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Dark of the Moon

Page 11

by Rachel Hawthorne


  "Why wait? Let's get into it now."

  "Later. So the muscles, are they a result of the constant transforming?"

  "Weights. There is no transforming."

  "That line's really getting old. I know what I know."

  "Which apparently is nothing."

  I could tell that Mason wanted to say more, that he was irritated with Connor's attitude. As for me, I was impressed that he could act so cool and nonchalant—like our lives weren't in danger of ending at any moment.

  When Ethan was finished drawing blood, he took some of Connor's hair and a scraping of his skin. He looked unsure as he covered the bleeding spot on the back of Connor's hand with a bandage. When Ethan moved away with his treasures, Tyler approached with a cooler. He started placing bottled water between the bars.

  "What? No beer?" Connor asked sarcastically.

  It was hard to believe now that earlier in the summer we'd all drunk beer together out in the woods.

  Tyler's cheeks burned red, but he didn't say anything as he also placed prepackaged sandwiches, protein bars, and some apples inside the cage.

  "All right," Mason said. "Enjoy your meal. We'll be in touch." He turned to go.

  "Hey, Mason," Connor called out lightly, like one buddy to another.

  Mason swung back around.

  "You really don't want me for an enemy," Connor said darkly, in a threatening manner that even sent a shiver of dread up my spine.

  Mason paled before regaining his cocky composure. "Same goes."

  Not until Mason and his entourage had left the room did I hurry over and wrap my arms around Connor. He closed his around me, squeezing me tightly. Not since I'd faced the moon alone had I felt so terrified.

  "At least they didn't take anything from you," Connor said quietly.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a reason they hadn't, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I wasn't a Shifter and they knew it. I really wasn't rooting for the bad guys to come out victorious in all this, but I also couldn't help thinking that if Mason did succeed, if he did develop a serum or a pill or whatever—that if I took it, Connor would never have to know about my deficiencies. Instinctively I knew that it was the bond of Shifters that was driving him toward me. He thought we were the same species. Shifters moved around in packs. Even out in the world, Shifters kept their distance, were wary of non-Shifters. I still couldn't believe my mom had fallen in love with a human.

  "Everything's going to be okay," Connor assured me.

  Tilting my head back, I studied the contours of his face, saw no doubt in his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

  "Because I know when our opportunity comes to escape you'll be able to kick his butt."

  Releasing a strangled laugh, I fought not to start crying like a human girl would. I wanted to be Shifter-strong for Connor.

  Tenderly he cradled my cheek and leaned in, his lips brushing near my ear as he spoke in an incredibly low and sensual voice. "Seriously. We won't be alone for long. We just have to hold on until the others get here."

  "How do you know they'll come?" I whispered.

  "Because my team was supposed to come scout this area out, and when I don't show up, they'll get Lucas. Might take them a couple of days of trying to figure out where the hell I went, but eventually the pack comes first and they'll head up here to complete their mission. And rescue us in the process."

  I knew the timing was lousy, but when would be a better time? I was still stinging from his decision to oust me. "Why did you kick me off your team?"

  Leaning back, he stroked his thumb over my bottom lip. "Because I can't concentrate when you're around. Because from the moment you silently challenged me in the dungeon, whenever I see you I feel that punch to the gut Lucas was talking about and all I want is—"

  He kissed me with a hunger, a desperation. Maybe our fears that we weren't in control as much as we were used to added to the moment. But we clung to each other as though we never planned to let go. In the back of my mind, I knew this was a bad idea. It was just going to give Mason more fuel to use against us.

  Connor must have had the same thought, because he drew back and squinted at one of the cameras. "Bad timing."

  "It always is with us, I guess."

  Again he brushed his thumb over my lower lip, but it was swollen now and tingled. "Yeah. I'm hungry, and not just for you."

  He started to step away, then stopped. "Hey, what's that?"

  I followed the direction of his gaze and discovered a tear in the sleeve of my shirt. "They must have torn my shirt getting me into the cage or something. No big deal."

