Blood Moon

by A. D. Ryan

  “Uh…” I croaked, clenching my eyes and shaking my head. “Go on ahead. I need a minute.”

  He looked down at Mom, who nodded her assent. “Okay,” he agreed. “Do you want to take my car?”

  I shook my head again. “No. I’ll walk or call a cab or something.”

  “You’re sure?” Mom asked, seeming uncertain, but when I assured her I’d prefer to walk the few blocks, she acquiesced.

  Time had no real value once I was alone. Seconds blurred into minutes, and minutes into hours. The only thing that alerted me to the passing time was the setting sun and darkening sky. The sky exploded in a brilliant burst of color before darkening, and soon, the wind picked up, bringing with it the late-autumn chill that traveled up my spine like an icy finger, paralyzing me in place.

  Then Nick’s familiar woodsy scent filled my head, and I felt a slight reprieve. “You’re okay,” I said aloud as he approached, the grass and leaves crunching under his feet. I kept my back to him, still staring down at the fresh grave before me, but my shoulders softened with relief.

  “I am,” Nick responded, coming up behind me and resting a hand on the small of my back. “How are you holding up?”

  My lip quivered, and tears threatened to fall again. “It’s touch and go,” I replied honestly. “Where have you been? You were supposed to check in. I was worried.”

  Nick was silent for a moment. “I figured you had enough to deal with without me showing up.”

  “I killed him.”

  Nick grabbed my upper arm and turned me to face him. Holding me at arm’s length, he gazed deep into my eyes with the deepest sympathy. “Brooke, no.”

  “M-maybe not directly, but she was there for me, wasn’t she?” He didn’t need to answer; I saw the truth in his eyes that I was right. “She was there for me, and he was just a fly in her ointment.”

  “Yes.”

  I processed this for a moment, my anger returning and turning into something else I hadn’t felt in years. The emotion built and took on a life of its own. My body trembled. I recognized this from the other night: this was the first stage of the change. If I didn’t keep it from overtaking me completely, I’d fall victim to it again, and I needed to maintain my focus and stay lucid now more than ever.

  “Did you find her? Gianna?”

  “No. The trail came up dry.” He sighed. “Listen, Brooke, there’s still so much you need to learn about our world.”

  I nodded. “Then teach me. I can’t be in the dark any longer. You said I would be safe—that my loved ones would be safe—but you were wrong. I’m not safe, and I won’t be safe until I know what I’m up against and how I can stop it.” My hands shook as the fires of rage flared inside me. “I want to find this bitch and tear her apart for what she’s done.”

  It didn’t take him longer than a few seconds to concur, looking down at me with nothing but understanding. “You’re absolutely right. It’s time you knew the truth.”

  With that, I agreed to let Nick lead me through the cemetery and off into the night. My need to right this terrible injustice was stronger than it had ever been.

  Denial.

  Anger.

  Bargaining.

  Depression.

  Acceptance.

  These are the five stages of grief. Everyone experiences them in their own time and at their own pace, and I believed this to be true, based on personal experience. David had been dead almost a week now, and I was slowly coming to terms with it. But as I stood and watched fresh dirt cover his grave that afternoon, I realized that the people who classified these five emotions left off one more. One that I welcomed with everything I had. One that would bring me closure.

  Revenge.

  Chapter twenty-nine | lessons

  Sleep wasn’t easy. Every time I closed my eyes, my nightmares alternated between David’s death and watching his coffin being lowered into the ground. Both of these were memories that would likely haunt me for the rest of my life. Exhaustion eventually overpowered me, and I slept in short bursts every couple hours.

  When I finally woke in the morning, my throat was sore, and I felt the warmth of the sunlight as it streamed in from the window. I rolled over onto my right side, hoping that all of this was just a nightmare and that David was fine and lying next to me. Deep down, I knew this to be wishful thinking, but my brain was still muddled with sleep, and I held onto the possibility for a little longer.

