Bright Moon (9 page)

“You should try to get more sleep,” Tyson
said. She jumped and practically flailed. He sat on the table with
his back to her, staring out the window, searching the darkness.
They were alone in the room.

“What did you say?” she breathed and
stood.

“You should try to rest more, it’s hard to
say when we’ll stop again once we get going.”
“I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?” He slid to face her. She
wanted to deny it, but couldn’t with his penetrating gaze demanding
truth. She looked down and nodded. “It’s to be expected, you’ll get
used to the idea with time.”

She felt childish waking from a nightmare
and expecting comfort. Tyson studied her and squinted.

“Mark called you
baby
, were you
romantically involved with him?”

“No!” she gasped, shaken at the sudden
change of topic. “Our relationship wasn’t anything like that.”

“What sort of relationship did you
have?”

“He’s…he
was
my boss.”

Tyson’s jaw clenched and he leaned forward.
“You said
relationship,
which implies something more. Were
you in love with him?”

“Of course not! He was…”

“Yes?”

She sighed. “I don’t know if I can explain
this correctly.”

“I’m not as dense as you think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she waved his
temper off. “It’s hard to explain unless you know a little of my
history, even then it’s hard to define.”

“Callan told me about your mom, I’m sorry.”
He sounded sincere.

“Thank you.” She pushed her hair back with
her fingers and hoped she didn’t look a mess. She also hoped Tyson
would forget his original question and let her hide away in the
bathroom.

“You haven’t explained about Mark, I need to
know.”

“I don’t want to admit it, but if it’s that
important I will. Mark was the only person who went out of his way
to be nice to me. It’s cruelly ironic now, but his kindness is what
kept me sane everyday.”

Tyson’s lips parted and his face drew in a
slight scowl. A thick silence blanketed the hotel room. Presently
he broke it after a brief struggle of emotion. “You weren’t in love
with him?”

“No, I was under the assumption he was my
friend.”

“I wonder how he got so close to you without
my noticing. He must have chosen the dog shelter to throw off his
scent.”

“What do you mean?” She gave up the hope of
temporarily escaping and plopped onto the bed. “How would you
notice when we’d never met?”

“I knew who you were before I met you.
Parker has been known to threaten families of werewolves and I
wanted to be sure he didn’t involve you or your father.”

“You watched us?”

“A little, yes.”

The thought was disturbing, especially when
she wasn’t sure what exactly he knew. She lowered her eyes.
“Oh.”

“I know it’s creepy,” he said
apologetically.

“How long were you watching?” she asked
without looking up.

“Long enough to know Mesha told the truth
when she said you carry pain,” he murmured.

Clara’s emerald eyes flashed to him, but she
shifted her attention quickly and picked at the hem of her pant
leg. Another awkward silence engulfed them until she found her
voice. “You never saw me go to work? Mark has been my boss for a
year.”

“He must have had this planned even before
Callan was infected. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he knew
where I was and knew how to avoid me.”

“You were ill the night our lives crashed
together. Mesha told me how hard it is to stay in your human form
while the moon is full.”

He nodded and shifted his weight. “I
couldn’t let myself lose control, I was afraid you would die of
shock.”

“I probably would have.” She tried,
unsuccessfully, to imagine what it would be like to see a person
change to a monstrously huge wolf. Tyson laughed shortly. “What?”
she asked when she noted his disbelieving expression.

“Mortals have been thrown into our world
before, but I’ve never seen someone stare a werewolf down for the
first time without at least trying to run. When you saw Mark and me
fighting, you
came
to us. When you saw I was the wolf you
didn’t try to run.”

“I wasn’t well, I fainted. Remember?”

“I know why you fainted and it wasn’t
because of what you saw, it was because of the physical trauma
you’d endured. I saw your face, you weren’t scared.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of
individual I should be afraid of,” Clara mumbled.

Tyson’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

She shrugged.

“I think that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever
heard!”

“Why wasn’t Mark so ill?” she asked
quickly.

“He wore silver,” Tyson answered simply.

