Moonlight (5 page)

“What is that stuff, Professor?” Connor asked.

“Just some equipment we’ll use to collect samples once we get farther into the wilderness.”

“You must be planning to collect a lot of samples.”

Dr. Keane smiled in a way that reminded me of my therapist when he was letting me know that he knew things my feeble mind would never dream of. “I intend to get my money’s worth out of this trip. And I only brought students with avid curiosities, so I’m sure there is much out here that they’ll want to examine closely.”

So Mason wasn’t the only one with resentment issues. I had no idea what the park charged for the use of sherpas. I only knew that I was paid minimum wage. The thought was that our real reward was being able to spend our summer in the wilds. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t love what we were doing.

The other grad students—David, Jon, and Monique— sat together in a cluster, while the sherpas mingled together. David and Jon seemed a little old to be grad students. I wondered if they’d decided later in life what they wanted to do. I thought they were probably close to thirty. Monique was supermodel-lithe and lovely. She was tall with milk-chocolate skin and a flawless complexion.

Considering Dr. Keane’s attitude about getting his money’s worth, I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to separate ourselves into separate camps: sherpas versus grad students. I dug a water bottle out of my backpack and sat beside Mason. He was picking at his thumbnail.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Oh, chipped it when we were packing supplies this morning. It keeps catching on things.”

“I have a nail file you can use.” I unzipped the pocket on my backpack.

“You brought a file?” He was truly astounded.

“Sure. No girl with any respect for her manicure travels in the wilds without a nail file.”

Laughing, he took my offering and smoothed out his nail before handing the file back to me. I put it back into my pack.

“You need to be drinking,” I reminded him.

“Oh yeah, right.” He grabbed a bottle from his backpack and guzzled for a few seconds. Then he peered over at me. “What do you know about that guy?”

“What guy?”

“The guy who thinks he’s in charge.”

“If you’re referring to Lucas, he
is
in charge. Has papers and everything to prove it.” I wasn’t sure why I was defending his superior behavior.

“Whatever. Is he from around here?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think he goes to college somewhere else but he grew up around here.”

“Weird hair. I mean, who has hair that’s all different colors?”

I sort of liked it, but I didn’t defend it because I didn’t want anyone thinking I had a thing for Lucas. I wasn’t quite sure how to define what I felt for him. On the one hand, he was incredibly hot. On the other hand, he was older and seemed way more experienced than I was. The truth was, he intimidated me a little.

“So what about you?” Mason asked, interrupting my strange musings. “I overheard you say you were from Dallas. This place is practically near Canada. What made you decide to work so far from home?”

My gut said to give a flippant answer, but the whole key to effective therapy was facing my past and not hiding from it. Besides, I was still having some residual creepy feelings from the nightmare. Maybe I needed to unburden, and Mason seemed like a nice guy, someone who was interested in me anyway. I touched the braided leather he’d given me and said as quietly as I could, “My shrink recommended it.”

“You go to a shrink?”

I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or appalled. The kids at my school tended to think if anyone went to a psychiatrist, she was on the verge of going on a killing spree, so I never talked about it with anyone. At home I was much more closed off within myself than I was here in the wild. I felt more at home here than I did in Dallas. Given a choice between living in the city or in the forest, I’d choose the forest every time. Suddenly I felt a need to connect with someone on a level I never had reached before. I nodded at Mason and admitted, “Yeah.”

“So what—you’re bipolar or something?”

Okay, there it was—the negative connotation all wrapped up with a little bow. “Let’s just say I have issues.” And because he’d hit a sore spot, I continued tartly, “My parents were killed in these woods. My therapist says I need to embrace this forest in order to get past them dying here.”

“Wow, that’s some heavy shit.”

Obviously he had a problem discussing emotional matters, and whatever connection I thought I’d felt with him earlier had been totally misguided. Already I regretted opening up to him. “Yeah. I don’t usually tell people that. Forget I mentioned it. I don’t know why I told you.”

“No, hey, my bad. I’ve never known anyone whose parents were killed. I mean, I just wasn’t expecting that. How were they killed? Wild animals?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Not that they died, but that you don’t want to talk about it. From the moment we met yesterday, I’ve kinda felt this connection with you. Really, if you want to talk, I’m here.”

I gave him a hesitant smile. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Besides, I’m safe, you know? You’ll just see me for a couple of weeks and then I’ll go away. Unless . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Unless what?” I prodded.

“Unless we get really tight on this trip. Then who knows? With email and text messaging, long-distance relationships can work.”

Whip out the engagement ring already.
“Whoa, you move fast.”

“Just throwing out possibilities.” He leaned toward me. “I’m definitely interested in possibilities.”

I was, too. Or I thought I was. So why didn’t I give him a wink and nudge him in the right direction? Why did I find myself glancing around as though I were doing something wrong? And why did I nearly come out of my skin when I saw Lucas leaning against a tree watching me?

What was with this guy and his constant lurking at the edge of the group? And why in the world was I wondering what sort of possibilities
he
might hold?

“We need to head out if we want to make our designated camp by dark,” Lucas suddenly announced. “City Girl, you’re still with me.”

As a rule, I’m a team player—except when I’m not. I was still close enough to the village that he might send me back if I staged a mutiny. After tripping earlier, I couldn’t even argue that I didn’t need watching.

I grabbed my backpack, shrugged it on, and trudged over to him. “Is it really necessary for me to walk in your shadow?”

“For now.” He jerked his head toward something behind me. “Did you want to walk with
him
?”

I knew he was referring to Mason. “Maybe. What does it matter to you?”

