Rising Tide: Dark Innocence (The Maura DeLuca Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

“Hi Shane,” her whole being lit up
as he turned toward her.  “Maura isn’t feeling so good, so we’re going to
go scout some chow, ok?”

Ron was standing beside Shane,
plugging his guitar into his amp, but his ears pricked up at Merina’s
words.  He immediately turned and grabbed both of my hands.  “You ok,
Maura?”  His eyes grew deep with concern flooding them.

I felt all warm and melty inside
from his attentions.  “Oh yea.  I’m just kinda hungry, that’s
all.”  That was a gross understatement, I was starving, my stomach
growling in werewolf proportions.  “And it’s really hot in here.” 

“It’s definitely not an ideal Maura
environment,” he winked, in a knowing way.  “I really appreciate the
effort.” 

“It’s nothing!  I’m dying to
hear you guys play!” 

“By the way,” he added, eyeing me
up and down, so that my cheeks grew hot, “I love the new outfit.”  He
winked at me, making my blush deepen.

“It’s Merina’s,” I admitted,
looking down at the toes of my black Mary Janes.

“Well, Merina’s good taste looks
great on you.”  He grinned and squeezed my hands.

I felt Merina tug at my hand
again.  “Come on, Maura.  Let’s get some food in you so you don’t
pass out before the first set!”

“Ok,” I said, still not able to
tear my eyes away from Ron’s.  My mind flashed a brief picture of red, raw
meat at me, and my stomach growled aggressively in response.  I didn’t
know quite how to feel about that, but I turned away, somewhat reluctantly, and
let myself be dragged up the staircase, through the living room and into the
small kitchen of the frat house.  There was pizza on the table, along with
several bowls of chips and dips.  My stomach flip-flopped with joy as I
inhaled the scent of cheese and pepperoni deeply.  I’d had always been a
hearty eater, and refused to apologize for it!

I was wolfing down my fourth slice
before I even looked up at Merina again.  She was staring at me a little
wide-eyed.  “Wow….you
are
hungry.”

I looked at her sheepishly,
unfailingly tearing away at the slice.  “Sorry, when I get nervous, I get
hungry.”

She laughed it off and picked up
her second slice of vegetarian.  “I’m just envious that’s all.  If I
ate that much, I’d gain a zillion pounds!”

I took it easy after that, casually
picking at the chips, though I felt like burying my head in the bowl.  I
used the distraction of the guys coming upstairs to wolf down another two meat
laden slices.  Merina was busy lock-lipped to Shane and, as far as Ron was
concerned, this was the first pizza I may have eaten.  An image of me with
snout and curly tail flashed in my brain, making me smile up at Ron a bit more
feverishly.

“Wow, you’re really happy
tonight….and somehow different,” Ron remarked.

“Too much excitement!”  I was
going to play that one for all it was worth.

There were two others standing with
Ron now.  I’d noticed the lead singer and bass player putting all of their
equipment into place, but I’d never met either.  Ron noticed them,
following my stare.

“Maura,” he indicated the first of
the two, moving up toward the spread of food.  “This is our lead singer,
Chad.” 

Chad wasn’t as tall as Ron, but he
had a huge smile and mischievous green eyes.  His dirty-blonde hair was long,
hanging far past his shoulders.  “Hey!” was all he got out before shoving
pizza in his mouth.

“And, our bass player, Mike.” 

Mike was tall and very quiet. 
He merely nodded in response to Ron’s introduction.  He had a vicious look
about him, and his profile somehow reminded me of the velociraptors from
Jurassic
Park
.  I felt glad, while I was shaking his hand, he couldn’t read my
thoughts.  His short-cropped, black hair and small, darting blue eyes had
a somewhat dangerous feel about them.

A tall, lanky frat boy—Greek
letters displayed across his chest—approached us and tapped Ron on the
shoulder.  “Hey guys, it’s time for you to go on.”

“Showtime!” Shane declared
loudly.  Ron sighed and pressed his full lips together tightly.  I
guessed he was committing himself to the performance, ready or not.

His hand clamped over mine and
pulled me along.  The part of me that wanted to stay and wolf down more
protein covered pizza warred with the other, eager to see Ron’s band in action
for the first time.  I honestly couldn’t believe how hungry I still
was.  My stomach growled again, as if attempting to convince me to stay
put. 

