Dangerous Love (Moon Light Wolves Book 2)

by Jasmine B. Waters

  I was desperate to live on my own, at least for now. Sharing a room with three other girls my freshman year had been a terrible adventure…I wasn’t looking forward to doing that again, at least, not so soon. My mom seemed confused that I wasn’t chomping at the bit to move in with Steven, but at least she never said anything too rude about it.

  I wondered how many people thought I was a total idiot for not committing to him with every fiber of my being. As much as I wanted to think it didn’t matter, I knew it did. It mattered to Steven, and unless I came around, I had a feeling our fights would get even worse.

  Being back in Jaffrey gave me chills. As I pulled into the driveway, I looked around, half-expecting to see the ghosts of my past floating out of the woods and threatening to haunt me forever. But my parents’ house looked just the same as always: lawn neatly trimmed, clean-yet-cluttered interior.

  It even smelled the same.

  “Mom?” I called. “I’m home.”

  There was no answer. Frowning, I left my bags in the foyer as I walked into the kitchen.

  “Hey.”

  The rough, scratchy voice made me jump. Whirling around, I saw my brother, Aidan, and gasped.

  “You look so different!”

  Aidan laughed. He was finally taller than me – by at least a head and a half – and he stood there, smirking and shaking his head. There was a hint of dark scuff on his cheeks and neck and his Adam’s apple protruded from his throat.

  “Yeah,” Aidan said. He pulled me into a hug and I was surprised to feel the strength of his arms around me. “I’m all grown up, I guess. You look the same, though.”

  “No shit,” I said, pulling away and reaching to ruffle his hair. Aidan ducked and we both burst out laughing.

  “Mom’s out, doing something,” Aidan said. He wrinkled his nose. “She wanted me to stay home because there’s something in the oven. God, I’m starving,” he added. “You hungry?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.”

  Aidan pulled a huge container of fruit out of the fridge and made himself a plate, complete with a sandwich and three dill pickles.

  “God, that’s a lot of food.”

  Aidan raised an eyebrow. “You should hear Mom and Dad,” he said, wolfing down a huge bite of pear. “They keep talking about how they wish I was a girl, cause you barely ate when you were in high school.”

  “That’s what they get for having more than one kid,” I said with a smirk. “How are things around here, really?”

  Aidan shrugged. “The same, I guess,” he said. “I mean, it’s weird.” He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a napkin before leaning back in his chair. “I guess I never really noticed when I was younger, but I dunno…” He trailed off, his cheeks turning pink.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What? What do you mean by that, exactly?”

  Aidan shrugged again. “Nothing, it’s just…I don’t know, there’s kind of a weird energy around here,” he added, wrinkling his nose. “I know that makes me sound queer, but it’s like, you can’t ignore it.”

  “Has anything happened at school? Like, has anyone disappeared? Or died? Or gotten hurt in a really weird way?”

  Aidan took the last half of his sandwich and devoured it whole, chewing thoughtfully.

  “Yeah,” Aidan said. “I mean, no one died, or disappeared, or anything. But like, this one class that started – it wasn’t there when you were still in high school – about how to navigate in the woods and make trails and shit, well, they all got lost in the woods for a couple of days. They were okay, but like, none of them would talk about it afterwards. I think it was probably scary or some shit.”

  My heart jumped into my throat.

  “Which woods?”

  “The woods behind Monica’s old house,” Aidan said. He bit into a banana, eating half of it in one bite. “Her parents aren’t there anymore,” he added. “They moved a couple of years back.”

  “Oh.”

  It was all I could say.

  “Anyway, England, huh? That’s cool,” Aidan said. “You excited?”

  I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I am.”

  “Lucky,” Aidan said. He yawned, stretching his hands high up in the air. “Nothing exciting ever happens around here. I’d kill to go to England.”

  I licked my lips. Yeah, I thought, staring at my baby brother and wondering just how much evil was still lurking in Jaffrey. You’re lucky, you don’t know the half of it.

  That night, I went for a walk in the woods, hoping to find the coven. But the woods remained elusive, and when the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  ---

  The next morning, Mom drove me to Logan airport. She hugged me for a long time and stared at me critically, narrowing her eyes.

  “I hope you’ll email me every now and then,” Mom said. I could tell she was trying to a light tone but she sounded like a woman sending her own daughter off to the slaughter. “I’ll miss you, honey.”

  “I’ll write every week,” I said. “Well, I’ll try.”

  “You have your passport? And your money to get exchanged?”

  I nodded.

  “And you called your bank, and said you’re going to be in England for six months, and that they shouldn’t authorize any U.S. purchases?”

  “Yes,” I said. I looked down. “Mom, I love you, but I have to go – there’s a huge line by security, and I don’t want to miss my flight.”

  My mom nodded. “You really are grown up, sweetie.” She pulled me into a hug. “I’m proud of you. You know, you can always come back if you don’t like it.”

