03 Long Night Moon - Seasons of the Moon (7 page)

Tate regaled Rylie with stories of Dark Crash Exodus as he drove them home, punctuating it with words like “epic” and “awesome.” She smiled and nodded along. Abel lurked in the backseat of the BMW like an angry shadow.

“Need someone to call a tow truck for your car, man?” Tate asked, pausing in the middle of his story to glance at Abel in the rearview mirror.

“We’ll take care of it. Thanks,” Rylie said.

He dropped them off and left again. Abel and Rylie sat on the front step of the house without talking.

She was too embarrassed to go inside, like she had done something shameful—even though nothing happened. She hadn’t spoken to Levi Riese, much less tried to kill him. But she felt ashamed and dirty.

After working so hard to keep her wolf under control, all it took to get her mind shifting between moons was a dead rabbit and a gun with no bullets.

“Don’t tell Seth,” Abel said.

Rylie barked out a laugh. “I don’t even know what I’m not going to tell him. That you’re hunting behind his back? Or that you’re hunting more like a werewolf than a human?”

“Any of it. Don’t tell him.”

They stared at each other silently. It was a moment they had shared too often over the last few weeks—a wordless exchange where they evaluated each other, as though trying to decide who was alpha.

Rylie spoke first this time. “You’re supposed to be cured. Maybe if you tell Seth—”

He got to his feet. Abel was almost a foot taller than Rylie when they were both standing, so when she was sitting, he cut an imposing figure. “Don’t forget I’m still a hunter, and you’re still a werewolf.”

“That threat doesn’t mean anything anymore. If you were going to kill me, you would have already done it.” He spun and jumped in the Chevelle. Before he could shut the door, Rylie’s mouth opened again. She didn’t mean to say what she was thinking, but she did. “I love Seth.”

He stopped. “So?”

“So that means you might be my brother someday. If something is wrong with you, we can figure it out. All three of us. Together.”

Abel slammed his door. The Chevelle’s engine roared to life, and he tore down the hill.

Rylie’s heart ached as she watched him go.

When Rylie finally slept, she might as well have died for all that she was aware of the outside world. Her eyes shut as soon as she touched the pillow. Overwhelming darkness consumed her.

Dreams flickered at the edges of her mind. She had four legs and a mouth filled with blood.

Was it hers? Or did it belong to a fawn in a distant forest that had been dead for months?

A hand touched her. She jolted to consciousness, and for an instant, she thought Abel was sitting on the edge of her bed. She was so angry to see him that she almost snapped. Her lip peeled back with a growl.

But both sides of his face were whole and unscarred.

“Oh my God, Seth.” She flopped back onto the bed. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry.” He bent to kiss her, but Rylie dragged her pillow over her face. Her morning breath could have scared any number of vicious werewolves away.

“How did you get in?” she mumbled into the pillowcase.

“The door. How else?”

Seth tried to uncover her head, but she clamped her hands tight on the pillow.

“Did you break the lock?”

He laughed. “Gwyn let me in. It’s almost eight.”

So she had slept in. She never slept in past five anymore. But Abel’s little “hunt” meant she had gotten less than four hours of sleep, and trying to open her eyes made it feel like her eyelids were being dragged off her face.

Seth finally wrenched the pillow out of her arms, threw it across the room, and pounced. Rylie shrieked.

He pinned her to the bed, his hands pressing her wrists against the mattress, and then he was kissing her and Rylie had no idea who or what she was. He tasted warm and delicious with a hint of sugar. He’d already been into the energy drinks and protein bars. Breakfast of champions.

“Your breath is horrible,” he said with a chuckle against her cheek.

She smacked her other pillow against the back of his head, hard enough to make their foreheads bump. “Shut your—”

His lips pressed against hers, defusing her annoyance in an instant. She wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed against his body.

Rylie hadn’t done a lot of kissing before—or any at all, actually, aside from Brent in the seventh grade, who had these horrible braces—but she was certain Seth was the best in the world. Every movement of his lips and tongue woke her up in places she hadn’t felt before.

He pulled back so he could look in her eyes. His expression was dark and heated, like he was thinking about other things. Probably the same things as Rylie.