“You get into trouble and all you’ll see is his butt as he runs off to ensure his own safety.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m a good judge of people. Mason is all bark and no bite.”

“And I guess you’re all bite.”

A corner of his mouth hitched up in what might have been a smile. “Depends on whether or not someone needs biting.”

Before I could respond with something clever, his version of a smile disappeared and he said, “There could be danger out there. Stick with me for a while longer.”

He was talking to
me
about danger? Did he not know my history? Why did he care anyway? Because I was the newbie? Or was there more to it? And why did I want there to be more? I considered arguing further, but everyone had gathered around and I was the holdup.

I shrugged—as much as I was able to shrug with a two-ton backpack on my shoulders. “Let’s go, Boss.”

FOUR

“Werewolves? You really believe in the existence of werewolves?” I nearly strangled myself holding back my laughter as I asked the question. While I knew that in retail the customer was always right, I didn’t know if this mantra applied to the campers who had hired me to serve as a guide. In this case, they were definitely wrong, and I just couldn’t be silent about it.

Several of us were sitting by the campfire with Dr. Keane. The rest of our day had gone pretty much like that morning: trudging through the forest, stopping for a break, trudging on. Until we’d reached this large clearing and Lucas had announced we’d set up camp here. It had been dusk by then. Now it was night and we were toasting marshmallows. Cliché, but oh, they were good.

Dr. Keane had been regaling us with ancient tales about werewolves, which had been fascinating—absurd, but fascinating—and then he’d segued into talking about wolves spotted in the wilderness around here. Wolves he was convinced were, in reality, werewolves. He believed this particular national forest was their hunting ground, where they hid away from the real world.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Dr. Keane asked now, in answer to my question. He was sitting on a little folding stool, looking very professorial. All he needed was a red bow tie. “Every culture has a legend about man shifting into an animal shape. Legends are rooted in fact.”

“I’m with Kayla on this one,” Lindsey said, sitting beside Connor. “Werewolves exist only in fiction. Look at Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster. They’ve all been debunked.”

“I don’t know,” Connor said. “Dr. Keane could be onto something here. There was a guy in my dorm that could have been a werewolf. He never shaved, cut his hair, or bathed. It was hard to call him human.”

I bit back more laughter. Apparently none of us were taking his theories seriously.

“But what if it
is
true? That werewolves exist and they inhabit this forest?” Mason asked. He was sitting on a log beside me. He was very particular about his marshmallows, toasting them slowly and carefully to a golden brown. On a good day, I didn’t have that much patience. Tonight I was so tired that I had none at all. My marshmallows were quickly poked into the fire and tossed into my mouth.

“Then we’re all doomed to die,” I quipped in an evil horror-movie scientist kind of way. All I needed was a flash of lightning and a boom of thunder for effect.

Connor and Lindsey chuckled at my theatrical display. The prof’s students even smiled.

“Or we all turn into werewolves,” Lucas said ominously. He wasn’t sitting in our circle, but was leaning against a tree. “Isn’t that how it works, Professor? A werewolf bites you and then you become one?”

“That’s one possibility. The other is that it’s genetic. Werewolves are born with some sort of genetic mutation—”

“What? Like in
X-Men
?” Lucas interrupted with a smirk.

“Even fiction has an element of truth in it,” Dr. Keane insisted.

“But why are the werewolves the ‘mutations’?” Lucas made little quote marks in the air. “What if everyone else is the real mutation? Maybe we all started out as werewolves.”

“Interesting theory, but if that were the case, they’d be the dominant species, don’t you think? They’d be hunting us instead of us hunting them.”

“We’re
hunting
them?” Rafe challenged.

“I gave the wrong impression,” Dr. Keane said. “Discovering them is what I was referring to.”

“If they don’t want to be
discovered
, maybe they’ll come after us,” Brittany said. “What then?”

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about tonight,” Lucas said, glancing up at the sky. “No full moon.”

“That works only if the transformation is lunar controlled,” Dr. Keane said. “What if they could transform at will?”

“Then I’d say we’re in big trouble.” His delivery was deadpan, and I wasn’t sure if he was serious or teasing.

“
You’re
not buying into this, are you?” I asked. Lucas was the last one I thought would swallow this ridiculous notion of werewolves.

He winked at me and my heart gave a little tug. “Just know that when I zip up my tent tonight, I’m not leaving it until morning.”

“Tents won’t stop a werewolf,” Mason said, before blowing on his perfect marshmallow.

“There’s never been a documented account of a healthy wolf attacking a human,” Lucas challenged him.

“We’re not talking wolves, dude,” Mason said sharply, turning to glare at Lucas. When he did, his stick took a dip and his gooey marshmallow landed in the dirt. I didn’t know why that bothered me. All that work for nothing, maybe. “We’re talking
werewolves
. A person who turns into a beast. They’re out there, and we’re going to prove it.”

And earlier you questioned
my
being in therapy?

“Is that what this expedition is about?” Lucas asked in a deadly calm voice that sent a shiver racing up my spine.

“Mason is just a little overzealous,” Dr. Keane said. “We are hoping to see some wolves and perhaps study them. I’ll admit to being fascinated by the notion of lycanthropy. Do I truly believe it exists? No, of course not, but I like to be open-minded enough to leave room for the possibility.”

“Wolves were extinct in this area until about twenty years ago, when a few were brought in to repopulate the area. The original wolves have probably died off by now, but their descendents have flourished. They’re a protected species,” Lucas said.

“We’re not going to harm them,” Dr. Keane assured Lucas.