By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) (22 page)

If that wasn't the lousiest proposition in
all of history, I didn't know what was. It was so matter-of-fact.
Not exactly the way I imagined this moment.

"I'll do everything," I continued. "You just
have to show up. We'll make an appearance at the dance, and then
we'll..." My words trailed off. It sounded so cold, so absurd.
"Okay?"

He shook his head. "No—it's not okay."

His sharp tone made me jump. Was he really
going to refuse me?

"It's not okay," he repeated. "I should be
the one asking you. You should be happily doing all of your girl
things—dress shopping, getting your hair done—all of it. Instead
you're running around trying to help me."

Without warning, he stomped to the nearest
wall and promptly put his fist through it. The loud crash seemed to
ricochet through the quiet house. I gaped at him, shocked.

Light appeared beneath my door, followed a
moment later by my father's voice in the hall. "Makenna?"

I scrambled out of bed.

"Hide!" I whispered, the word dying on my
lips. With a speed that wasn't human, Ty shot out of my bedroom
window.

My father opened the door, but I stopped it.
It hit my shin, hard.

"Sorry, Dad... I knocked my lamp over."

He tried pushing into my room anyway.

"I'm not decent," I said. That stopped his
forward progress. I put the door between us, opening it just a
crack. His sleep tousled head peered in at me.

"A lamp? Good God, Makenna. It sounded like
something went through your wall."

Little did he know how accurate he was.

"It's fine," I said, pushing on the door as
he tried to enter again. "Not dressed, remember?"

"Oh, right.." He craned his neck, as though
that could somehow let him see inside my room.

"Sorry I woke you, but I'm fine," I said.
"Night."

He was still mumbling under his breath when I
closed the door. I hurried to the window and leaned out, dreading
finding Ty sprawled on the yard below. The ground was empty. I
whispered his name several times, and at last he appeared below. He
seemed intact and okay.

"Stay there," I said. I rounded on my heel
and moved toward my bedroom door, pressing my ear to it. No sounds
came from the hallway, but I couldn't be sure my Dad was settled in
bed yet. Ty could be hurt, though. I would have to chance it.

I returned to the window. "I'll let you in
the back door," I whispered. I started back the way I came.

"That isn't necessary."

I whipped around.

Crouched on my windowsill, Ty reminded me
more of an animal than the boy I'd always known. His clothing,
plaid boxers and T-shirt, seemed completely out of place on the
strange vision before me. With lithe movements, he stepped down
without so much as stirring the curtains around him.

My knees gave out, and I fell on my backside
with a soft thud. "That's impossible," I whispered, hysteria rising
in my throat to choke off the words.

He stepped toward me, hand outstretched, and
I reflexively scooted backwards. I immediately regretted it. The
look of horror that darkened his features was instant and intense.
Without a word, he turned and fled out the window.

I scrambled to my feet and pulled the
curtains back. He was long gone. Cursing under my breath, I quickly
pulled on jeans and tennis shoes. Like hell I would let him run off
again.

o0o

The night was cloudless, and just the barest
slice of moon hung in the sky. I spared it the briefest glance as I
hurried through the trees. I knew Ty wouldn't go back to his house.
Tonight he was angry and hurt and blaming himself for
everything.

The shed was unlocked and empty. After
descending the cellar stairs to find the room deserted, I slid down
to sit on the bottom step. I couldn't help the rush of anger and
guilt I felt for my part in all of this. How could I have flinched
away from him like that? The speed he had shown—the way he had
entered my room in that split second—it had scared me. Just what
would I be facing with the full moon? And, how in the world would I
be a match for him—for the other one?

So many thoughts swirled in my mind; I felt
suffocated by them. There was nothing to do but wait.

Crazy enough, I must've fallen asleep at some
point. Last I remembered, it felt as though I would never be able
to sleep again. The next, a slight creak of wood on the steps
startled me awake. I whipped around to find Ty seated a few stairs
above me. He sat with his head down, elbows on his knees.

