Bright Moon (22 page)

“Sis, you shouldn’t go through his
phone!”

“I’m not, I’m just looking.”

She flipped it open with her thumb and
scrolled through the menu until she found the contacts.

“Sis,” Callan hissed from the backseat. “Put
it back! How do you know
Jothram
even has a phone?”

“How do you know he doesn’t? It’s worth a
look, isn’t it?”

“No,” he disagreed with a shake of his head.
“Put it back.”

She shook her head and scrolled through the
contact list, stopping when she came to the names beginning with J.
There were a few, Jack, Jaime, Jaliyah, Jeremy, John, Josh and
Justin, but no Jothram. Her heart sank in disappointment, but it
was soon forgotten when the car door popped open. Tyson’s eye fell
on her, more specifically, his phone in her hand. Immediately his
eyes darkened and he leaned forward to snatch it from her
fingers.

“You didn’t find what you were looking for,
did you?” he asked and snapped it shut.

“Ty, she—”

“I know what she was doing, Cal,” Tyson
grumbled without taking his accusing stare from her. Flames lit in
her face and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Rodger says we
can wait here until the rest catch up. He isn’t thrilled about a
mortal coming on his lands, so try to behave yourself and don’t go
searching through his phone, alright?”

Still red with embarrassment, she could only
nod as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
The gentle rise and fall of the path soon revealed a house ahead.
The surrounding yard was covered in lawn and bordered with a white
picket fence. Tyson parked in a sheltered garage, next to a few
large and dusty vehicles. Callan popped his door open almost before
the SUV came to a complete stop. He paced around the car.

“Remember,” Tyson whispered to her when she
reached for the handle. “Behave.”

She turned to scowl, but he’d already left
the car and opened her door for her. Mumbling her thanks, she slid
from her seat, glad to have her feet on solid earth for a time. She
took a deep breath of the crisp air in effort to regain some
composure. She nearly screamed when an unfamiliar voice spoke from
directly behind.

“Do you think it wise to keep the pup with
the mortal?”

She turned to face the man behind the voice.
Tyson went to her side. “Rodger, this is Clara.”

The man was a lot older than she first
anticipated, looking to be well over eighty. His skin was wrinkled
and stretched. He carried his body on thin, knobby legs. His arms
were even thinner and he held a cane to help support himself. His
eyes were hidden under the baseball cap he wore. “Well, at least
she isn’t sore on the eyes,” his aged voice cracked when he spoke.
Clara felt her face fanning alive with embarrassment once again.
Tyson chuckled.

“The pup you spoke of is Callan,” he said,
drawing Callan’s attention from his uneasy pacing.

“It’s plain as day they’re siblings,” Rodger
said then turned his head to address Callan. “Don’t you know to
leave everyone behind?”

“They are siblings,” Tyson said agreeably.
“But I’m afraid my brother has complicated things when it comes to
Clara.”

“He’s threatened her?” Rodger asked.

“He’s done more than threaten.”

Rodger sighed and shook his head. “You’re
welcome to wander as much as you need, young Callan. I own over a
hundred acres, so if you stay within the fence you should be
alright. Even so, there isn’t another ranch or dwelling for miles
and miles beyond the fence.”

“Thank you, sir,” Callan said and looked to
Tyson who nodded once. Callan took off running, leaving them in a
blur of motion.

“My boys are out there,” Rodger said, “but
they won’t hurt him.”

“We appreciate your hospitality,” Tyson
said.

“Well…I suppose we’d better get your girl to
the house. Forgive me if I don’t wait, I’ll see you inside.”

Clara knew Rodger was a werewolf, but it
shocked her to see such an old looking man move as if the very wind
gave him speed. When their host was gone, Tyson went to the rear of
the car and reached for the hatch door. His phone rang before he
could open it.

“It’s them,” he said to Clara before
flipping it open. “Where are you?” He waited before speaking again.
“That’s right…if Felina needs the help, then I suppose we can wait
one more day, as long as Rodger doesn’t mind. He’s nervous having
an innocent around, so be sure to come as fast as you can. Don’t
take more than two days.” The phone snapped shut and was hidden in
his pocket again.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He says Mesha’s going crazy being away from
you so long. Aside from that, Felina’s lost two of her pups. They
went wild and ran off in the mountains.”

