They had just ruined everything.
Not to mention the way they were acting made me wonder if they were even snobbier than I had ever imagined.
"I'm going to walk Krista back to her dorm. I'll see you in the morning."
Chapter 16
Krista
I walked as quickly as I could, knowing he would come after me. I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want to make his parents hate me even more than they already did.
"Dean. It's fine."
"No, it's not Krista."
Dean raked his hand through his hair beside me. I didn’t even slow down a tiny bit. A bird swooped in through our path. I wondered if it was there for me.
"They weren't going to let me come. You know that. Just let it go. It's only five days."
He stopped walking and grabbed my arm, turning to face me. I sighed heavily at the look on his face. He was in pain.
I could feel it. And I couldn’t do anything about it.
Just because Dean was so wonderful, didn't mean his parents were. He took my shoulders, pulling me towards him.
"I want you with me."
"They don't approve of me, Dean. Look how they just reacted. They will never approve of us... My background is too different. You aren't going to be able to change their minds. I can tell."
"Why wouldn't they like you? It makes no sense."
I shrugged. It didn't matter why really. There was no way around it. My boyfriend’s parents had taken an immediate dislike to me.
It was easy to understand. I wasn’t a perfect, manicured girl with a pedigree. I was the poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks with a twang in my voice. Why would they want their rich, handsome son to choose someone like me?
But he had chosen me. And there was nothing they could do about it.
We were just going to have to work around them.
I had to get him to understand. Nothing would tear us apart. But we needed to pick our battles.
"It's okay, Dean. Really. I need to see my Gran."
He looked crestfallen. As if he'd been ready for a fight. Looking forward to it even. I knew he didn't like to be away from me for a whole day, let alone almost an entire week.
"You're sure?"
I cupped his cheek, trying to reassure him. He was upset enough as it was.
"Yes, I'm sure. I couldn't have come for more than a day or two anyway."
He stared into my eyes for a long minute then nodded. He pulled me into his strong arms and kissed me passionately, standing in full view of anyone who walked past my dorm.
It reminded me of the way he had pulled me against his side after the game. It was almost like he was showing off. Claiming me.
He picked me up and twirled me in a circle, making me let out a squeal.
"But you are coming home with me for Christmas. I'm going to spoil you rotten. Our housekeeper makes the best pumpkin pie.”
I giggled against his shoulder. I knew he meant it. And I would love to be there with him, even if it was a little weird that he had a housekeeper who cooked Thanksgiving dinner for them.
He set me on my feet again, staring down at me intently.
"Promise me, Krista."
"Okay, I promise."
I stepped just inside the door, sighing as I watched him walk away. He looked back over his shoulder at me. Twice.
I pressed my fingertips to the cool glass. He looked so lost. I knew exactly how he felt. Like the other half of me was walking away.
I was going to miss him too.
Chapter 17
Dean
I stared open mouthed at my father.
"You knew this could happen?"
After three days of sullen dinners and barely talking, my father had brought me into his study for 'a talk.'
I was surprised as hell at what he had to say.
My father poured himself another of what was probably his third or fourth bourbon and stared out the window of his study. I frowned, wondering what he wanted to talk about. It couldn’t be good. He didn't usually drink so much. I knew my mother didn’t approve of heavy drinking anyway, so I never thought twice about it. He was the kind of guy who liked to stay in control at all times.
It had never occurred to me before that my father might have a very good reason for that.
He took a deep swig of the drink and then another. Clearly, he needed the liquid courage to get through this conversation. Now, I understood why.
"We tried to keep you from it, Dean. To protect you until you were ready.
“Ready? Who could be ready to turn into a werewolf?”
“Not ready exactly. But… mature enough to understand. As my own father protected me."
I stared at my father's back, trying to control my rising temper. It didn't work. I jumped up, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around to face me.
"You knew this could happen and you didn't warn me?"
Garrett Westen held up his hands in surrender.
"How could we know you would find one of - of them? There are so few left. I thought they were all gone. And our line has been diluted over the years. Deliberately, I might add."
"One of what, Dad?"
My father backed away from me slowly.
"That girl. The one you've been seeing. Don't tell me she isn't involved in this."
I clenched my fists. He was bringing Krista into this. That made my anger triple almost instantly.
No. It quadrupled.
"What about her?"
"She's trash, son. She's just a low-class witch."
I rushed forward, looming over my father. Suddenly, he seemed very small to me. Weak. He'd never turned. He didn't have half an ounce of my power.
“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again."
I lifted my fist and grabbed my father’s shirt, yanking him forward. Bourbon splashed all over him and the rug. I stopped, realizing I was on the brink of beating the living crap out of my dad.
God knows he deserved it.
"In fact, never speak of her at all."
