Dangerous Love (Moon Light Wolves Book 2)

by Jasmine B. Waters

  By the time the sun was sinking low in the sky, I was starting to lose hope. David and I had been almost everywhere that Monica had loved. Between her favorite rock and magic store, to the diner where we’d gone almost every day after school the previous year, I was feeling hopeless and lost.

  I sniffled as I climbed back in the passenger seat.

  “Can you think of anywhere else?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said softly, “I can’t.”

  David nodded. “I should be getting back to Vermont,” he said quietly. “I told my parents I’d be home later.”

  I nodded.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded again, but I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. As much as I was worried about Monica, I couldn’t help feeling lonely. There was a giant hole in my chest where my best friend had once been, and I knew that it wouldn’t ever go away.

  “What happens if we don’t find her?” I said listlessly, staring out the car window. Rain had begun to fall, and I watched the drops lash the window until my eyes burned.

  “She’ll turn up.”

  “You don’t know that.” Shifting in the seat, I turned to face David. “You don’t know anything. She could never come home. She could be gone. Forever.”

  David sighed. “Look, Elizabeth, what do you want me to say? That I’m feeling fucking fantastic about my girlfriend missing? That I feel just great?”

  “No…” I bit my lip. “I don’t know.” Tears came to my eyes, and I hunched over my lap, dreading the sobs. But when I started crying, it was like a dam broke. Emotion swirled loose in my brain, and for a moment, I cried so hard that all I could focus on was how much my sinuses hurt.

  David reached over and awkwardly patted my back. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Try not to worry so much, Elizabeth.”

  “I miss her so much,” I sobbed. “I just wish she’d come home.”

  “Me, too.” David’s voice was thick with emotion. When I looked at him, I saw that he was sobbing, too. I hesitated a second before unfastening my seat belt and wrapping my arms around his neck. David leaned into me, and I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder until his black shirt was soaked through with tears.

  It felt strange to be sharing such an intimate moment with someone I hadn’t exactly had warm feelings for. I cried on David’s shoulder until my throat was raw and aching, until I felt like I had no more tears left in my body. He sobbed wildly against me, shaking and shivering until the skin of his face was burning hot. All I could think about was Monica. I wondered if she was cold, or scared, or hurt. I wondered if some sicko had picked her up in a van, if somehow, she’d been mistaken for a little girl. I knew that Monica had always thought of herself as a real tough girl, but in reality, she was fragile. Jamie and Brian – nontraditional though they were – had kept her shielded from the rest of the world. A villain to Monica was a Republican or a capitalist.

  After what felt like hours, David pulled away. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a trail of iridescent, sticky slime.

  “Sorry,” David mumbled. “I don’t know why that happened.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  The intimacy between us was deflating rapidly as David started the car and drove me home.

  As I got ready to go inside, I unbuckled my seat belt and turned toward him.

  “Thanks for coming down,” I said softly. “Even if we didn’t do all that much.”

  David nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Look, I can come back on the weekend. My parents won’t care. I could stay with Jamie and Brian.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  There was an awkward tension – a pause that made me shiver. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I lifted my fingers in a childish wave and climbed out of the car. David didn’t even stay to watch me go inside; he peeled out of the driveway, spraying gravel everywhere.

  My mom was standing at the stove. “I was worried about you,” she chastised. “I don’t want you out alone. Not with all this going on.”

  “I wasn’t alone. I was with…Andrea. Remember?”

  Mom nodded. “Look, honey, I know you think you should be doing more. But there really isn’t anything to be done. The police are on Monica’s case, and they’re looking for her as hard as they can.”

  I bit my lip. Mom was looking at me, staring at my bloodshot eyes.

  “I just feel like no one even cares,” I said, flopping down in exasperation. “There hasn’t been a search party. Her parents probably haven’t even called the cops themselves!”

  Mom sighed. “I know, sweetie.” She cleared her throat. “Sometimes we just have to let people do what they want. It’s not your responsibility to make the Boers be better parents.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I’m going upstairs,” I muttered. “I’ll be down later.”

  Once I was safely behind the locked door of my room, I grabbed my phone from the charger and called Steven. Normally, I would have been anxious at the thought of calling the D’Amicos. But right now, I was too worried about Monica.

  “Hey, Elizabeth?”

  “Yeah,” I said quietly. “I skipped school today. To look for her, with David.”

  “And?”

  I sighed.

  “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No,” I said softly. “Why?”

  “I’m picking you up in twenty,” Steven said. “We’re going to the diner.”

  When Steven and I hung up, I changed into a pair of black jeans and a sweater. Racing downstairs, I checked my hair in the hallway mirror before walking into the kitchen.

  “You’re looking better,” Mom said. She cocked her head to the side. “Everything okay?”

  I nodded, trying not to blush. “Yes,” I said. “Um, Steven wants to take me out to dinner. Is that okay?”

  Mom raised her eyebrows. “Is this a date, Elizabeth?”

  “I don’t think so.” I twisted my hands together behind my back. “I mean, I don’t know. I think he just wants to talk about Monica.”

  Mom nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Just be home before ten, okay?”