It was loud enough for anyone
around to hear.  Ron laughed lightly and said, “Don’t worry Maura. 
We’ll come get some more food after the first set.  And if your stomach
roars like that again, I’ll even take us all out after the show’s over.” 
He grinned and poked at my belly through the roughed-up cotton texture of the
shirt. I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance, in response.

Once down the stairs and in the
basement, the guys took the makeshift stage.  I felt little flutterings of
butterfly excitement in my gut….or was that too much pizza?  No,
definitely the band.  In an instant the small, overcrowded space came to
life with the music.  When Ron started strumming his electric guitar, I
felt myself go weak in the knees.  He almost seemed like a different
person.  There was no self-doubt now, only unshakeable confidence and
undeniable skill.

Most of the songs were familiar. It
was clear that Death Moon, was predominantly a cover band.  They also
played three original songs, impressing me, and everyone one else in the room
it seemed, with their talent.  Their first song was a Muse cover—one of my
favorites, in fact.  I felt lost in the music, noticing that Ron really
opened up when he played. 

They all put on a good show. 
Chad’s voice was perfectly suited for the music they chose.  He sang high
and strong, pushing the crowd into a near frenzy.  Shane kept perfect
time, and Ron played up his role to epic proportions, causing the girls in the
crowd eye him in a way I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about.  But who
could blame them?  So, I focused on being the lucky one he would walk over
to, after all the rock star stuff had come to an end.

Merina was squealing excitedly,
beside me, throughout the set.  She was obviously enjoying watching Shane
play as much as I was Ron.  I couldn’t fathom what he’d been worried
about.  They were truly amazing.  And the crowd at the frat house party
thought so, too.  After every song raucous applause and shouting filled
the room.  After a couple of songs, I happily noticed Ron really start to
relax and become completely overtaken by his role as lead guitar. 

I felt someone bump me from
behind.  I half turned and did a face plant into the chest of a boy I
didn’t know. 

I looked up, way up…he must have
been at least six foot seven.  His lips parted in a drunken, silly sort of
way and his words slurred out, “Hey, want a beer?”  His arm extended too
far to offer the beverage and it sloshed over the lip of the clear, plastic cup
making a large, soaked spot on Merina’s borrowed shirt.  I was
horrified.  I hoped she wouldn’t get in trouble because of me.

“You’re soooo pretty.  Wanna
beer?” he slurred again.

I had no intention of adding
underage drinking to my list of crimes tonight.  “No thanks,” I took a
step back from him.

“Awww, come’on,” he slung a big,
heavy arm across my shoulders and pulled me to him.  I could see Ron
stiffen on stage, as my eyes darted to his position instinctively.

“No!”  I pushed with all my
might, but he was bigger and much stronger.  He dragged me along with him
as he shuffled toward the stairs. Merina seemed to be frozen in place, her face
a mask of panic. 

“Stop it!”  He’d moved his arm
down around my waist so that he could haul me up the stairs.  My brain
started to become as panicked as the expression I’d seen on my new friend’s
face. 

“Let’s get some air.”

That’s what I thought he said as he
dragged me across the kitchen.  Even in my state of fright, I could smell
the pizza, distinctly picking out fragrances of bacon, ham, pepperoni and beef,
as we moved past.  *How can you possibly be concerned with food right
now??* I thought to myself, incredulously. 

Once out the back door, I began to
be genuinely afraid.  We were out of sight of all my friends and even if
we weren’t, Ron was trapped playing a set.  Not that I would want to wreck
that for him.  His first gig….I gathered my resolve to handle the
situation as efficiently as possible, by myself, so I could get back inside and
save the moment.  *He’s obviously drunk, how hard can this be?* a voice
inside my head asked.

That was about the time I
comprehended this guy was completely harmless.  Other than practically kidnapping
me from the party, he really didn’t mean any harm.  His blue eyes widened
innocently as he released me, offering his beer again.  “Wan some?” he
smiled in a hopeful manner.

“Ummm, no thanks.  I’m really
not old enough to drink.”

“You sure?”

“Quite.”  I watched him shrug
his shoulders and chug half the beer.  I took a couple of steps back, and
he didn’t try to stop me.  I was pretty certain he’d  gotten caught
up in the moment, wishing for someone of the female persuasion to drink with.