"Dean! Garrett!"
My mother's voice cracked out like a whip.
"Let go of your father this instant."
Slowly, never breaking eye contact, I lowered my fist. I turned and saw my mother looking at me sternly.
"Come. Now."
She turned and left the room without looking to see if I had followed. I was tempted to leave. Just go and never come back. Krista and I would be fine without my family money. We'd manage. If I signed a proball contract, we would do much better than just getting by.
It would be better with just the two of us anyway. I didn’t trust my own family at this moment. I didn’t trust them one bit.
I cursed and followed my mother out of the house. I owed her a chance to speak her peace. Plus, I wanted answers.
My father had been too upset and boozed up to actually tell me anything useful.
"Here."
My mother handed me an axe.
"What's this for?"
"You look like you need to destroy something. I need this Rose of Sharon removed. Then we can talk."
I stared at her, then took the axe. I stared at the huge green hibiscus. In late summer it was usually covered with tiny pink flowers. Pretty, but invasive and very hard to get rid of.
Twenty minutes later I was covered in sweat. The ten foot bush was gone, and so was some of my rage.
But nowhere near all of it.
My mother brought out a tray of iced tea and sat in one of the Adirondack chairs under the huge oak in the far corner of the yard. I walked over there, dropping the axe at her feet. She said nothing, just raised an eyebrow at me and held out a frosty glass. I took the glass from her grudgingly.
"You're burning up."
I shrugged, finishing the cool drink in one gulp.
"It's hot out."
"It's forty degrees, Dean.”
She pulled her jacket tighter around herself and stared up me.
"Sit down
for Christ’s sake."
I grunted and did as she asked. I knew that if I was going to get any straight answers, they were going to come from my mother. Pamela Westen always did wear the pants in the family.
"Your father is the same way. Always hot. I used to think it was romantic, like having my own personal furnace. Until your grandmother told me why."
I said nothing. I just waited. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what I heard.
"Listen, Dean. You have to believe we had your best interests in mind. We were trying to protect you. The family has carefully bred itself for centuries to weaken the strain. Obviously, it's more potent than we thought. Or maybe you're something special. A throwback."
“Great. Lucky me.”
She took a deep breath.
“Nobody thinks this is good luck, Dean. And… I don't think it can be stopped. "
"It?"
"The blood. It's something in the blood. That's why you've only seen one doctor since you were born, son. Plus, you never really needed one, healthy as you are. We didn't want anyone to treat you like some sort of a freak."
My lips twisted in a sardonic smile.
"But I am a freak, mother. I'm a monster. And only one person can help me."
Her hand came down on my forearm, cool and soothing.
"No. You are a wonderful boy. You always have been. This... disease doesn't change that. But now that this thing is unleashed... well, there's nothing that can be done."
She sighed deeply.
"You've changed already?"
I nodded.
"I think so. Maybe not completely. Not when I'm awake."
"The dreams... your father had them once. A beautiful woman was there with him. He used to call her name in his sleep. But he never admitted it when he was awake. Still, I knew. I hated her for a long time."
“Who was she?”
“I think she must have been your friend’s mother. There are so few of them left.”
“Them?”
“Witches. The real ones, anyway.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Anyway, it didn’t matter. I got the doctor to give him sleeping pills."
She put her hand on my arm, serious again.
"But you've chosen to face the dreams... and you'll need the girl to do it. I don't know how long you'll be able to keep her safe but without her, the strain will take over. You won't be able to control it."
"What do you mean 'keep her safe'?"
"I thought your father told you.”
"What do you mean, Mother?"
I felt rage bubble up from my bones. My teeth were sharpening, my muscles starting to bulge. I growled at her, needing to know the answer, fear clawing at my insides.
My mother shrank back in her chair, clearly terrified. But she didn't run. She must have known I wouldn't hurt her.
"The girl. She's in danger too."
"What do you mean?"
"There are others like you son. They would do anything to have one of the originals like her… like Krista. There are hardly any left alive.”
"A witch? She doesn’t act like one.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know what she is yet either. It takes a witch to trigger the curse and it takes a witch to control it.”
I stared at her, shocked at what I was hearing. Krista was part of this... a bigger part than I'd imagined.
“But she’s so sweet. So gentle. That’s why I couldn’t stand the way you treated her.”
“I know, son. It’s nothing against the girl, or where she came from.”
I sagged in relief. My mother had her snobby moments, but she wasn’t cruel.
“She's from a long line of potent witches. She must have unlocked the strain. She probably can do other things too, though I doubt she knows any of it. Her kind has been decimated by the Northern Tribes."
"Tribes?"
“Yes. There are others. And many of them are dangerous. Extremely so.”
“Tell me. I need to know what we are up against.”