  "Not that," he said, his voice taut. He slipped his finger inside the ragged tear. "That. Did Mason hurt you?"

  And I realized he'd spotted the bruise he'd given me when we wrestled. But I couldn't admit that. He'd wonder why I hadn't taken care of it the Shifter-way.

  "Yeah, I guess. But it's not bad. It doesn't bother me."

  "That guy's gonna pay," he ground out, releasing my arm, but taking my hand. He pulled me down to the floor and we sat against the bars. He opened one of the bottles of water and sniffed it. He handed it to me.

  "You think it's safe?" I asked.

  "I can't smell anything that shouldn't be there. Worst case scenario, they added something to the water or food to put us to sleep. Quite honestly, I think Mason would have more fun shooting us with tranq guns. He's not exactly Mr. Subtle when it comes to his plans. Seriously he's just trying to be in control."

  I grinned. "I like that you think he's just trying."

  "Hey, I've seen enough creature features to know the good guys always win."

  "You're not afraid at all, are you?"

  Instead of answering, he reached for a sandwich.

  ELEVEN

  Be careful what you wish for, my mother had always warned me. I'd wanted time alone with Connor and now I had it.

  The hours of sunlight dragged by. We weren't convinced mikes weren't around somewhere to pick up our conversations, so unless we wanted to talk with our mouths pressed to each other's ear we avoided discussing anything that might make Mason think he was on the right track. Further lab work was probably going to confirm that Connor was a Shifter—but we still held out hope that it could be explained away if that was all they had.

  We were sitting in opposite corners, because we didn't want our passion captured on video either and it was difficult to be close and not give in to temptation.

  "Best movie of all time?" I asked.

  "300. Definitely. You?"

  "Shawshank Redemption."

  His mouth dropped. "You're kidding. Were we even born when it came out?"

  "I've seen it on video."

  He grinned. "I should have known you wouldn't pick a chick flick. It's actually second on my list."

  "And you're giving me a hard time about it?"

  He nodded toward the window. "We have a lot of sunlight to get through."

  I glanced around. Smaller, empty cages were stacked along one of the walls. "You think they made this room just for us?"

  "I think they thought they were going to have lots of specimens."

  "Do you believe this serum Mason is talking about—what he wants it to do—do you believe it's even possible?"

  "I suck at biology. But if I had to guess"—he slowly shook his head—"Warning: mad scientist at work."

  I nodded. I didn't know whether to be disappointed or have hope. Whatever was finally developing between Connor and me—would it come to a screeching halt if I told him the truth?

  "Favorite TV series," he prodded as though he could tell my thoughts were drifting toward places they shouldn't.

  "24."

  He grinned as though immensely pleased. "Action girl."

  I shrugged, a little embarrassed that my answers probably didn't fall in line with the typical girl's. "What can I say? Give me a few explosions along with some unlikely situations and I'm happy."

  "I feel for Bauer. He never gets a c
hance to eat or sleep."

  "I like that no matter where he needs to be, he's only five minutes away."

  Connor laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound. I wouldn't have thought I could actually enjoy our situation.

  "We must be driving Mason crazy," I said.

  "Why? Because we're not prowling around like the animals he thinks we are?"

  "Because we're acting like we're having a good time."

  "I am having a good time." He picked at the bandage. It probably irritated him that he couldn't shift and heal the scrape. "It's kinda funny, but I never had quiet moments with Lindsey. We were always busy, always doing something. Don't get me wrong. I had fun doing things with her." He looked over at me. "But it's fun just doing nothing with you."

  "I'm going to pretend that's a compliment."

  "It's definitely a compliment. I'd come over there and give you more than that if it wouldn't give Mason a thrill."

  I couldn't stop myself from blushing and smiling at the same time. "I think he needs a girlfriend."

  "Good luck with that. She'd have to be totally oblivious to what a nutcase he is."

  Every now and then Connor worked in a jab, just in case Mason was listening. I could envision him gritting his teeth as he listened through headphones.

