt me, Lucas.”

  “I won’t mean to hurt you, but I might anyway.”

  I laid down again, sidling closer to him. “No. You won’t. I know you. I know your heart. You can withstand this.”

  “You don’t know how close to death you were just seconds ago. It took every piece of self-restraint I have to tell you no.”

  “Then don’t tell me no,” I said. He looked away, scoffing. I brought my hand to his face, and he didn’t shake me off. “This is new for me, too,” I murmured. “I’ve never felt this way before, either. I’ve never wanted anyone so much. I didn’t even think it was possible. I’ve never believed in ... in something like this. But I feel safe with you. And I know you can control yourself. I know you won’t hurt me.”

  I moved even closer to him before he could push me back. I wrapped myself around him again, and I felt his back stiffen.

  “Are you determined to kill yourself?” he asked in my ear.

  “No. I’m determined to make you see that you’re stronger than you think you are.”

  “Faith . . .” His voice was agonized. “If anything happens. If I lose control—”

  “You won’t. I trust you.”

  He put his hand over my back, clutching me close. I felt the heat of his skin through my clothes and my heart did a flip. His other hand took my cheek, burning me.

  “What if I don’t trust myself?” he whispered.

  I pulled his head toward me and kissed his cheek, my lips just barely touching the corner of his. I kept my lips on his skin, letting him adjust, letting him gain control. Then I kissed the other side of his mouth, lingering ... waiting. I could feel the heat of his skin. I knew I was triggering the change.

  But he didn’t make me stop.

  Instead he took my face in both of his hands and pressed his lips against mine. They were so soft, so warm and perfect. My breath caught in my throat. Then as fast as it had happened it was over.

  He drew back, his face clenched in concentration.

  “Just a sec,” he said. He took in two breaths, keeping his eyes closed. “That was ... amazing.”

  “Yeah,” I said, panting a little. “Can we do it again?”

  His eyes opened and they blazed with silver fire. He brought my face closer and tilted it to the side, kissing along my jaw to my ear. His mouth pulled on my earlobe, and I felt my body go wild with anticipation. I held to his arms and let out a little sound. Lucas shivered, and I felt his lips break into a smile over my cheek.

  “You’re testing me,” he said.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I closed the distance between our lips and kissed him, longer this time. It was perfection—the best kiss of my life. And all I wanted was more. I knitted my fingers through his hair, pressing my body to his and rolling on top of him.

  Then Lucas pushed me away again. His body convulsed and I held his face, looking straight into his eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I said urgently. “Focus. You don’t have to do this. You can overcome it.”

  Lucas swatted my hands from his face, and he was on the other side of the room in an instant.

  “Go,” he said, still shaking. “Go, Faith. Run.”

  “No, I’m not scared.”

  I watched him shake, and shake, trying desperately to stop the change. His face distorted into a snarl, and I heard a low, guttural sound escape his lips.

  “GO!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the wall.

  I started to back up, realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself. I’d pushed him too far. He looked up at me, his eyes tangled in fear and something else ... something wild.

  Then his fangs dropped.

  17

  SUMMONE
D

  Lucas let out a roar so loud my teeth chattered. His body became deformed, arms curling into themselves and fingers cracking into paws. He fell onto all fours. A gigantic shiver rippled down his spine, tearing his clothes and sprouting black hair down to his feet. His face was gone, eyes wide and glowing metallic. And teeth, gnashing at me, dripping with saliva. A low, bubbling growl sounded in his throat; his hot breath filled my nostrils. I pressed myself against the wall, half amazed, half terrified.

  Then the door was pounding. I heard yelling on the other side. It was a man. I prayed it wasn’t Lucas’s next door neighbor coming to complain about the racket we were making.

  “Lucas! Let me in!”

  The wolf barked loudly, and my eyes flickered to the door. The voice out there sounded familiar.

  “Don’t make me break the door, Lucas. Faith, if you’re in there, open the door! NOW!”

  Lucas advanced slowly. In his eyes, there was nothing but savage intent—the instincts of a killer. This was no longer the Lucas I had come to know. This was an animal. And I definitely needed to get away.

  I had only one chance—get to the door. But every time I moved even an inch, he was watching, poised to attack.

  Then I thought of something so crazy it just might work.

  “Lucas?” I said gently. “It’s me. It’s Faith.... I’m getting the door because I think it’s someone who’s going to stop you from eating me.” I started inching off of the bed, coming disconcertingly close to Lucas’s jaws. “Don’t worry,” I said slowly. “I’m just getting the door.”

  “LUCAS! OPEN THE DOOR, DAMN IT!”

  My eyes connected with Lucas’s just before he pounced. Just as I’d hoped, electricity pulsated through my body, shocking me and sending my mind into a haze. In the milliseconds I had while Lucas came at me, I focused on one word, NO!

  I lunged for the door, and Lucas roared after me.

  It hadn’t worked. I could feel Lucas’s hot breath on the back of my neck as I stretched for the door handle. No, no, no! I tried to do what I’d done once before—to create the connection between us, but it wasn’t working.

  Miraculously, I managed to fling the door open, and Julian jumped over me, charging Lucas. They hit each other full on with bone-crunching force. Lucas snapped his jaws at Julian’s neck, but he twisted away at the last moment. I slammed the door shut, hoping to God that nobody was hearing this. They scuffled; Lucas trying desperately to get at me and Julian holding him off with his powerful arms. Finally, Julian held Lucas around his thick, furry throat. Lucas made coughing, hacking sounds as his airway constricted.