Blue Moon: Blood Moon Trilogy #3 (30 page)

“Run.”

B
ehind me, I heard the whimper of my mother followed by their hurried footsteps as they listened to my fear-based command. I was glad they were no longer of the mindset that their son had returned to them. They seemed to understand the gravity of the situation.

I, however, seemed rooted to the ground, unable to move. I was in shock, body rigid. How was this possible? Bobby should be burning up. The sun was out, unobstructed by clouds or trees. It was bright, the sky blue, rays beating down on us. How was he walking in it?

A strong hand wrapped itself around my bicep, and I turned, my other hand balled into a fist and ready to strike my attacker. I followed through with the punch, only to have it slam into an open palm. I lifted my gaze to find Nick there, his attention focused on Bobby only a few feet away.

“The rest of the Pack has retreated,” Nick said, pulling on my arm, trying to coax me to move. “We need to get your parents away from here. Take them back to the house.”

“The house won’t be safe,” I managed to say as we ran, my legs finally able to move. “Not anymore.”

By the time we reached the cars, the others were already there, climbing into the vehicles. Colby and Zach went with Layla, Vince, and Corbin this time so my parents could ride with us. There wasn’t much I could freely discuss with Nick about what we’d seen now that we were in their presence.

While Nick drove, I found myself constantly turning around to check on them. My mom was huddled against my dad, his arms wrapped around her. She was shaking, and he was doing his best to keep her calm. I could tell he was trying to work out everything he’d witnessed; he wouldn’t have been a very good cop if he weren’t.

Nick placed a hand on my thigh, pulling my focus. “You okay?” he asked, glancing over at me, his eyes holding a much deeper meaning to his concern. It only took a second for me to realize he was asking about the baby.

I nodded, glancing down and running a hand over my abdomen like I was smoothing my shirt. “Fine. Just a little shaken.” The image of Bobby walking out into the day, his smile wide and cocky, continued to haunt me. It used to be we were safe when the sun was out, but now? I wasn’t even sure how this was possible. Unless…

Flashes of being strapped to a metal table, vials being filled with my blood as I tried to fight my way free needled at me. Bobby explained how my blood was the key to creating a successful hybrid. I was supposed to be his test subject, but then I escaped, forcing his hand. He’d taken a risk, knowing that it might not work and he could die.

We arrived back at Vince and Layla’s house, even though I failed to see how we were safe. Our only advantage was that we were all together…or most of us. Jackson and Roxanne hadn’t returned from the city yet. Nick was remedying that as I led my parents to the living room to have a seat.

I could see the questions in their eyes as they watched me cross over to the armchair, and I knew they deserved an explanation. Unfortunately, I wasn’t at liberty to tell them everything, even if I wanted to.

“What the hell happened back there?” my dad finally asked.

I looked around the room, realizing we were alone. I could hear the Pack in various areas throughout the house. Vince and Layla were in the kitchen, talking in hushed whispers, Zach, Colby, and Corbin were outside, standing guard, and Nick was coming back downstairs after making his phone call.

“That was Bobby,” Dad continued when I failed to respond. “Wasn’t it?” He was struggling with whether or not he really saw his son. “He looked different. And the way he fought you.” A shudder wormed its way down my dad’s spine as he recalled the fight. “He’s strong. Inhuman.”

I remembered the way Bobby grabbed me around the neck and slammed me into the floor. The memory of the impact jarred me again, making the back of my head throb all over.

An awkward pause hung in the air, and I was about to tell them both that even though Bobby was strong, I was capable of keeping them safe, but the look in my dad’s eyes stopped me. “Then there’s you.”

I sucked in a deep breath, holding it as I waited for the hammer to drop.

“You held your own—even bested him. The question I have is: how was that even possible?”

It wasn’t that he doubted my ability to fight my own battles, but if I had witnessed what he had, I’d question it too. For a brief second, I thought about telling him it was my self-defense training that gave me the upper hand, but I doubted he’d buy it. My eyes met my mother’s, and the lines of worry around her eyes had deepened since I’d last seen her a few weeks ago. I couldn’t stand to keep this from them, but knew I had to as it went against Pack Law.

“You didn’t even look surprised to see him,” Mom said, her voice soft and wavering. “Why didn’t you look surprised to see him?”

My palms were sweating as I clasped my hands together, pressing them between my knees nervously as I stumbled for an explanation they could hear. I was no good at this. I had never lied to my parents before, and I hated that it was my only option now. They knew what they saw, and my father wasn’t stupid. He’d eventually make the connection to all of this if he stuck around. Even at Christmas, he was starting to ask questions based on the things he’d seen.

“She wasn’t surprised to see him,” Nick interjected, coming into the living room and standing behind me. He rested his hands on my shoulders in a show of support. “She wasn’t surprised, because up until a few days ago, he’d been holding her hostage, too.”

I glanced up to see the horror in my mom and dad’s eyes as they looked at me. Still confused about how much I could talk about, I looked up at Nick. He only nodded before saying, “Tell them everything. If we’re going to keep them safe, they deserve to know what it is we’re up against.”

“But, Nick…”

“You make the rules now,” he reminded me.

I lowered my voice, even though my parents were still in the room and would be able to hear everything I said. “I can’t put them at risk.”

“Baby,” he said, “they’re already at risk. This way, they’re not blind to it all. At least they’d stand a chance.”