  "Where do you think his dad is?" I asked.

  Connor shrugged. "I always had the impression that Mason was the driving force behind this venture. His dad just hung around to provide authority."

  "Kayla said Mason is a genius. He's not much older than we are, but he's already finished with college, working in the Bio-Chrome lab."

  "The guy definitely needs a life."

  Which I figured was what prompted him to search for a way to transfer a Shifter's abilities to himself.

  We returned to our little game of bests. It was interesting learning about Connor's likes: favorite spectator sport—baseball; favorite participator sport—basketball; favorite food: rare sirloin.

  Shadows were beginning to creep in—the sun was setting. We soon heard the clank of the door unlocking. Monique came in, pushing a silver cart.

  She, too, had been part of the Bio-Chrome group that we'd led into the wilderness. She was lithe, graceful, with milk-chocolate skin and a flawless complexion. She'd seemed nice enough when we first met her, but looking at her now, I had to wonder what kind of person she was to get mixed up in this madness.

  "Hey, guys. It's great to see you again," she said with patently false cheer, bringing the cart to a halt. "I've brought you a little dinner."

  She pushed a button on a handheld gadget and the door rose slightly. She shoved two covered plates through the narrow opening.

  Connor took one and lifted the lid to reveal sirloin, rare, and what I'd told him was my favorite vegetable, even though I seldom ate it because it was so unhealthy—crispy, golden fries.

  "Cute, so Mason wants us to know he's listening," Connor said. He raised a brow at Monique. "Knife and fork?"

  She smirked. "Nice try, but we figure you'd find some way to use them to escape or hurt us. I did bring you some napkins, little ketchup packets, and some more water."

  She shoved everything else into our cage and promptly closed the door.

  "Any chance we could get some blankets?" Connor asked. "It's gonna get cold in here tonight."

  Her lovely features reflected regret. "I'm sorry. I wish I could bring you some. If you get cold, you'll just have to go all furry."

  I glared at her. "And when we turn blue? Are you going to come in here and revive us?"

  "Snuggle up. He can keep you warm."

  "I didn't expect you to be such a cold bitch," I said.

  "Look, guys, I'm just paid to do a job. Cooperate and it'll go easier for all of us. Then we can all go home. I've got zero social life out here." With that, she marched out.

  I moved over, sat next to Connor, and took the plate he offered. "The least they could have done was cut it up," I muttered.

  "They probably expect us to tear into it with our powerful bite."

  I sighed. "This is getting old fast."

  The darkness arrived, and with it the chill of the night. Maybe because they planned to house animals here they hadn't spent money to hook this part of their lab up to a heater. Or maybe— more likely—they simply weren't turning it on because they hoped to force us—or Connor, in any case—into shifting.

  After we'd finished eating, we didn't continue to play games. We retreated to our respective corners and became lost in our own thoughts. A little moonlight spilled in. I wondered if we'd still be here when the dark of the moon arrived, when the moon wasn't visible in the night sky. I unbraided my hair so it could serve as a flimsy blanket over my shoulders. I crossed my arms over my chest and held them tightly against my body striving to hold in as much warmth as possible. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I imagined a large log fire in the middle of a clearing, sparks shooting up, flames writhing—

  I heard movement and opened my eyes. Connor was crouched beside me. I knew I couldn't see him as clearly as he could see me, but there was enough moonlight for me to make out the shadows of his features.

  "Here, you can wear my sweatshirt," he began, reaching for the ends.

  I grabbed his arm to stop him. "While you turn cold? I can't do that."

  "Come on, Brit. I can hear your teeth chattering from over there. Besides, my body temperature is off. I'm always hot."

  He'd never shortened my name before. It somehow seemed more intimate. "Okay. Thanks."

  I drew his shirt on over my head. It was incredibly soft and still carried his warmth and scent. For a few minutes at least, my shivering ceased.