  I nodded. Just as I was grabbing a jacket from the hall closet, I heard the rumbling of an engine outside.

  “Steven’s here,” I called. “Gotta go! See you later, Mom.”

  Before she could reply, I darted outside and ran over to Steven’s car. He gave me a lopsided grin when he saw me, and my stomach lurched to the side in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

  “You didn’t have to run out,” Steven said. “I was about to knock on the door.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Steven drove in silence. When we got to the diner, another pang of sadness hit me.

  “It feels so weird to be here without Monica,” I said as Steven held the door for me. “We used to come every day freshman year.”

  Steven nodded. “Yeah, I saw you.”

  I raised my eyebrow, and Steven blushed.

  “I mean, I wasn’t spying or anything,” he said quickly. “Andrea told me, I guess.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it was when they were still friends.”

  There was an awkward silence as we picked up the grease-spattered menus and began to browse. Although the diner was never particularly busy, it always had the same dingy look – floors streaked with dirt, tables covered with crumbs. It hadn’t ever bothered me, but now that I was here with Steven, everything looked even worse than it had before. ‘Is this a date?’ I wondered as I flipped through the menu. ‘And if it is, why didn’t we go someplace else?’

  After we ordered, Steven looked into my eyes. “So, how was today?”

  I shrugged. “We didn’t find anything,” I said listlessly. “And being with David was weird.” Instantly, I felt guilty for saying that.

  Steven chuckled. “Yeah. He’s an odd dude.”

  “I just wish we would have…I dunn
o. Seen something. Anything,” I stressed. “Like, anything to give me another idea where to look.”

  Steven shrugged. “Probably better left to the cops.”

  I frowned. “I guess.”

  “We had this shitty assembly today,” Steven said. He snickered. “They brought in these bodybuilder guys who ripped phone books apart with their hands. Then they told us it was because they’d dedicated their lives to Jesus. Andrea flipped. It was fucking nuts.”

  “Monica would have hated that,” I said. “Hey, I never thought of this before, but maybe I should call some of her other family. She has that cousin, right? The one that lives in Massachusetts?”

  “It was such a weird day.” Steven raked a hand through his blond hair.

  “I thought you brought me here to talk about Monica?”

  Steven sighed. “I dunno, Elizabeth. I thought you needed a break that was why I suggested it.”

  “So, you don’t really care,” I said hotly. I knew I was going down a dangerous path, but I couldn’t help it. Suddenly, I was incredibly angry that no one else was taking this seriously.

  “Of course, I care!” Steven looked offended. “I care a lot, you know? These adults – they’re not doing shit!”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just frustrated.”

  “I get that,” Steven said. “Everything will be okay. Just try to chill out, okay?”

  Steven launched into a story about something that had happened in AP English, and as much as I wanted to listen, my resentment was growing. I couldn’t believe that he didn’t even care about Monica. ‘My best friend is dead, and no one cares but me,’ I thought angrily. ‘Am I going crazy? Did I imagine this whole thing?’

  After we ate – a tuna melt for me, and a club sandwich for Steven – Steven paid the bill, and we climbed into his car.

  “Hey, I’m going over to John’s,” Steven said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, I need to stop by the house and grab something. I borrowed a movie from him last week,” Steven said. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ll take you home right after.”

  I frowned. “Sure,” I said. “No problem.” I turned my face to the window so he wouldn’t catch my disappointment. I’d been hoping that he would ask me to come.

  Steven pulled into his driveway. “Hey, come in for a minute,” he said. “You’ll get cold if you stay in the car.”

  I nodded before following him inside. The foyer of the D’Amicos house was a rush of activity. Andrea was scurrying around with a hairbrush in one hand and her jacket clutched in the other. Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico were arguing loudly. Steven darted upstairs, throwing me an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he did so.

  “Hi, Elizabeth,” Andrea said primly. She smiled. “How are you feeling today? I noticed you weren’t at school.” She held out her bag, and I saw that it was a bible case with handles and a gold-stitched crucifix on one side.

  “Um, yeah,” I said. “I was sick.”

  Andrea leapt away like I’d just told her that I had the plague. “Don’t come too close,” she said. “I have such a low immune system.”

  I nodded. “Right.” Now that Monica was gone, being around Andrea was harder than ever. She looked one second away from bursting into tears. I wondered if she was feeling guilty.

  “So, you and Steven were out with friends?”

  I shook my head. “Uh, no. We just went to the diner, that’s all.”

  “Alone?” Andrea raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “He told me he wanted to cheer me up. You know…because of Monica.”

  Andrea frowned. A deep crease appeared in the pale skin of her forehead. “I don’t think Mom wants Steven to have a girlfriend right now. She’s worried he won’t get into a good school.”

  “I’m not Steven’s girlfriend,” I said, shaking my head.

  Andrea stared at me. “I’m going to church,” she said. “You want to come? My youth group always wants new people. We welcome everyone.”

  Something about the way Andrea was staring at me was giving me goosebumps.

  “I have homework,” I lied. “Maybe next time.”

  Andrea nodded firmly. “It would be good of you to come,” she said. “I noticed you and your family stopped coming to church years ago.”