Clara wanted to laugh. “Of course. If it’s
that simple, why weren’t you wearing silver?”

“Silver weakens us to a mortal’s strength
and leaves us vulnerable. The effects are even worse when we are in
our wolf forms, but if worn on our human bodies, it keeps us from
transforming. Mark can wear it because Parker protects him. If I
wore it, I would be left with no strength to defend myself and
Parker could easily have me killed.”

“He kills werewolves?” Clara asked,
mortified.

“His family has passed traditions down for
generations. They killed us for religious reasons at first, but
they found out too much and became greedy. Now he hunts werewolves
because he’s searching for the cure.”

“The cure?” Clara asked. “There’s a cure for
werewolves?”

“There isn’t one now, but there’s supposed
to be…eventually.”

He was uncommonly nervous as Clara waited
for him to explain. When he didn’t offer the information freely she
pushed for the answer. “What is it?”

“I’m getting ahead of myself. I need to tell
you about the first werewolf before I can explain further. There
weren’t always people like me around, at least not in this form.
Many, many years ago, a man named Jothram was the first. He was a
member of an elite group of men and women who were entrusted with
the safekeeping of a dwindling race. He did not fully belong to the
race, but their spirits were gentle and they accepted him as they
would their own. His strength made him an opportune candidate for
knighthood, so to speak—”

“Knighthood?” she repeated the word in
shocked inquisitiveness. “You mean to say this happened in medieval
times?”

He squinted thoughtfully and shook his head.
“Jothram comes from a land unaffected by time. The people he became
a part of were…special…different. They were not fond of violence,
but violence was thrust upon them as it often is in such cases.
Monsters sought treasures they were willing to sacrifice their
lives for.”

“
Monsters
?” she gasped. “You mean
like dragons?”

“No,” Tyson shook his head. “Just
foul
folk. This was in a time when power was not completely
lost to the lives of men, when things were a bit…well, unusual. To
keep their treasure safe, the gentle spirited people used their
rare magic to anoint the strongest of their knights. The magic
allowed them to take on the shapes of creatures of the woods and
mountains. Not all were wolves, some were mighty eagles and others
bears, some even took the shape of stags or owls. They did such to
better protect their people and their lands.”

“And their treasure,” Clara added.

“Of course,” Tyson agreed with a nod and
small smile. “This must sound fanciful to you.”

“It sounds…magical,” she admitted.

“Magic is what doomed Jothram. He did
everything required of him to become a knight of the gentle
spirited people and was given the blessing of their beautiful queen
who had a silver brow. He was anointed with four others for a
special mission, but he received the curse.”

“They cursed him?”

“Certainly not! It wasn’t their magic, and
he wasn’t aware of what happened until later. The dark forces that
sought the hidden treasure plotted a way to gain entry. They knew
the fair people were also a strong people. For years they tried,
time and again, to breech the mighty fortress. Time and again they
failed until they realized they would never gain access unless it
was from inside. Unfortunately for them, the gentle race was one
that could not be bribed, or corrupted. Their queen was wise and
powerful and her warriors loyal. The monsters that bred darkness in
the land decided to create a weakness conjured by their own hand.
They knew of the anointing of the knights for the special mission
and spied out the time of the ceremony. Every ounce of their
darkest magic was used to thwart one single sanction and Jothram’s
blessing was tainted.”

“Didn’t the gentle people know their magic
was tainted?” she asked with a furrowed brow.

“If only they had! Jothram became a monster
and the spell was irreversible. The good queen used her powers to
appease the beast within and promised redemption would come, but at
a great price. The promise only added to his curse, because it was
said that the woman he would one day love would be the cure.” Tyson
paused and leapt off the table in a liquid motion.

“How can a woman be a cure?” she asked,
watching as he went to the window. She could see his reflection in
the glass as he studied the goings on below.

“Not the woman, her blood.”

“How horrid! She would be killed!”

“Not necessarily,” he said without turning
around. “It’s a gruesome idea nonetheless, especially when you
consider she would have to be infected before the cure could take
effect.”