  When I found the bed empty, the extreme sadness returned, my chest aching as I fought another sob. I also remembered I wasn’t in my own room…or my own house, for that matter.

  After Nick found me at the cemetery, I asked him to take me back to his place. It wasn’t because I wanted to lose myself in him; that would be an insult to David’s memory. While I admitted to still having feelings for Nick, I wasn’t about to act on those feelings. Not even for a moment of solace.

  Because I didn’t want to worry my parents, I called them and let them know that I didn’t think I was in any shape to join them at the celebration of life. I wasn’t trying to be rude or disrespectful to David’s memory, I just didn’t think I was mentally stable enough to attend. Besides my undeniable grief, I was feeling an insurmountable level of rage and vengeance. It actually eclipsed my grief more and more as time passed, shielding me from everything else until it was all I focused on. Even now, as I slowly pushed myself up to sit on the edge of Nick’s bed.

  My back and shoulders ached from all the crying over the last few days, and I inhaled a shuddering breath, holding it until my lungs burned. When I released it, I looked over my shoulder at the unoccupied side of the bed, my heart straining as I willed David to appear.

  But it was Nick’s head that appeared as he sat up from his makeshift bed on the floor, startling me.

  “Holy shit!” I exclaimed, slapping my hand over my chest, my heart hammering and my adrenaline pumping. It shouldn’t have caught me off guard the way it did; it wasn’t like I didn’t remember where I was.

  “Sorry,” he apologized softly, standing up. He wore a pair of flannel sleep pants and nothing more, so I turned away. “How was your sleep?”

  “Restless.” I fixed the blankets on the bed while Nick folded his up and placed them in the red armchair in the corner of his room. “You don’t have to pretend like you hadn’t noticed.”

  Nick shrugged, grabbing a black T-shirt from his dresser and pulling it on. “I was trying to be polite. Are you…?” He hesitated briefly. “Are you all right?”

  Why was it when people asked you that question, you felt like falling apart? It was like a chink in my armor, causing my need for vengeance to ebb. I hated it. I felt what little strength I had found begin to waver, and I tried to hold onto it as best I could. “I’m about as well as can be expected.”

  “Of course,” Nick said. “It was stupid of me to even ask.”

  “No,” I tried to assure him. “It was sweet to ask… It’s just hard for me to talk about right now.”

  Nick looked at me and smiled. “You hungry?”

  My stomach growled at the prospect of a meal, but it still felt like a roiling sea of nerves and nausea. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a decent meal, though, so I figured I should at least try. “Sure,” I replied before looking down at my rumpled dress.

  “We can stop by your place afterward if you want to change.”

  I tried to smooth out some of the wrinkles that formed while I slept. “Yeah. That might be a good idea,” I agreed, following him out to the hall where I was suddenly very aware of the movements and voices of Nick’s Packmates in the kitchen. I froze, and Nick noticed, sensing what my problem was.

  “It’s fine,” he whispered, taking my hand in his, and I clung to him like he was my lifeline. “They know enough to be respectful.”

  We entered the kitchen and all talking ceased as they turned to look at me. The only face I recognized was Jackson’s, who looked surprisingly empathetic while eating his eggs and coffee. While I didn’t know
the other three, I recognized their scents from the few times I’d been here.

  “Brooke,” Nick started, placing his hand on the small of my back, “These are a few of the guys from my Pack. Zack…” He gestured toward the guy to Jackson’s right with the dark skin, almost-black hair, and expressive brown eyes. He was just lifting the spoon out of his cereal bowl and nodded his greeting since his mouth was full. “Vincent…” To Jackson’s left sat a slightly smaller, yet no less intimidating man with bright blond hair and sea-green eyes. “Corbin… And you already know Jackson.” Corbin looked to be about the same size as Vincent, but his frame was a bit more slender. He regarded me with dark blue eyes as he pushed his fingers through his light brown hair, while Jackson continued to stare.

  “Hi,” I returned quietly. “It’s…uh…nice to meet you all.”