“Hey, my boyfriend’s playing in the
band.  And…he looked pretty worried when you hauled me up the stairs just
now,” I explained.

“Oh, wow…sorry.”  He lifted
the cup to his lips again, but lowered his eyes repentantly.  

“Sooooo, I’m just going to go back
downstairs again, ok?”

“Sure,” he kept drinking, and I
turned to go.

“Wait!”  He reached out to
grab my wrist as I walked away.  He probably just wanted to put in a last
ditch effort to keep me there, but after being forcibly taken up the stairs,
some instinct in my body took over.

“Let me go!!” I didn’t speak, but
roared at him.  I slid my arm forward through his grasp to push his chest
and throw him backward.  In that moment I was infuriated.  Angry
beyond reason.  Even though I knew down deep he hadn’t meant any harm, I
was incensed that he had brought me outside against my will, worrying Ron and
Merina.  Some part of me, as if looking at the moment from outside my
body, was horrified that I wanted to actually hurt him.  But that part of
me was small and powerless to stop what happened next.

I gnashed my teeth together, so
hard it hurt, with the force of my rage.  I realized a second later the
pain stemmed from my lower lip, into which I’d sunk my left canine.  The
rich taste of blood flowed over my tongue, doubling the anger exploding through
my head and branching down into my chest. 

The coppery scent of blood hung
thick in the air, as well.  I realized I’d shoved the boy so hard, he’d
cracked his head against the stone walkway at the back of the house.  The
right side of his head bore an ugly gash, at least three inches long. 
Typical of most head wounds, it was bleeding profusely, the boy left
unconscious.  Instead of reacting with horror, as I should have, my
stomach cramped sharply with insatiable hunger, once again.

I felt horrified then, but only
with myself.  I wanted to consume…to consume
him
!  I’d never
wanted to eat so badly before….ever.  My thoughts, not borne of my own
will, turned from the food in the kitchen.  My mind rejected it, like some
auto-pilot impulse.  I found my eyes pulled, by animal instinct, to the
boy lying on the ground.  My stomach flip-flopped with desire when I
watched the blood slide onto the ground beneath his head. 

If anyone had asked me to explain
what I felt I’d ask them to imagine being hungry.  As hungry as they’ve
ever been in their life.  As if they hadn’t eaten for days.  As if
their favorite dish was laid out before their starving body, tempting every
sense in their body, uncontrollably.

This was how I felt as my eyes fixated
on his seeping wound.  My brain pulsed, flexing like a muscle and sending
a memory burning through my head.  It was a picture of that night in the
shower, when my own blood had flowed into my mouth from an injury hauntingly
similar to his.  I recalled the perfectly satisfying flavor, the ravenous
way it had twisted my stomach, before the shock of what I’d been doing had
taken over. 

There was no shock strong enough to
stop me now.  Just a greedy, driving impulse, pounding through every
cell.  I was hungry and I wanted beyond all wants, to eat.  A red
film pervaded my eyes, turning the world crimson.  My pulse screamed
inside my head, exiling all other sound.  And the boy’s blood called to
me, drawing me down to my knees on the ground beside him.

“Maura!”  From somewhere very
far away, part of me acknowledged Ron’s voice.  It was enough to draw me
up, up, up from where I was now, drowning in gluttony at the taste of
blood.  Not quite enough though; I continued to lap at the side of the nameless
boy’s head. 

“MAURA!!”  Ron’s voice was
much more forceful now—a force to be reckoned with—and rife with shock. 
But he didn’t settle for shouting at me.  I felt him behind me, hooking
his hands under my shoulders and jerking me to my feet in an instant.

He whirled me around, roughly, and
I found myself staring blankly into his face, trying to focus.  “My
god!  What are you doing?!!”  He was shouting at me, his face not an
inch from mine, but I still couldn’t come around from my bloodhaze completely. 
I wanted to shove him away….violently…and reattach my mouth to the bloody wound
at my feet.

“Stop!  Leave me alone!” 
I fought against him, until I saw Shane coming through the door after us. 
He stopped short and looked at me, his mouth gaping open with shock, fear in
his eyes.  Ron pushed him back inside, slamming the door in his face.

He turned his attention back to me
and shook me forcefully.  “Maura,” my name came out a rough whisper,
“what’s wrong with you?!!”