“They’re going to help find them?”

“As long as it doesn’t take long.” He jerked
the hatch open and pulled the luggage from within. “Come on, we’d
better not keep Rodger waiting.”

Rodger’s house was a rather big one, with
three stories and plenty of square footage. The face of the house
was made of logs and large stones. They came to the front door,
painted a forest green, and found it propped open. Tyson moved
inside without a second thought, shutting the door behind them.
Rodger sat on a large leather sofa that faced the front window. He
leaned forward while resting his weight on his cane. Even in the
well lit room, his face was obscured by his red hat.

“It’s been awhile since a…
lady
paid
us a visit. I’m afraid our rooms were designed more for the
masculine taste.”

She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or
not and was about to respond when she felt a gentle pressure on her
elbow. “Whatever you have will be fine, thank you,” Tyson said.

Rodger stood slowly, giving the impression
his joints hurt. “Well, I suppose we’d best get to it then. Follow
me.” His aged legs bent as he hobbled to a staircase, leaning on
his cane all the while. Every other stair creaked as they climbed
and he led them down a hall then up another set of stairs. “I
thought it would be best to keep you on the third floor away from
the others. The recreation room is up there, but the boys don’t go
there much in the evenings.” He stopped in front of a door and
pushed it open to reveal a plain room. The walls were painted white
and a bed had been shoved against the furthest wall. Brown curtains
draped the small window and matched the dull tone of the carpet.
“This is where you’ll stay. I hope it’ll do.”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” Tyson said and
placed the suitcase against the wall inside the door. She wanted to
express her thanks as well, but another gentle pressure on her arm
told her to keep still.

“Dinner is in a half hour, at five-thirty,”
Rodger said and began hobbling up the hall. Tyson grabbed Clara’s
arm and pulled her in the room. The latch clicked shut behind them.
He stayed perfectly still and she held her breath, knowing he was
listening.

“It’s fine,” he said when he realized what
she was doing.

“Is it? How can things be fine if I can’t
even speak?”

“Rodger is old and set in his ways.”

“Older than you?”

“His mind is old, Clara. He has certain
views on things and this situation is odd to him. We would do well
to just stay out of the way until we can leave. Try to avoid
talking to him, or any of his pack.”

“Where are the other members of his
pack?”

“Working. Rodger’s ranch is a fully
operating one.”

“You mean they breed cows to sell for
meat?”

“Yes,” Tyson said with a nod. She made a
face. “It is only until tomorrow night. We are as safe here as
anywhere, so try to enjoy what time you have to rest.”

“That’s all I ever do,” she said.

“I know it’s not what you want,” Tyson
replied, going to the window and drawing the curtain. “Do you
remember my saying we should leave the country?”

She nodded, pulling a bit of her hair over
shoulder to twist in her fingers.

“I know you want to find Jothram and,” he
said, holding up a finger when her eyes brightened, “you were right
when you said I probably had an idea of where he would go.”

“You know where he is?” she asked
excitedly.

“I don’t
know
, but I can guess. I
think my guess is a pretty good one too.”

“Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”
She held her breath waiting for the answer. He blew a sigh,
fighting to remain calm, and leaned against the wall with his arms
crossed over his chest.

“Just do something for me, alright?”

“Sure,” she agreed.

“Tell me what you’ll do when you meet
him,”

Her brow furrowed and she wrapped her hair
between her fingers again. “I don’t know…I couldn’t until I meet
him.”

“Just imagine you have,” he said and bit his
cheek.

“I-I would see if there is any truth to the
legend…to this belief that I am…”

“The cure. Yes, but
how
would
you?”

“I don’t really know, Tyson. That’s why I
have to see him first.”

He paused and seemed to be chewing straight
through the flesh of his cheek. “Would you ask him if he loves
you?”

She nodded.

“What if he says yes?”

