Blood Moon (Book Three - The Ravenscliff Series) (11 page)

“Why are you interested in her? She wasn’t Nightwing. She was just an ordinary woman who died young.” She looked over at Devon and made a face, as if suddenly figuring something out. “Oh, I get it. You’re thinking
my
great-grandmother was also
your
great-grandmother.”

“I don’t know what I think any more,” Devon said.

“It’s not true, Devon,” Cecily said. “We’re not siblings. You’ve got to believe that!”

“Cecily, we don’t know—”

She scowled. “I hate seeing you with Natalie. I hate it!”

“Well, I hate seeing you smoking.” He saw the surprise on Cecily’s face. “I’ve seen you and D.J. puffing away. I can smell it on your coat when you come in. You used to hate cigarettes and get on D.J.’s case all the time about his smoking, and now you’re doing it, too. Real smart.”

“I can do what I want and see who I want, Devon.”

“Be my guest. Get lung cancer. Turn yourself into a smelly, stinky, slacker mess.”

“I thought you said you wanted to be friends!”

“I do. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Neither should I,” Cecily grumbled.

Why was talking to her so hard? Why did they seem to fight all the time now?

He’d talked about it with Rolfe, about these crazy, mixed-up feelings he had for Cecily and Natalie. His Guardian had assured him that it took a long, long time to get over a girl. It had taken years, Rolfe said, for him to really fall out of love with Mrs. Crandall and to fall in love with Roxanne.
Years
.

Except, Devon was convinced, Rolfe never really did stop loving Amanda Muir Crandall. He was still smitten, no matter how much he denied it.

Is that what it’s going to be like for me?
Devon shuddered at the thought as he sat down at the table, trying to return his attention to the book.
Am I going to keep having these feelings for Cecily the rest of my life, no matter how much I care about Natalie?

Horatio Muir had two women in his life, too.

That much was obvious as Devon concentrated on the old photographs of Horatio and his family that were printed in this book. There they were: Master of Ravenscliff, with his demure wife, Chloe, beside him, holding their third son, Randolph, in her arms. In this photo, Jackson was a boy of eight or so, already reaching his father’s shoulder, a cocky grin on his dark face. Next to him stood the gaunt middle son, Gideon, about whom no one seemed to know much about. But as the teen sorcerer stared down into the face of the frail Chloe—who would die only weeks after this picture was taken—Devon was equally certain of something else:

That was not the woman he had seen in his vision.

So Jackson Muir had had a different mother from his two brothers, a woman not recorded in the family history books. A woman who was not frail and delicate like Chloe, but instead vibrant and powerful. A woman, Devon was certain, who was every bit as Nightwing as her husband.

The next day, the ring gave Devon a final peek into Ravenscliff’s history—of yet another Muir wife, everyone’s favorite ghost, Emily Muir.

Except for the day her portrait had cried real tears, Devon hadn’t seen Emily in a while. But ever since he’d found her prayerbook in Clarissa’s room, he’d known she was connected somehow to the mystery of the imprisoned sorceress. In the vision shown to him by his father’s ring, Devon watched as Emily sat alone in her room in the West Wing, waiting for her husband, the Madman. She stood and started to pace, glancing up at the clock. It was past midnight, getting close to one in the morning, but still she waited, growing more frantic all the time.

And then Jackson returned, his black cape swirling around him, his voice soft and reassuring. He took his wife in his arms and kissed her. Jackson loved Emily. Devon had learned that much—but that didn’t stop him from treating her badly. In his arms, Emily melted. She forgave him his indiscretions, took him back time and time again. Until that fateful day, Devon knew, when, having finally had enough, poor Emily flung herself from Devil’s Rock.

Maybe I really am part of this family
, Devon thought, a little amused, as he drifted off to sleep.
Because none of its male members seem to have had an easy time with women, either.

“Devon, it’s going to be a full moon tonight.”

On the morning that Alexander awakened him with that report, Devon felt the temperature in his room rising. His sheets were damp with sweat. He bolted upright, looking around.

Something was about to happen.

“Did you hear me, Devon?” Alexander asked. “A full moon. Tonight.”

“Yeah,” the teen said. “I heard you. I already know that tonight’s a full moon.”

He stared over at the boy, dressed for school, face freshly scrubbed and glowing. Alexander didn’t know Devon had been waiting for the next full moon, counting the nights until the beast returned.

“So what’s it to you?” Devon asked, swinging his legs off the bed and placing his feet against the floor. “What’s with waking me up with the weather report?”

“I just thought you’d like to know.” The boy smiled. “About the moon, I mean.”

Devon looked into Alexander’s round button eyes and his breath caught in his throat. The look on the boy’s face—Devon had seen it before. A cold, knowing stare. The last time Alexander had looked like that, the Madman had been playing games with the kid’s mind.

“You okay, Alexander? Something going on?”

The boy smiled again. “I just thought you’d want to know about the full moon.”

He turned and walked out of the room. The heat ratcheted up another couple of degrees.

“Great,” Devon said. “Just great.”

Not only did he have the beast to contend with that night, now he might have another potential possession going on with Alexander, too.

We all ought to just move away
, Devon thought as he made his way into the bathroom.
Get outta this house. Buy a condo in Florida with D.J.’s parents
.

He couldn’t help but smirk. Somehow he couldn’t picture Amanda Muir Crandall in her jewels and gowns living in a condo in Florida.

But his levity didn’t last long. The heat troubled him, and not just because it turned him all gross and sweaty once again after he stepped out of the shower. It meant one of two things: there were demons present, or another sorcerer was nearby. He knew from last time that the beast wasn’t a demon, so he wondered if it signaled a return of Clarissa. Or worse: the Madman. His dream the other night made him question how securely Jackson was imprisoned in the Hell Hole. Could Alexander’s weird behavior mean the Madman was loose again?