  Connor sat beside me, slid one arm beneath my knees, the other around my back, and pulled me onto his lap.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Press as much of you against me as you can. It'll help generate some heat."

  I wrapped my arms around his chest and buried my face in the curve of his neck.

  "Ah, your nose is cold," he said.

  I jerked back. "Sorry."

  He released a low chuckle, placed his hand on my cheek, and guided me back. "It's okay. It'll warm up."

  I inhaled his earthy scent.

  "You know what would really generate heat?" he asked after a while, then provided the answer. "If we made out."

  "You don't think Mason would post the video on YouTube?"

  "Yeah, he probably would. Or he'd threaten to if we didn't meet his demands. Course, the images might not be very clear in the dark like this."

  "Why do you think he hasn't turned on the lights?" I'd noticed them in the ceiling that afternoon.

  "Maybe they can't. Maybe they haven't paid their electric bill."

  "No, seriously. Why is he keeping us in the dark?"

  "Probably thinks we'll do things in the dark that we wouldn't do in the light." He nuzzled my neck, and I heard him inhaling my scent. "You smell good."

  "I don't see how I can."

  "The essence of you, the unique part of you that no one else smells like. The part that lets a predator track you." The entire time he talked, his mouth breathed warm air over my skin. "You smell like"—he inhaled deeply again—"mint leaves when they're crushed."

  "You smell like the forest: rich, pungent, and powerful."

  "I like that."

  He skimmed his lips along my jaw and then we were kissing, generating heat that rivaled that of a furnace. When we were this close, I wasn't afraid of what tomorrow might bring. All that mattered was now.

  "Tell me I'm not a rebound girl," I ordered when we came up for air.

  "You're not a rebound. You could never be a rebound."

  We were kissing again. His hand sneaked up and rested flat against my stomach. How could it be so warm when my hands were still cold?

  When his mouth left mine to taste the curve of my neck, I said, "You never noticed me before."

  He stilled as though he needed to think about it. "I noticed. I just di
dn't pay attention to what I was noticing."

  "Maybe what we're feeling here, between us, is Stockholm Syndrome or something. Maybe we're reacting to the situation. I've heard when hostages—"

  "We're not hostages. And what's happening between us, what I'm feeling for you"—he cradled my face between both of his hands—"it started long before Mason shot me with a tranquilizer dart. I was heading away from the Sly Fox, heading to your house, because I needed to see you, I needed to explain…what I feel for you, Brit, it's so much more powerful than anything I've ever felt for anyone. And yeah, I'm not quite comfortable with it, but I want to explore it. See where it leads."

  It sounded as though he was talking about falling in love. I gave him a crooked smile and a shaky nod. Then we were kissing again.

  For tonight at least, I thought we'd stay warm.

  I woke up in the morning with Connor's body resting over mine, shielding me from the cold. I ran my hands over his back, felt the chill on his skin, and began rubbing vigorously.

  "Feels good," he mumbled.

  We'd spent a good deal of the night kissing, hugging, and talking. Until we'd finally drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. I lifted my head and nipped his shoulder with my teeth.

  "Hey, watch it." He nuzzled just below my ear. "Remember, Shifter bites take longer to heal and they scar."

  All playfulness left me. I could bite him all day long, but with one quick shift all evidence would fade away. I knew I needed to tell him the truth about me, but I didn't want to lose this fragile bond that was developing. I'd wanted it too long and too much to risk it now.

  But I knew the closer we became, the harder it would be to keep my secret.

  "You know what I want?" he whispered in a low, sexy voice.

  "What?"

  "To shift with you."

  I went so incredibly still it was a wonder my heart still beat. He lifted himself up, grinned at me, and stroked my cheeks. "Hey, don't look so scared. I know it won't be anything like your first time, but if we wait for a full moon and make it special, it could still create the bond."

  I licked my lips, my heart breaking for what I couldn't give him. "We probably shouldn't be talking about this now."

  His brow furrowed. "Yeah, you're probably right. Sorry. Didn't mean to rush things."

 

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