He was right, so I steeled myself and prepared to tell them everything, starting with the night I was bitten and hospitalized back in Scottsdale.

“I don’t understand,” my mother said after I told them I hadn’t been the same since that night in Chaparral Park. “What does any of this have to do with the night you were attacked?”

I glanced at Nick again, and he nodded for me to continue. I was nervous, my heart hammering as anxiety filled my chest, but I decided to just come right out and say it. “It wasn’t just a wolf that bit me, and after that night, as I’m sure you’ve both noticed, I haven’t quite been the same.”

While my mother watched me nervously, my dad had a modicum of calm etched into his expression. I’d recently suspected he knew more than he was letting on—especially after the night we were attacked and fled to the city—but just how much did he know?

“Dad?”

“I need to hear you say it,” he said, voice steady and commanding. If I’d held any doubt that his rational mind could have wandered into the supernatural world all on its own, it dissipated in that one moment.

“It was Nick who attacked me,” I confessed, reaching up and clasping his hand as he gently squeezed my shoulder.

Mom’s face scrunched up, and her voice took on a level I hadn’t heard since I was a disobedient teenager. “What? Brooke, I saw the wound…that wasn’t done by a human. It was done by a rabid animal.”

Nick exhaled a dark chuckle.

“Or…a werewolf,” I concluded quietly.

Dad sat back on the couch, eyes moving between Nick and I as he processed my confession, and my mom continued to sputter and explain it away as nonsense.

“I was sick for a few days, remember? I had to be hospitalized. I’m sure you could both list off my strange behavior in the following weeks. Eating habits, how I’d been acting… I was changing. Those weeks were dark and confusing, and even I had no idea what was happening to me…”

“Until the night you disappeared in Phoenix,” my dad interjected as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place for him. “There was a full moon that night. David had said you’d been acting funny all day. His superstitious nature suspected it had something to do with the moon.”

“He wasn’t wrong,” I confirmed. “I shifted for the first time that night.”

Shaking her head, my mom stood abruptly and began pacing the room. “No. It’s just not possible. When you showed up that morning, you were wearing Nick’s things. You were with him the night before.”

“I was, but not in the way you’re thinking. He found me in the desert outside the city limits. We…we hunted together and then went back to his place and slept.” Pausing, I worried at my bottom lip with my teeth. “Think hard, Mom. Remember the condition I was in that morning.” I watched her carefully as she stopped pacing, eyes going wide as she replayed the events of that morning back. “I was covered in dirt, there were scratches all over my body, twigs in my hair.” I looked over at my dad. “You and David found my clothes shredded, large canine tracks in the dirt around them, yet no blood that would signal an attack. That’s when you started to suspect, isn’t it?”

With a sigh, Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “No, actually. It was after David’s death, once the lab released the results of the crime scene. That was what sparked my initial curiosity.”

Mom’s gaze snapped to him. “You suspected something like this and never thought to mention it? Keith, what—?”

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t sure it was true. I only suspected. I couldn’t come to you with seemingly impossible theories. Not until I knew for certain.”

There was a brief moment where Mom looked to entertain the idea before she slid right back into denial. “This is absurd!”

“I thought so at first, too, Mom…until Nick showed me the truth.”

Looking behind me, I found Nick seemingly apprehensive. With a sigh, he nodded once. “You’re sure that’s how you want them to believe?”

“It’s the only way to prove it,” I countered. “I’d do it if I could control it the way you can. I won’t risk hurting them if I can’t stop the transformation.”

“This is ridiculous,” my mom stated, sounding annoyed. It wasn’t often she didn’t believe me, and if it weren’t for the sensitive nature and the fact that I had trouble believing it initially, I might be hurt by her reaction.

Nick’s hand left my shoulder, and he rounded the chair so he could stand in the middle of the living room. “You might want to have a seat,” he gently suggested to my mom.

Even though she claimed to not believe us, she listened to him, something in her likely believing the collected tenor of his voice. My dad gathered her hand in his, and they trained their eyes on Nick. Just like the night he confirmed what he was for me—what I had become—he focused his attention on his right arm. I picked up on the shift in temperature as his fever warmed the room. Saw how the amber rings in his pupils brightened slightly. Next were the snaps and cracks of the bones in his hand and forearm. Hearing it drew my focus to my parents’ faces, and I watched as they witnessed Nick’s fingers retract into over-sized paws, claws tearing through the tips of his fingers, and hair sprouting from his golden skin.

“Dear God,” my dad muttered, his eyes wide with alarm. If he had even a sliver of doubt, it was gone.

Beside him, my mom sat, frozen in shock. The horror on her face pained me, slicing through my heart like a hot knife through butter. She may have been gazing upon Nick’s transformation, but she would have reacted the same way if it were me. It was the first time I saw anything other than pride and love. This was something akin to disgust.

The front door opened, catching us all off guard, and soon Jackson’s voice echoed through the house. Soon he was in the living room, stopping short when he caught the tail end of Nick’s performance.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Jackson demanded, his eyes darting between my parents and Nick.

Nick pulled his arm back, turning from my parents as he worked to reverse the change. “Some shit went down this afternoon, and we owed them an explanation,” he replied, his voice straining slightly as he tried to hold the partial transformation.

Jackson turned his attention back to me. “Brooke, this is so far beyond the parameters of Pack Law—”

“Pack Law?” my father questioned, and Jackson released an aggravated sigh as he thrust his fingers through his hair.