"Ty! Thank God. I thought—"

"I can feel it coming, Mac," he said. "The
wolf."

His words silenced me. I had been prepared
for anything but the fear I heard in his voice.

"It's like this constant ache beneath my
skin. Not pain, exactly...more like an itch that every fiber in my
body wants to scratch. The change...it's horrible. I can't describe
it." He paused, closing his eyes. "When it happens, I can feel my
bones breaking."

"Jesus," I whispered, incapable of saying
anything else.

"Part of me wants it to happen; for it to be
over. And when it happens..." His head sank even lower. "When it
happens, I'm relieved. It feels good—being the wolf."

We sat for a long time; a dim light from the
shed above played on the steps between us. When I could stand the
silence no longer, I moved to sit beside him. When I pressed my
body against his, I was glad to feel strong arms encircle me.

"It'll be okay," I said, shocked by the
tremor I felt go through him.

"I'm fast—you wouldn't believe how fast. And
strong. And the anger I feel sometimes—I can't control it." He
buried his face in my neck, holding on to me tight. "And every day
I'm getting stronger—it's getting stronger."

"I'm going to get you through this," I said,
not really sure if I was up to the task. All I knew was that I had
to be.

Considering the night we'd had, I was
surprised by Ty's mood the next morning. Rather than the doom and
gloom I expected to surround him, he was actually rather upbeat.
Not exactly his former self—but close.

He had slipped out my window near daybreak,
and when he returned he unabashedly swept me into his arms and
kissed me—right in front of my parents.

My father's eyebrows shot into the
stratosphere, and he stood, the newspaper he had been reading going
slack in his right hand. I stepped back from Ty and flashed my
father a tight smile. He looked from me to my mother, who gave him
a reassuring nod. When that didn't work, she glared in that certain
way of hers that always made him back down. He huffed something
under his breath, but remained standing.

Ty, who obviously hadn't thought any of this
through, quickly released the arm he had slung around my waist. Two
pink dots appeared high on his cheeks.

I exchanged a worried glance with my mother.
She put a staying hand on my father's shoulder, who seemed tensed
for battle.

"Your breakfast is getting cold," she said,
calmly.

"It's cereal," my father huffed. He pointed a
finger at Ty and me, looking remarkably like a confused toddler.
"What—when?"

"Sit," my mother said, this time firmly.

My father reluctantly sat down. I glanced up
at Ty who clearly wished he could be anywhere but there. That said,
I was surprised when he cleared his throat and stepped up to the
table. Dad eyed him like a bug he wanted to step on.

"Rich—Mr. Wilhelm," Ty quickly corrected
himself.

My mother smiled up at him, giving him a
slight nod of approval.

"I wanted..." He stopped and looked back at
me, as though for help.

I shrugged slightly. Being as I had no idea
what he was about to do, he was on his own.

"I wanted to know if I could have your
permission to take Makenna to Homecoming." Ty blurted the words out
in one long breath.

I gaped at his back. It was all so
Father
Knows Best
. Torn between the urge to smack him or laugh at the
ridiculousness of it all, I looked to my parents to see their
reaction. My mother wore a very satisfied grin on her face and had
leaned back in her chair to study my father. The latter clearly
hadn't expected this. Leave it to Ty to diffuse the situation in a
way that not only got him off the hook but earned him brownie
points to boot.

"Fine," my father said, roughly shaking open
his newspaper and burying his head inside. I saw the beginnings of
a smile as he turned the page and my mother nudged him under the
table with her foot. He quickly pulled his lips back in line. He
even managed to bark out a sharp goodbye as Ty and I slipped out
the back door.

o0o

Whether he was really on board with the dance
or not, Ty certainly acted like he was. At lunch with Melanie, he
declared the next week Homecoming week.

"I mean it," he said. "I want you girls out
buying dresses and getting ready for the dance. I'll be fine
working on things alone."

"There isn't time for this," I said. "Listen,
I'll just tell my parents we decided not to—"

Ty raised a hand, cutting me off. "We're
going."