But he couldn’t spend too much time pondering all these questions; he had to get ready for school. He would just have to stay on his guard all day.

Sitting in the backseat of Bjorn’s old Cadillac, Devon kept glancing over at Alexander, sitting next to him. The boy was stiff and quiet, his hands folded in his lap. Normally he was squirming, digging into his lunchbox and munching on candy bars. Today he sat glassy-eyed staring straight ahead.

“So you want to talk about anything, buddy?” Devon whispered, not wanting to draw attention from Bjorn up front.

Alexander’s head turned almost robot-like to look at Devon. “How about if we talk about the moon?”

Creepy.
The kid had turned all creepy on him again, like he was when Devon had first come to Ravenscliff. He shook off a shudder and asked, “So what’s got you so fascinated by the full moon all of a sudden?”

“It has such power,” the boy said, in a voice not his own. It was deeper, lower, too modulated for a boy of nine. “Such power, don’t you think, Devon?”

Devon leaned in toward him and spoke in a low voice so Bjorn couldn’t hear. “Okay, buddy. No more fooling around. Something’s got a hold of you again. I’m not sure if you can hear me, Alexander, but I’m not going to let whatever it is remain for very long. As soon as I figure out what’s going on—”

The boy began to laugh. A low, shuddering sound that bubbled up from his chest and spilled from his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Bjorn asked, an eyebrow lifted at them in the rearview mirror.

“Nothing,” Devon said, and he meant it.

They dropped Alexander off at his school. For a moment Devon considered telling Bjorn what he suspected, but his intuition, which he always trusted, warned him against it. Alexander would be fine for now, he told himself. He’d get through the school day without any incident.

It’s tonight—when the full moon has risen—that I’ve got to watch out.

Coming up behind Marcus at his locker, Devon placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You wearing the pendant?”

“Never without it,” Marcus assured him, and he tugged it out from under his shirt to prove it.

But Devon had also seen the pentagram in front of Natalie. He found her just as she was about to go into her advanced literature class. “Here,” Devon said, pulling from his pocket another necklace with a five-pointed star, one that hadn’t been there a moment before. “I want you to wear this.”

“For
me
?” Natalie’s beautiful brown eyes, lacy with dark eyelashes, flickered up at him.

“Yeah, for you.”

“Oh, Devon, thank you.”

She placed it over her head and dropped it over her blouse. Then she reached up to encircle Devon’s neck with her arms. She kissed him full on the lips.

“I’ll wear it always,” she purred.

Devon’s eyes moved past her and suddenly locked onto Cecily’s. She was in the corridor, walking beside D.J., and she’d witnessed the whole thing.

The last bell rang. “I’ve got to get to class,” Natalie said, pulling away from him. “But I want you to know, Devon, that I really, really like you. I have ever since you first came to Misery Point. This necklace means so much to me. Thank you so much.”

He managed to smile. He couldn’t exactly throw cold water on her romantic moment by explaining that the necklace was for protection, not anything else. Except maybe it was. He
did
like Natalie. Giving her something special—even if it was the same exact pendant that Marcus was wearing—wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

So why did the fact that Cecily saw them bother him so much?

After school, D.J. gave them all a ride home. They stopped at Gio’s for pizza. Their little gang hadn’t hung out much in the last several weeks. They used to be like glue: while the other kids had headed to after-school sports or activities, the five of them had met at Gio’s to strategize their demon hunting. Now the crisis they faced wasn’t nearly so specific—Devon wasn’t even sure what they were up against—but he figured it was time to bring his band of comrades up to date.

He told them all about Alexander’s strange behavior, about the heat he’d felt at Ravenscliff, about the fear that the beast would return tonight, about his strange dream of the Madman.

“He’s getting restless in the Hell Hole,” Cecily said, shuddering. “It’s what Mother’s always feared. That he won’t stay in there, that he’ll come back.”

“He can’t come back, not unless someone opens the Hell Hole,” Devon assured her.

“And only a Sorcerer of the Nightwing can do that,” D.J. added.

“And this is the only Nightwing we know,” Natalie said, gripping Devon’s arm. “And he’s not about to do any such thing.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Santos,” Cecily said, “but I’ll point out, yet again, that
I
am also Nightwing. You seem to keep forgetting that fact.”

“Yeah, but, Cess,” D.J. told her, “you haven’t got the powers so—”

“I
know
I don’t have my rightful powers!” Cecily snapped. “Thanks for rubbing it in, D.J. Sheesh!” She pulled away from him in the booth.

“Look, we’ve got to stop bickering with each other,” Devon said. “Let’s all meet at Rolfe’s tonight. If the beast makes a return appearance—”

“Did you know there was a beast like this once before in Misery Point?”

It was Marcus, who hadn’t said much since they arrived at the pizza joint and Devon began telling his stories. He had just sat there, peeling the cheese off his slices and then rolling it up and eating it with his fingers.

Devon turned to look at him. Sure enough, there was the pentagram. It was there almost constantly now.

“What do you mean? When?”

“My mother told me. She remembered when she was a real little girl almost getting attacked by a beast just like the one the newspapers were describing last month.”

Devon was fascinated. “What else did she tell you, Marcus?”

“Nothing. It was like she was almost sorry she even brought it up. Guess it left her pretty traumatized.”

Natalie was looking at Devon with her big brown eyes. They were filled with fear, and he wanted to protect her. “Do you think there’s a connection, Devon?” she asked.

“I don’t know. There’s so much we don’t know. But I have a feeling that tonight, when the moon rises, we’re going to start learning a whole lot of things.”