  Zack smiled warmly, excitement flashing in his dark eyes. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.

  “Zack…” Nick warned, his voice low and threatening as he walked to the fridge and perused its contents.

  It was hard not to smile as Zack playfully challenged Nick, his youth more obvious as he ignored his superior. “All good things,” he assured me with a wink. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the s—”

  The fridge door slammed, and Nick whipped around, chucking a loaf of bread at Zack’s head. “If you want her to like you, I suggest you don’t finish that sentence.”

  Confused, I looked toward Nick. He rolled his eyes and brushed his finger across his nose as if to itch it…and that’s when I realized what it was Zach had meant, and my face heated up with embarrassment.

  “Stories,” Zach tacked on, throwing the bread back at Nick, who caught it in his huge hand, crushing it in the process. “How crass do you think I am?”

  Nick shot a pointed glare at him. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  Smirking, Zack leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, maybe not.”

  Listening to them react to one another, playing off what the other one said, reminded me of the kind of relationship Bobby and I used to have. How he and Nick used to do the same thing. It brought a smile to my face, even in the midst of all this sorrow and anger that flowed through me. It was nice to feel something other than grief.

  The scrape of chair legs across the tile pulled my attention to Corbin, who pushed out one of the two available chairs around the table. “Why don’t you join us, Brooke? Nick’ll bring you a coffee, won’t you, big guy?”

  Nick nodded, his hand moving from the small of my back and over my hair as though smoothing it a little. “Yeah. Have a seat. They don’t bite.”

  My eyes snapped to Jackson, who conveniently looked away from me and took a sip of his own coffee. My resentment toward him flared again as it occurred to me this might not have happened had he not bit me that night in the park. But I didn’t say anything, because my time just wasn’t worth the strife it might cause. I needed Nick right now, and I was sure at some point I’d need his Pack, too. Especially if I was going to get justice for David.

  Nick handed me a cup of coffee, and I added cream and sugar from the containers on the table. Zack, Corbin, and Vincent all watched as I put teaspoon after teaspoon of sugar into it before stirring and taking my first sip. It wasn’t the first time people had stared at me like I was crazy when making my coffee, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

  I wasn’t really in the mood for making conversation—which was only natural, given it was the day after my boyfriend and partner’s funeral. None of the guys pressured me for any details on my life, and I appreciated it. Instead, they continued to carry on their conversation about their mission for the day, and how they were looking forward to getting the job done so they could head back home. Behind me, Nick cooked bacon and eggs, and when it was ready, he put a heaping plate down in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, placing a napkin in my lap before picking up my fork.

  Nodding, he took the empty seat next to me, the outside of his leg brushing mine, and was about to dig in when Corbin spoke up. “How come you never cook like that for us?” he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

  Smirking, Nick met his stare. “Because you don’t appreciate me,” he fired back.

  My stomach was still in knots, but I knew I had to eat something. It had been far too long, and I was weak. Weaker than I had been in a long time. Thankfully my appetite flourished after my first bite instead of dwindling further, and I ate in silence while the guys talked about where they planned to patrol later.

  I didn’t understand most of what they were talking about, but one look at Nick told me he’d fill me in later. It was why I was here, after all: to learn about this way of life.

  Well, that and to avenge David’s death.

  Out of nowhere, Jackson pushed his chair back loudly and stood up. “I’m heading out,” he announced curtly. “I’ll let you know what I find.” With that, Jackson took his cup and plate to the sink and then left the kitchen, the front door slamming a minute later.

  “He’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?” I quipped.

  Zack laughed loudly. “I like her!” he declared. “She’s way more fun than any of the other strays you’ve brought home.”

  Shocked, I inhaled sharply, dropping my fork onto my plate with a loud clank. “I’m sorry, what? Strays?”

  Nick shook his head and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Ignore him. He’s young…a pup. He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.” He stood up and grabbed his plate. “You done?”