  “My mom is just so busy now,” I said. “We don’t really have time.”

  “Everyone should make time for God.”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, praying for Steven to come rescue me. Just as Andrea launched into the virtues of regular church attendance, Steven’s footsteps thundered down the steps. He jumped the last three, landing in the foyer with a loud, boyish thud.

  “Hey, I’m ready,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the door. “You wanna go?”

  “Steven, can you give me a ride to church?” Andrea batted her eyelashes at her brother. “Mom’s going to be late again.”

  “Uh, sure. Come on.”

  I tried not to show my disappointment. Andrea skipped outside ahead of me and darted into the passenger seat of Steven’s car. He and I followed.

  “Sorry,” Steven muttered. “Mom would shit if I said no. That’s the whole reason they bought me a car.”

  I nodded. “No worries. It’s fine.”

  Andrea chattered incessantly about her church group the whole way into town. Steven and I nodded, but I noticed he wasn’t saying much. It was interesting to see how much he’d changed. Until last year, Steven had been almost as religious as his younger sister. But he seemed different now, almost like he’d changed completely.

  “Elizabeth’s house is before the church,” Andrea said crossly. “Why aren’t you dropping her off first?”

  “Sorry,” Steven said absentmindedly. He pulled into the gravel lot of Jaffrey United Methodist. “I must’ve forgotten.”

  Andrea gave me a sour look. She smiled at Steven. Just as she was about to climb out of the car, she ducked her head back in and kissed Steven, full on the lips.

  Chapter Nine

  Monica

  With a groan, I opened my eyes. I expected to see Henrik or his coven dancing around me and moaning. Instead, I was shocked to discover that I was in my parents’ backyard, covered in dirt.

  The athame was sitting in my lap. The blade gleamed, reflecting my own face in the shiny surface.

  I shivered. ‘Did I just have a bad dream,’ I wondered as I climbed to my feet and brushed my hands off on my thighs. ‘What the hell happened?’

  The sky was tinged pink and orange with the setting of the sun, and the air was brisk and chilly. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso, hugging myself for warmth. After a few seconds, I grabbed the athame and held it at my side, clutching the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

  Inside, Jamie and Brian were sitting at the dinner table, full glasses of wine in front of them.

  Jamie looked up at me and smiled. “There you are,” she said. “I was actually starting to worry.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Could I have something to eat?”

  “Your father made mushroom risotto; it’s in the kitchen.” Jamie yawned. “You must be tired.”

  I nodded. “Exhausted.”

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Brian said. He barely glanced up from the papers. “Have fun with David?”

  “I wasn’t with David.” I held the knife behind my back and made my way across the room, keeping it out of sight.

  “Oh.” Brian turned a page, narrowing his eyes at a headline. “Where did you go?”

  I shrugged. “I was around.”

  “I knew you’d be fine,” Jamie said absentmindedly. She yawned, rubbing at her eyes with both fists. “You missed a week of school, though. Should probably phone your teachers and ask for assignments.”

  My eyes widened. “I was gone for a week?”

  Jamie nodded. She and Brian exchanged a knowing glance. �
��And just how much acid did you decide to drop?” Jamie giggled. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to tell me. Just be safe, okay? Try not to have a bad trip. They’re a real pain in the ass.”

  “Um, yeah,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?”

  Jamie and Brian nodded in unison. I bolted upstairs, clutching the athame to my chest.

  My room looked almost exactly the same as it had when I’d left. My bed was mussed, and my closet was undisturbed. It felt so surreal – and yet, so amazing – to be home that I was starting to feel overwhelmed. Each passing second only created more questions in my brain. ‘Was I really gone for a week? What happened? Why can’t I remember more from the time I was gone? Was I actually gone, or was I just hallucinating in the woods?’

  It was very strange. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could remember the exact feeling of Henrik grabbing my shoulder. I could remember the heat of the flames and even the herbal smell of the smoke that had surrounded the coven.

  But I could barely remember what had actually happened.

  I shuddered. ‘It was probably some kind of hallucinatory thing,’ I realized as I stripped down and pulled on my bathrobe. ‘Like, maybe some of that stuff at the party was spiked with LSD. I bet Steven’s asshole jock friends would do that as a joke.’

  An idea struck me. I walked over to my desk and grabbed a pen and a notepad. In a trembling hand, I wrote Henrik’s name. But when I tried to remember what he looked like, the image faded from my mind. I clenched my jaw in frustration and tried to think. Was he old? Young? Foreign? With a name like Henrik, probably so – but I couldn’t remember him having any kind of an accent. I couldn’t remember what he’d worn. I couldn’t remember how his voice had sounded.

  In fact, the only memory that was really sticking with me was the feeling, the sensation, of being trapped and captured. I shuddered. Once, I’d read a news clipping about a serial killer who abducted women and drugged them heavily so they wouldn’t remember undergoing torture. Most of the time, the drugs killed them. But in a few cases, they survived with no memories of what had happened.

  Fear swelled in my chest. I decided to take a hot shower -- that had sometimes helped me calm down in the past, so it was at least worth a try.