  “I think I’ll be okay,” I said, trying hard not to sound too excited to be fleeing. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, sweetie.” Mom kissed me on the cheek. “You be safe, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Mom gave me one last hug and then I wrestled my two huge suitcases inside. The line to check in for United flights was trailing back, almost to the doors, and I groaned as I realized I was going to be standing for a long time. Fortunately, as soon as I was there, the line started moving almost instantly. I barely had time to wrestle my passport and driver’s license from my wallet when it was my turn to check in.

  After I got through security, I bought myself a pretzel and settled into a chair by the gate. To my immense irritation, I saw that I had fourteen messages – all from Steven.

  “Good morning, babe. Have fun with your mom on the way to the airport!”

  “Hey babe, miss you already. Kurt says hi.”

  “Hey, Elizabeth, you okay?”

  “Elizabeth, are you getting these messages?”

  “Are you at the airport?”

  “When is your flight, can I have the flight number? I already forgot?”

  “Elizabeth, I’m really worried. I’m calling your house.”

  “Okay, your brother said your mom just got home, so where are you?”

  “Elizabeth, where are you?”

  “Babe, please, answer me – are you mad at me?”

  “Because if you’re mad, I’m really sorry!”

  “Elizabeth, answer your phone!”

  “I’m sorry just please answer me I miss you so much.”

  “Elizabeth what the fuck”

  I rolled my eyes and texted him back: “Hey, sorry! Phone was off. Getting on the plane now, I’ll text you when I land!”

  I powered my phone off and slipped it into my pocket. Part of me was almost paranoid that he’d do something crazy, like show up at the airport with a huge bouquet, a flash mob, and a proposal. It scared me so much that I kept twisting around in my seat and making sure that there weren’t any guys with dirty blonde hair in sight.

  But thankfully, nothing like that happened.

  The flight was long – longer than I’d ever been on a plane before. As we sped towards takeoff, I gripped both armrests of my seat with white-knuckled
hands. I’d flown a few times before, and I’d never liked it, it had always terrified me.

  But seven hours later, I touched down at Heathrow miraculously unscathed. From the airport, I caught a train to Oxford and spent an hour and a half gazing out at the beautiful English countryside. It looks like Vermont, I thought as the train whizzed by small town after small town. Imagine going halfway around the world and finding a place that looks just like where you’ve come from.

  I was going to be sharing a flat with two other students from abroad, but neither of them had arrived by the time I picked up the keys and carried my bags up five flights of rickety, narrow steps. I claimed the biggest room, the one with a double bed, and decided to lie down.

  When I woke up, it was after dark. I was starving, and the pantry was completely empty. I had another twenty-five messages from Steven – this time, I texted back and said that I was fine, but that I didn’t have great cell reception – and then looked up a few nearby pubs. There was one only a few minutes from the flat, so I took a shower and changed into fresh jeans and a black shirt.

  The pub was crowded, full of college kids by the time I got there. I loved the mix of accents – something about British accents always sounded so educated to me – and I could barely order a beer and a burger for myself without blushing at the cute bartender. I half expected some of the kids in there to start talking to me, but no one did.

  Happy, Steven, I thought as I looked around, chewing thoughtfully on a French fry. Everyone’s ignoring me – you must’ve sent some kind of memo to the students of Oxford before I even got here.

  “Elizabeth?”

  My jaw dropped and a half-chewed fry fell from my mouth into my lap. My cheeks flushed hot red as I spun around on the bar stool and saw David, standing there with a shocked look on his face.

  “David?” God, what a stupid thing to say! Of course, it’s David. Real smart, Elizabeth.

  David smiled weakly. He looked older – there was a line of dark stubble on his pale face, but he was still dressed in black with long dark hair flopping in his eyes.

  “Yeah,” David said. “I thought that was you.” He shook his head and stepped closer. Both of the stools next to me were taken, so he stood next to my knees, staring into my eyes.

  “I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I heard you say my name,” I said softly, pushing my plate to the side. My appetite had completely vanished – now my stomach was a twisting, churning mess of anxiety.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m studying at Oxford for the semester. I got a scholarship, and I really wanted to go abroad…so here I am, I guess,” I said, feeling lame. “You?”

  David ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. It was strange – he couldn’t take his eyes off me, but there was something strange, almost hesitant about him.

  “I graduated high school early and moved to London, went to King’s College and now I’m here.”

  “Are you…?”

  “Research. I’m in astrophysics.”

  I nodded. “That’s cool,” I said slowly. Somehow, being with David again was making me feel as awkward as I’d been as a teenager. “So, I mean, how are you?”

  David shrugged. “I’m okay,” he said. “I haven’t gone back to the States since I left. I don’t really know that I will. I like it here.” He snickered. “Everyone’s so cynical, I feel right at home.”

  The person next to me left and David perched on the stool, hooking his long legs around it and leaning over the bar, as sensual as a cat.

  “You want a beer?” I pointed to my empty glass.

  David nodded. He flagged down the bartender and ordered for both of us, paying before I could even pull my wallet out of my jeans.

  We drank in mostly silence. I couldn’t get over seeing him, in person, after so long. He was different – less sullen – but his spirit was so familiar that it almost hurt. I felt like there was nothing I could say –every word, every phrase sounded so lame in my head that I barely opened my mouth. David didn’t try to talk much, either. By the time my second glass was empty, I was starting to feel tipsy and uncomfortable.