But before she could say anything, her door opened. Aunt Gwyn cleared her throat loudly.

Seth bolted upright. Rylie flattened out and hid her head behind his back. Her cheeks burned with heat. “Breakfast is ready,” Gwyn said, her voice thick with amusement. She propped the door open before leaving again.

Rylie burrowed her head in the sheets. “I think the door is supposed to be a sign,” Seth said.

“A sign that I’m going to die of humiliation,” she said. Seth slipped off the bed and kneeled next to her so their faces were level. She peeked at him with one eye over the sheet.

He grinned. “I’m starving. Are you starving?”

Her stomach growled loud enough for both of them to hear it. He laughed and dragged her out of bed.

Rylie detoured to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth. They walked into the kitchen holding hands, but Rylie kept her eyes locked to the floor so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone. Mercifully, Gwyn didn’t ask any awkward questions.

As soon as they finished eating and rinsed off their plates, they were free to check on the cows. It looked like it wouldn’t snow for a few days, so they were moving the herd out of the barn. Rylie had to break ice off the troughs so they would have something to drink other than snow.

Seth opened the barn doors and spread hay around the fields for them to graze on. Rylie sat back on the fence to watch him work. She couldn’t actually approach the cows unless she felt like causing a stampede.

When was the last time she had seen Abel working around the cows? He was at the ranch every day, but she only saw him plowing snow or repairing fences. Was he avoiding the animals now, too?

She couldn’t shake it off as paranoia. Not after what happened the night before.

He joined her on the fence when he finished.
Tell him about Abel. He has to know. Just tell him...

“What are you going to do today?” she asked, wincing inwardly.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to check out some of the murder scenes, I think. The police have cleaned up by now, but maybe they missed something.”

“Why don’t we just go after Bekah and Levi?”

“Because...” Seth hesitated. “I don’t know. We can’t do anything until we’re sure. We
have
to be sure.”

Rylie watched her feet swing over the snow. “I guess.”

“I’m going into the city today, too. I need to find a place that rents tuxedos.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you know. For the Winter Ball.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she tilted her head back to look at him. “Did you hear they changed the date to the twenty-third? The new moon?”

“You’ve been doing really good on the days before you change. The dance is pretty early. I don’t think it will be a problem, if you still want to go.”

“You haven’t even asked me,” Rylie said.

Seth’s arm tightened. “I didn’t think I had to ask.”

She pushed him away. “So what, you assumed you’d show up before the dance and I’d magically be ready to go? I need warning to get beautiful.”

“You always look beautiful,” he said, but she could tell he was just trying to dodge trouble. Seth moved toward her again and she hopped off the fence. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it’d make you mad. Want to go to the Winter Ball?”

“Well,
now
I don’t.”

“Rylie...”

“I might be a werewolf, but I’m still a—a modern woman,” she said, trying to summon up the same amount of dignity her therapist had when she said it. “I’m not going to go just because you snap your fingers at me.”

“So you’re mad I didn’t ask, but now that I did, you’re mad about that too?”

“Yes, but... no.” She folded her arms. “You have to ask me the right way.”

Seth dropped to his feet. “Okay, tell you what: You figure out how you want to be asked—if you want to be asked at all—and let me know if I should rent a tux or not. I’m going to get moving.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh as he walked away, and she felt a little guilty. He was right. How did she expect him to ask her out? Seth almost made it back to his car before she called to him. “Hey!” she shouted. He turned around. “Do you want to go to the Winter Ball with me?”

“I’ll think about it!” he yelled back.

Rylie was still grinning stupidly when she returned to the ranch house. She all but floated as she hung the rest of the Christmas lights. All thoughts of Abel had vanished. Her brain was stuck with Seth, and kissing in bed that morning, and the Winter Ball.

The dance was at a venue in the city. Rylie had heard some of the senior girls talking about getting hotel rooms to stay overnight with their boyfriends. Seth was a senior, too. She wondered if he’d want a room if she wasn’t becoming a werewolf that night.

Rylie stared at herself in the mirror over the fireplace, and gold eyes stared back. A thrill shot through her stomach.