"There's so much that I don't know son. We didn't need to think about it. Your father's curse was never triggered. He never sought out the witch from his dreams. His dreammate.”
“Dreammate?”
“That’s what your grandmother called it. The bond between the two lines. It’s something like… destiny, I guess.”
I stared at her, my mind in a whir. One thing I did know, my mother was telling the truth. And she seemed truly sorry about the situation Krista and I found ourselves in.
In fact, she was acting like I was already gone.
"I'm so sorry. We thought about not having children... or adopting. We didn't want anyone else to suffer through this.”
She looked at me, her cool hand cupping my cheek.
"But we wanted you so badly. And I don't regret it. Truly. I just wish I could tell you more. I wish I could… help you.”
I stared at my mother. She still loved me, freak that I was. She was on my side. Her reaction to Krista had been born from that.
My father on the other hand... I had a feeling he was jealous. He loved my mother, but the connection I had with Krista was profound. I'd embraced my dreammate. Something he'd never had the courage to do.
"That's all you know? Is there anyone else I can ask?"
She shook her head.
"Not since your Grandmother passed. I do know that there are others and that they are dangerous. Far more than you can imagine. They killed your grandfather, Dean. Even though he never turned. It was... incredibly gruesome."
I closed my eyes. This was worse than I imagined.
"What do they want with Krista?"
"They will want to use her to awaken the next generation. And the next. Her kind have hidden themselves for a reason, just like we have."
"So, I'll protect her."
"It might already be too late. They aren't like you, Dean. They aren't good. They're cruel, ferocious. There are dozens of them. They haven't fought the disease. They've embraced it."
She looked at me solemnly.
"They thrive on the kill."
Chapter 18
Krista
I stood in the center of my tiny, cozy room. Everything was the same as it had ever been, even my quilt. I'd brought it home with me, unwilling to leave it unprotected in my dorm for even a few days.
If Gran had seen me, she would have had something sarcastic to say. Something about gathering wool and foolishness. But she was already in bed, reading one of her cozy mysteries that she loved so well.
She also didn't know how frightened I was.
I stared at my bed, chewing my bottom lip nervously. I was tired from traveling all day to get home to Gran. But I was also afraid to go to sleep.
For the first time in my life, I was afraid to dream.
I didn't want to see him again. The creature with the gray streak in it's fur. He was visiting me every night now. And lately, he'd been bringing others.
His eyes were wild but intelligent. Cunning. He wasn't just an animal. None of them were.
They were werewolves.
There was no use lying to myself about it now. Werewolves were real. And I was in love with one of them.
The way the ghost faced wolf looked at me though... there was no kindness there. He wanted something from me, and he didn't care who he hurt to get it.
I knew all that, just from looking into his eyes.
I peeled my jeans and t-shirt off and stepped into my old flannel nightgown. There was no use hiding from him. But maybe, if I was clever enough, I could find out who he was. What he wanted.
Why he was haunting me.
Not just haunting.
He was hunting me.
I reached for my phone the moment it beeped. I knew it was Dean. I could feel him, even from far away.
Are you in bed?
I hid a smile, staring at my phone. I knew he wanted to have me beside him. He had a theory that it made us stronger in the dreams.
I did
n’t know if he was right, but I liked sleeping near him too.
How did you know?
Because you are adorably predictable.
I snorted a laugh.
How flattering.
I meant it as a compliment.
A moment went by before he texted me again.
I don’t like being this far away from you.
I know. I’m okay.
Are you sure?
I had to think about that one. I wasn’t really okay. And I think he knew it.
Yes. Goodnight Dean.
Goodnight angel.
I set my phone down and reached for the bedside lamp. I needed sleep. I would just have to risk it. I’d do my best to avoid the others, but either way, I had to rest.
Despite my misgivings I was asleep in what felt like an instant. I'd always been that way. My head hit the pillow and I was out. Of course, I was very much aware of what was happening when I slipped out of my bed.
I was out of my body and on a rocky beach before I knew it.
This time I didn't hesitate. I walked swiftly through the dark countryside toward the huge house. It loomed above me menacingly, and if I hadn’t known I might have ran away.
But I did know. I knew where the stone room was hidden. I'd figured out that it was North. Maine maybe. Or Canada.
Dean wasn't the one drawing me this time though. I could feel the difference in the energy that pulled me. It was dark, seductive, greedy.
It was him.
The ghost faced wolf.
Before I knew it, I was in the house again, wandering it's dark halls. It was a stone house, at least two hundred years old. It might even be older than that.
I was turning toward the cellar door when I heard it. It was just a faint echo but it hit me hard, making me sway on my feet. Even in the dream, I could feel my heart hammer in my chest.
A woman's voice.
Moon Bound (Dreamshifters Book 2) Page 6