  David got to his feet and stretched. “It was good to see you,” he said. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other sometime. I come here a lot.”

  Without thinking about what I was doing, I scribbled my number on a napkin. “Here,” I said. “Call me sometime, I don’t know anyone here.”

  David gave me an amused smile. “You’ll make friends, Elizabeth – you’ll be in a program with tons of other people just like you. I mean, not just like you,” he added quickly. “But you know, in the same situation.”

  I nodded. “I know,” I said. “But it might be nice to see an old friend sometime.”

  “Is that what we are?”

  I shrugged and tried to smile. “I guess,” I said. “I mean, I think so.”

  David nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said. He slipped the napkin into his pocket and my heart sank – I was sure that he was just being polite. He leaned into give me a one-armed hug, then nodded his head and left the pub.

  After David had gone, I felt stupid sitting there by myself. This was a dumb idea, anyway, I thought as I paid for my burger and slid off the stool. I was stupid to think I could just go out and make friends by sitting alone.

  When I got back to my flat, the other two girls were unpacking in their room. One of them was on the phone – she had someone on speaker – and she was shouting in French. I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I thought as I slipped into my room and shut the door. Definitely going to make friends with people in the same situation as me.

  I pulled out my laptop and got ready to write an email to my mom. Not that there was much to say, but I honestly couldn’t deal with the prospect of calling Steven. Still, I knew I should check my messages. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I turned it on and waited for the inevitable notifications to fill my screen like angry darts.

  To my surprise, my phone started buzzing right away with a British number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Elizabeth, it’s David. Where are you staying?”

  My heart skipped a beat as I gave him the address.

  “Want me to come over? I just got a bottle of this great wine, you’ll really like it.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “That would be great.”

  Ten minutes later, I met David at the door. Holding my hand up to my mouth, I gestured for him to be quiet. David nodded and followed me inside, slinking down the dark hallway like a cat. When his arm brushed against mine, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  My flatmates were still hiding in their own rooms, doors shut, lights out. I knew that I should be tired – aside from my nap, I’d been awake for almost thirty-six hours.

  But seeing David again was making me feel anxious and jittery, like I’d just drank three cups of espresso.

  “Nice,” David said quietly, running his hand along the inside of the door frame.

  I forced a laugh. “Yeah,” I said. “I was kinda worried – I didn’t see many pictures of this place before I got here.”

  David sat down on the edge of my bed and produced a bottle of wine from his backpack. He raised an eyebrow at me as he propped the bottle between his thighs and unscrewed the cork.

  “I’ll go get glasses,” I said nervously. To be honest, I was glad for a distraction. I thought David would follow me from my bedroom to the kitchen, but when I got back, he was lying down and staring at the ceiling.

  David smirked when he saw me. “Elizabeth, relax.”

  “Sorry,” I said, stepping forward and sitting down gingerly at the edge of the bed. The mattress was an old one – it was hard not to sink back towards David, and after a few seconds, I moved to the desk.

  David poured two glasses to the brim, then carefully handed it over.

  “I didn’t sleep for a week when I first got here,” David said, running a hand through his
black hair.

  “Jet lag?”

  David shook his head. “Not exactly. More like…amazement. I couldn’t believe that I was really here, that I’d gotten out of the States for good.”

  I nodded. “It feels surreal,” I said. “I’m here, and I don’t feel any different. But everything’s different now.”

  David nodded. He reached forward and we clinked glasses.

  “You were right,” I said. “This is good.”

  David nodded. “Not exactly known for their wine, I know, but there’s a little vineyard around here. I’m friends with some of the people who work there.”

  I licked my lips nervously and took another long sip. The wine was fruity and almost smoky. It wasn’t round, like a California wine, but it seemed to be imbued somehow with the melancholy of England.

  “It’s different,” David added. “But it’s grown on me.”

  For a moment, we sat in silence. The question was tearing me apart inside, but I couldn’t even think of how to ask.

  Finally, I knew that I had to get it out and over with.

  “Do you ever think about Monica?”

  David cocked his head to the side and gave me an odd look. “Yes. All the time.”

  “I miss her,” I said. I shivered and set my glass down, wrapping my arms around my body. “No one ever talks about her anymore.”

  David shrugged. “It hasn’t been that long,” he said.

  “It feels like a lifetime.”

  “Maybe to you,” David said. He drained half his glass at once. “But as soon as I left Vermont…I don’t know,” he added, shaking his head. “Something changed.”

  I frowned. “How? What do you mean?”

  “Hard to explain,” David said dryly. “I miss her. But there’s something inside of me, almost like a tangible object…and it’s not time for me to move on yet.”

  Desperate for something to do with my hands, I grabbed my glass and took a long swallow. The wine burned my throat on the way down but I kept drinking, suddenly hungry for that hot, bleary sensation that told me I was well on my way to getting drunk.

  “Things never went back to normal,” I said softly. “After she died, I mean.”