I chewed my lower lip and exchanged a look
with Melanie. She shrugged, clearly as unexcited as I was by the
idea. There was too much to do. And with my inability to track down
a capture gun, I had even more to worry about.

Lost to my thoughts, it took a moment to
register that Ty was dangling something in front of my face. It was
small, metallic, and looked remarkably like the keys to his car.
For added measure, he shook them, making them jingle like a wind
chime.

"What?" I said. "Are you serious?"

The day I would get the chance to drive Ty's
car—well, quite frankly, was the day I thought hell would freeze
over.

He closed his eyes, as though gathering his
courage. When he opened them again, he nodded. "Yes." With that, he
dropped the keys into my awaiting palm.

I cast a glance around the room—at
Melanie—then back at Ty again. Was this really happening?

"Don't make me regret this," he said, taking
a large bite of the sandwich in front of him.

Lest he change his mind, I quickly pocketed
the set. Only then did I have second thoughts. Could I really be
bought off so easily? I opened my mouth to make another protest
against the dance when movement in the corner of the room caught my
eye.

Two seniors had pushed back their chairs to
face one another across their table. Their exact words were hard to
decipher, but the tone of the conversation left little doubt that
it was a heated one. I recognized the first boy—Trent Perry. I was
surprised to see him in school. Last I'd heard, he had been
suspended—something to do with drugs.

The other boy was Caleb Martin.

The latter was the calmer of the two, but
even from this distance, I could see the tension thrumming through
his body. Trent was taller and easily outweighed Caleb by a good
thirty pounds. If this argument came to blows, my money was on
him.

I half turned to ask Ty to tell me what they
were saying, but just then Caleb's arm shot out, grabbing Trent by
the scruff of the shirt. He leaned in close, almost nose to nose
with the taller boy, and spoke low. When he was finished, Caleb
released the boy's shirt so suddenly that Trent stumbled backwards
before regaining his footing.

The two boys exchanged a few more words, but
despite his obvious anger, Trent loped out of the room. Caleb,
outwardly unruffled by the encounter, shook black hair out of his
face and gathered the meager remains of his lunch and tossed it in
a nearby trash can.

His dark eyes caught mine. I quickly turned
away, embarrassed to have been caught staring at him yet again.
When I looked back, he was making his way out of the room.

I turned back to Melanie and Ty. Ty lifted
his eyebrows at my obvious distraction. I smiled and shook my head,
indicating it was nothing. Try as I could, however, I couldn't pick
back up on the thread of their conversation.

I was too busy formulating a plan in my
head.

Before leaving the cafeteria, I patted my
jeans pocket, comforted by the weight of the car keys resting
there.

It didn't take much effort to talk Melanie
into bypassing shopping for the day. We both felt the urgency to
keep up with our research efforts.

"Besides," I said, climbing into the drivers'
side of Ty's Cutlass. "Mom will kill me if I don't include her.
We'll all go tomorrow instead."

Melanie, in the process of buckling herself
into the passenger seat, paused. "You know, Mac...I don't think I'm
going to the dance."

There was fear in her hazel eyes. I realized,
belatedly, that Ty and I had both worked under the assumption that
she would take no issue with going to the dance. I hadn't stopped
to consider the fact she may not have a date and probably wouldn't
relish the idea of going alone—or worse, as a third wheel.

I made a show of adjusting the seat and
mirrors, and watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of my
eye. Not one to wear make-up or dress up for school, Melanie tended
to blend into the background. She was pretty though—in an
understated way. With her hair swept up and just the right dress,
she might be able to shine a little for once.

A date was another matter. As far back as I
could recall, I couldn't remember her being linked romantically
with anyone. She had had her crushes on various boys when we were
younger, but it wasn't likely she had ever been on a date. Not that
I knew of at any rate.

"You know, Mel..." I began, buckling my own
seat belt. "Ty has lots of friends. I'm sure..."

The petite girl turned bright red, and
covered her face with her hands. "Oh God, please don't. I'd be so
embarrassed."