“I would tell him he’s wrong,” she whispered
and looked away.

“You seem so sure,” he said quietly. “How
are you so confident that you are
not
the one?”

She studied the boring carpet, although
there was nothing to study, doing anything to keep her attention
from his entrapping eyes. “I…just am.”

“Please, Clara, let’s assume for one minute
that Jothram has professed his love for you, what then?”

“It isn’t possible,” she could barely force
the words out. Unable to sit any longer, she used her suitcase as
an excuse to stand and went to unzip it. She made a show of
pretending to look for something, but scarcely saw what was right
before her eyes.

“Why not?” he asked, coming to stand behind
her. She zipped the compartment back up and started to unzip the
second. Tyson’s warm hand came over hers and he sat on his haunches
next to her, keeping a hold of her hands. “Clara, just tell me
why.”

“I can’t love him,” she whispered, keeping
her eyes on the carpet. “How can someone love me if I can’t love
them?”

He laughed, but his eyes seemed sad. The
floor creaked when he stood and released her. “I think that’s the
smartest thing I’ve heard you say since we met.”

“Why?” she asked sharply, her attention
fully on him.

“You can’t love Jothram because he’s a
werewolf.”

She shook her head, wanting to scream at the
irony. “That’s not what I said, nor what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”
“Tyson, please…” she got to her feet once more. “Allow me a few
secrets and believe me when I say I cannot love him.”

“Love him or not, I promised I would take
you to him and I am one who keeps my promises.”

“Really?” Clara asked hopefully.
“I will certainly try. I can’t promise he’ll be where I think he
is, but he can’t hide from us forever.”

She let her fingers slide through her hair
as the cruel reality of it all hit her. The truth was Jothram
could
hide forever and forever was too long.

Tyson thought it best they skip the formal
dinner that night. Even so, a tray of food was sent to them. Clara
picked at her salad while Tyson ate the rare piece of meat sent for
him. Callan didn’t return that night, but she woke to her pink rose
standing straight in its vase. Callan lay spread out on the floor
with nothing more than a thin blanket between him and carpet.
Experience told her he would not wake for some time. He had never
been a light sleeper, but since she’d come into the pack, she
noticed he was extremely difficult to wake. Tyson was nowhere to be
seen, but that didn’t surprise her. Nor was she surprised when he
appeared in the door after she began rustling around to change.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” she said and combed her
messy hair back with her fingers.

“I thought you might want to go for a walk
after breakfast.”

“And…what’s for breakfast?”

“Cold cereal is all they have, aside from
animal proteins.”

“I appreciate your looking. Cold cereal is
perfect.”

He nodded once. “When you’re ready, I’ll be
downstairs.”

She dressed and readied for the day,
prepared to face the unknown of Rodger’s ranch. The kitchen was
large, but otherwise nothing special. It reeked of bacon grease and
sausage. Tyson sat with her as she ate, but was his normal,
taciturn self. Callan had not come downstairs when they left the
house via the backdoor. There was a vegetable garden just beyond
the stretch of lawn that surrounded the back wall. Rodger was
there, leaning against a shovel and talking with a young looking
man.

“Hello there, Tyson!” Rodger called and
waved a hand to them, inviting them to come over. “Did you sleep
well?” He raised his face toward them and Clara was able to discern
his features for the first time, thanks to the light of day. His
brown-green eyes were lifeless and his expression sad, even when he
smiled. He had a wide forehead and high cheekbones from which his
loose skin hung.

“As well as could be expected, I reckon,”
Tyson said.

“I was very surprised that you stayed
indoors until the light touched the horizon. The moon is getting
brighter. I hope you don’t strain yourself too much, I wasn’t
planning on remodeling that room.”

“I am under control,” Tyson answered
smoothly.

“Have you met Dingo?” Rodger asked and
lowered his head until his hat hid his eyes again. He gestured
toward the young looking man. He was as well muscled and large as
most other werewolves she’d seen. His dark hair was long, falling
to his shoulders. He wore a red kerchief tied around his neck that
was half hidden under a red checkered shirt and blue denim
pants.