“If she is the cure then who would cure
her?”

He faced her again, going to sit on the end
of the bed. “She wouldn’t need anyone to heal her. She doesn’t have
a wolf form after becoming infected.”

“This man, Parker, wants the cure to stop
the spread of werewolves? I thought you said he became greedy?”

“He doesn’t want the blood to cure anything.
When a mortal drinks her blood on the night of a new moon, they
become immortal without the curse of the monster.”

Her fingers went numb. “Immortality?”

“You can imagine how such a priceless
promise would entice someone.”

“Obviously, but what does that have to do
with me? You said Parker sent to those dogs to infect me.” She
pointed a finger to her chest.

“He did.”

“Why?”

“He thinks you are the cure.”

Words failed as her mind went blank. She
stared at Tyson in wide eyed shock. “He can’t believe that!” she
finally exclaimed. “I’ve never met a man named Jothram.”

“Parker is delusional and I don’t know how
he found out about you, but I fear he’s right. You are correct,
you’ve never met Jothram, although he doesn’t go by that name any
longer. He hasn’t been seen since he went into hiding, but the way
you’ve bonded with Mesha has made me wonder if there isn’t a grain
of truth to what Parker believes. Either way it doesn’t matter. If
he believes you are then you’re in danger. He’ll stop at nothing to
have you.”

Already drained because of information
overload, she couldn’t respond. She drew her knees to her chest and
let her head fall to them as her mind worked to retain the shocking
new information. She felt him move off the bed to stand.

“I’m sorry about everything, I wouldn’t
choose this for any person.”

“It’s shocking,” she mumbled from her knees.
“I am sorry about your house, but I am glad to have found
Callan.”

“Don’t worry about my house. As for Callan,
he missed you,” he said.

Not enough
, she thought.

He returned to scanning the surrounding
streets in effort to give her some space. Everything jumbled in her
mind until she came from the shock long enough to finally lock
herself in the bathroom, afraid she’d be ill. She took another
long, steaming shower. When she emerged, Mesha sat at the table
once more. She almost didn’t recognize her because her dark brown
hair had been cut short.

“Mesha!” she said in surprise. “Your
hair!”

“I know,” Mesha hung her head. “It’s
horrible.”

“I don’t think so, you look cute!”

“My appearance resembles that of a boy,”
Mesha muttered.

“Not at all,” Clara assured her. “A lot of
girls wear their hair that length.”

Mesha’s mouth twitched irritably. The beauty
of her features was not lost, even when she grimaced and her oval
face turned downward. Her power was even more apparent under the
new clothing she wore. She carried her strength well and was ever
graceful and attractive. “Tyson asked that I tell you the others
will arrive soon.” Clara took a quick survey of the room. She
hadn’t noticed he was gone. A clock on the nightstand said it was
getting on toward noon.

“How long did I sleep?” she asked.

“Awhile.”

“Where is Tyson?”

“I don’t know, he doesn’t tell me where he’s
going, or what he’s doing.”

“He does keep to himself, doesn’t he?”

Mesha looked amused. “I wouldn’t say that,
no.”

The doorknob rattled and Clara looked up,
fully expecting Tyson. To her surprise, Callan pushed the door
carefully open. His body relaxed when his eye rested on her and he
sighed with relief. She wanted to move like they could and reach
him in lightning speed. Before she’d completed the thought, Mesha
leapt up, knocking over the table and chair. She flew across the
room at the unsuspecting Callan and pinned him to the wall with a
gut wrenching snarl.

“
YOU!
” Her voice was no
less than rolling thunder and her eyes glowed vibrant gold. Tyson
appeared in a flash of movement and yanked her off with a warning
growl that distorted his face.

“You are not to behave like a wild animal!”
His voice boomed through his teeth and the room shook.

“He’s one of them!” Mesha’s voice was deep
and her limbs shook with anger. “He’s responsible for her pain!”
She pointed to Clara. “How
dare
he come to her? How dare he
show his face?”