  Shoveling one more forkful of food into my mouth, I nodded once, and Nick took our dishes to the sink and quickly washed them while I finished my coffee. “You guys planning on heading out today? Marcus wants an update this afternoon. He’s getting antsy and threatening to come out here himself. You know he’s got enough shit to deal with back home, he doesn’t need to think he can’t trust us to get this done.”

  Zack, Corbin, and Vincent stood up, taking their dishes to the sink. Nick grumbled, but agreed to do them, and after they left, I grabbed a dishtowel, offering to pitch in.

  “You really don’t have to help,” Nick said as I grabbed the first dish. “You should be relaxing. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

  “It’s fine. You’ve done so much for me by letting me stay here. It’s the least I can do.”

  Once the dishes were done and put away, Nick and I headed to my place. He offered to drive us on his motorcycle, but I refused, saying I’d prefer to walk. Within the better part of an hour, we were walking up my front steps, and I grabbed my hide-a-key from a fake rock in my garden.

  There was still a police notice on the door that they posted when this was deemed an active crime scene. The house still hadn’t been released, and wouldn’t be until the case was solved, but I needed a few more things and Nick said he needed one more look around. I shouldn’t have even been here, but if it was going to help us find Gianna, then I didn’t give a shit what the rules were anymore. Everything worthwhile had already been filed, taken into account, and photographed, but they needed to keep everything “as-is” in case they had to come back and reevaluate something. Knowing this, I wouldn’t disturb the crime scene. It’d be like I wasn’t even here. No one would even have to know.

  Carefully, we stepped inside the house, and I purposely avoided the living room, heading straight for my bedroom, while Nick lingered in the entryway, sniffing around for anything useful. Everything was still in shambles, so I carefully sidestepped any debris from the fight, telling Nick to do the same. He assured me he wouldn’t touch a thing, so I headed to my room to grab a few more things and change out of my dress.

  I paused at the end of my bed, staring down at the perfectly smooth blanket. My heart seized at the thought that I’d never share this bed with David again, and I walked over to his side of the bed, picking up his pillow. His scent still lingered on it, so I drew it to my face and inhaled deeply, committing his scent to my memory in hopes I’d never forge
t it. This awakened the memory of his fear that night when he came in to find me under attack, and the confusion he probably felt as he died…alone.

  Even though I wasn’t in the living room to see the exact spot where David drew his last breath, just being in this house caused anxiety to claw at my chest, curling its gnarled fingers so tightly around my lungs, I found it hard to breathe. I couldn’t bear to stay here for any prolonged period of time, so I quickly stripped out of my rumpled dress, tossed it in my hamper, and found a pair of jeans and a gray long-sleeved cotton tee. I grabbed another duffle bag and threw more clothes inside of it before slinging it over my shoulder. When I exited my room, I was surprised to find Nick had wandered to the living room. He looked around, not touching anything, and I hesitantly stepped forward.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I asked, my eyes instantly finding the spot where David bled out. It had been cleaned up, but the hardwood was stained from his blood. It had seeped into the wood grain, and I could still smell it beneath the lingering scent of all the cleaning chemicals used. Amongst the stains were scratches from my claws as I’d fought Samantha. I briefly wondered what the police report might read regarding them. Perhaps the suspect had a dog with him.

  “Just trying to see if there’s anything else we can use to track down where their nest might be,” Nick replied, scanning the room from his position. “Can you tell me a little more about what happened? Maybe the one that was here left behind some kind of clue about where they’ve been holing up?”

  Again, I hesitated, but I told him. Everything. I told him how I came home from his place, ready to apologize and tell David I wanted more out of our relationship. I explained how David wasn’t home, and I found this woman—a woman I thought to be dead given I was assigned her case and had been over her autopsy report multiple times—snooping around before she attacked me. It embarrassed me when I told him how I fought back poorly, and then my anger spiked when I got to the part where David walked in.

  Nick continued to listen as I told him how she threw David through the air like he weighed no more than a pillow, and when I got to the part where I shifted, he seemed particularly intrigued. “And you remember? The shift, I mean?”