She was sixteen now—practically an adult. A lot of her guy friends back home had been having sex since they were fourteen or fifteen. Tyler even hooked up when he was thirteen, which had to be some kind of record. He sure bragged about it enough.

But she couldn’t get excited about the prospect of a romantic evening. Seth and Rylie would definitely have a long night together, but they wouldn’t enjoy it. He’d have to chase her all over the wilderness while she ate rabbits and picked fights with coyotes.

It wasn’t exactly the most romantic thing she could imagine.

Gwyn appeared behind her reflection, and Rylie’s cheeks flamed with heat. She jumped off the chair, feeling as embarrassed as though her thoughts were imprinted on her forehead.

“Are you busy?” Gwyn asked.

She picked at a box of decorations. “Oh yeah. Really busy.”

“Want help?”

“I was actually going to do some homework and go into town. I need to buy a dress. Do you want me to get anything while I’m there?”

“We could use groceries. I’ll give you a list,” Gwyn said. Rylie could feel eyes burning on the back of her neck. “But we need to talk, babe.”

Oh God
.

“When you go into town today—anytime you’re in town at all, actually—I don’t want you at Abel and Seth’s apartment. I know you’ve been over a couple of times. Should have told you sooner, I guess.”

Rylie spluttered. “What? They’re over here all the time.”

“There’s no adults there—and no, Abel doesn’t count. There’s more to adulthood than being over eighteen.” Rylie opened her mouth to protest, but Gwyn cut her off with a slash of her hand. “They’re good boys. Our doors will always be open to them. But you can’t go over there, and you can’t have Seth in your room. That’s the rule.”

“But that’s stupid!”

“I know.” Gwyn heaved a sigh. “I remember being a teenager. You know so much more than I do. But you’re only sixteen, Rylie. You’re too young to have sex.”

Rylie’s mouth fell open. Maybe her aunt
was
psychic. “I wasn’t—I’m not—” She smothered her face in her hands. “I’m going to crawl into the duck pond and die.”

“Suit yourself.”

“We’re not—I mean, we haven’t—it’s not like...
ugh
. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Sex is complicated, Rylie,” Gwyn said. “Sure, you can wear condoms and mostly prevent pregnancy—”

Rylie threw her hands in the air. “I’m not listening to this!”

Her aunt chuckled. “You can’t ignore me because it’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t go to their apartment. Okay? Happy?”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Gwyn sank onto the couch with a sigh. “So why do you need a dress?”

Grateful for the change in subject, Rylie sat on the arm beside her. “The Winter Ball is coming up. Christmas Eve.”

“Is that a school event?” she asked. Rylie nodded. “I’m fine with it so long as there are chaperones.” She made a few notes on a piece of paper. “Here’s what we need from the store. Take some cash with you, get something nice. Don’t bother bringing back change. Whatever’s on my desk is fair game.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Rylie surrendered the box of decorations and headed back to her aunt’s bedroom.

Most of the house was decorated in country casual, but Gwyn’s room could only be described as a “boudoir.” Everything was dark wood, her sheets were crimson silk, and there was a weird velvet painting of a horse over the headboard.

Gwyn didn’t trust banks, so she kept most of her money stuck in weird places around her desk. Rylie took a wad of cash out of the pen cup and hesitated before leaving again.

There were a lot of yellow pill bottles strewn around the room. It seemed like they were multiplying. Rylie worried her lower lip between her teeth. She didn’t like seeing so many pills—it meant things weren’t getting better. Stranger still, there was concealer in a dozen different shades on her bedside table, like Gwyn was trying to figure out what worked best.

She went back to the living room before she could see anything else strange and worrying.

Gwyn met her at the door, watching as Rylie put on boots and a jacket with a little smile.

“I remember when you were barely taller than my goats.”

Rylie rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all mushy on me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Remember the spices. They’re listed on the back.”

They hugged, and Rylie took the opportunity to sneak a close look at Gwyn’s face. She
was
wearing a lot of makeup. It looked like she was covering sores around her mouth. How hadn’t Rylie noticed?