01 Six Moon Summer - Seasons of the Moon Page 7

  Stubbornly selecting the tofu Louise had ordered and a bag of potato chips, Rylie took her lonely position at the end of a table. Nobody joined her, like usual. She didn’t mind anymore. She was too preoccupied to talk.

  A hulking man strode into the mess hall. His eyes scanned the room and briefly fell on Rylie.

  Jericho.

  She sank lower on her bench and tried not to look guilty, stuffing her food into her mouth faster than before. But Jericho didn’t approach her table. Instead, he went to sit with Louise. If he told her that Rylie had been on the boy’s side of the lake, then no amount of hiding would save her. She would be sent home.

  Rylie tried to ignore the counselors as she finished her meal. As soon as she was done, she dumped her tray on the line and hurried outside.

  “Rylie!” Cassidy ran to meet her. She was wearing a torn pair of jeans and a black shirt again, defying the summer heat. “Are you done with lunch already?

  “Yeah,” she said, glancing over her shoulder into the mess hall. Jericho and Louise were gone.

  “You want to hang out? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “Uh, no. Not right now, Cassidy,” Rylie said. “Sorry, I have to get going.”

  “Why?” She stepped in front of Rylie’s path to keep her from leaving. “I have some wicked new drawings to show you.”

  Jericho and Louise emerged from the back side of the building, strolling toward the offices. Ignoring her better instincts, which told her to go back to her cabin and avoid Jericho, she edged around Cassidy.

  “Sorry. Maybe later.”

  The counselors paused to talk on the trail, and Rylie ducked behind a nearby tree to listen.

  “Trouble on the other side, huh?” Louise asked cheerfully. “I always thought the boys were better behaved than any of the girls.”

  Jericho folded his arms and glowered. He was a shadow in the sunshine. “Maybe there was a girl being a bad influence on one of the boys.”

  “Did you see a girl over there?”

  “I saw two kids out together, but it was dark. I couldn’t identify them. Even so, I have reason to suspect one of them was a camper from your side of the lake.”

  “That’s a problem,” Louise said.

  “Yes. Why would a girl cross over?”

  She laughed. “Oh, probably the usual reasons. It seems like we catch a few couples in the act every year. Remember those two last year? Every single Tuesday night! It never amounted to any real trouble. They’re just doing what teenagers do.”

  “It could become more trouble than we suspect,” Jericho said. His voice was a low, dangerous purr. “Someone also broke into the counselor’s cabin.”

  “Who do you think it was?” Louise asked. Rylie held her breath, peeking around the tree again. Jericho’s back was to her. She couldn’t make out his expression.

  “I don’t have enough evidence to make accusations. But if you find one of your girls has been getting out, I want to know about it.”

  Rylie grimaced. That sounded ominous.

  “There’s a couple problem campers this year, but I can’t imagine them stealing anything,” Louise said. “Are you sure it’s that serious?”

  “Oh yes.”

  She sighed. “All right. I’ll let you know if I discover anything.”

  “Thank you, Louise,” Jericho said.

  They walked away. Rylie didn’t follow—she had heard enough. Jericho knew she had been on the boy’s side; he just didn’t have enough “evidence.” She didn’t like to think how he was going to prove it, but she knew it was more important than ever to be on her best behavior.

  At the beginning of the summer, Rylie would have chopped off her foot to be sent home. Now, over a month later, it was the last thing she wanted. The thought of changing into a werewolf at her dad’s house made her sick. Going home wasn’t an option. Not anymore.

  There was a big campfire after dinner that weekend at the amphitheater. The fire pit in the middle of Silver Brook was filled with burning logs, and enough extra fuel was added to make the flames leap higher than the tallest benches. It was too hot to sit in the bottom row. Rylie took her seat in the shadows at the back to wait for announcements.

  Cassidy sat beside her.

  “How are you doing?” she asked, offering Rylie a chocolate bar from the s’mores ingredients stash by the fire.

  Rylie reached out to take it, but her fingers were trembling violently. Instead, she sat on her hands. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You’ve been acting weird,” Cassidy said. “That’s my job.” She laughed, and Rylie figured she was supposed to laugh too. She mimicked the sound. It came out sounding forced and awkward.

  “I guess I’m homesick,” she lied.

  “Getting any mail from your folks?”

  “Sometimes.” Rylie hadn’t gotten anything since her mom sent her new clothing, but that was probably because they were too busy with divorce proceedings to write.

  “I’m not.” Cassidy unwrapped the chocolate bar and snapped a piece off in her mouth, chewing it on one side so her cheek bulged. “They hate me.”

  Rylie finally took a square of chocolate and let it dissolve on her tongue, watching the campfire. She couldn’t think of anything nice to say to Cassidy about her family, so instead, she asked, “What about those drawings you wanted to show me before?”

  Cassidy pushed up her sleeve to bare her wrist. The old ink was fading, but fresh line art ran from the inside of her elbow to the palm of her hand. A shaggy wolf bared his teeth as though chewing on the veins beneath the skin.

  Rylie stared at it for too long. It almost looked alive. “That’s a really good illustration,” she said. Her voice was dead.

  The director finally stepped in front of the fire to speak. Grateful for the distraction, Rylie pretended to be absorbed in the speech and ignored Cassidy. She didn’t hear a single word.

  Instead, she stared up at the sky.

  The moon was almost full.

  Nine

  Teeth and Claws

  Rylie woke up on the morning of the full moon with a note stuck to her loft window. Seth’s sharp handwriting was on the outside: Rylie. Her heart sped a little. Seth had been there last night while she slept. The thought made her blush.

  She pulled it from the window pane and unfolded it.

  Meet me on the trail at the big pile of rocks after curfew. Eat a lot of protein at dinner tonight. You’ll need your strength.

  Rylie chewed her bottom lip as she considered his instructions. After curfew. It wouldn’t be a problem, as far as the transformation went—The Legends of Gray Mountain indicated that the changes usually began around midnight in the early moons. But sneaking out of the cabin was getting riskier and riskier.

  Of course, she couldn’t change within the cabin, either. Rylie read the note one more time, then tucked it in the back of her journal.

  On impulse, she tore a blank page out of the back and scribbled her own note. I’ll be there by ten. She stuck it in the window. The note was missing by the time she returned from lunch.

  She felt normal during the day. Normal enough that she almost doubted any of it was real. It would be easier to think it was all fantasy—werewolves weren’t real, she couldn’t become an animal, and there was no reason to fear the changing moods of the moon. But Rylie could deny her gold-flecked eyes or the near invisible scar on her chest no more than she could deny her suddenly overpowering sense of smell.

  Rylie sleep-walked through her day in a haze, desperately wishing the sun wouldn’t go down and the moon wouldn’t rise. But they did. It grew darker and darker, and she grew more anxious.

  At dinner that evening, Rylie recalled Seth’s order to eat protein. Her stomach growled. She had a feeling she could eat pounds of tofu and it wouldn’t be good enough. Not tonight.

  The meatloaf smelled appealing, but her disgust overrode her cravings. Rylie had seen how cows were slaughtered
, and the idea of eating them was sickening. She couldn’t eat meatloaf. She just couldn’t. Rylie scarfed down as much vegetarian food as she could and tried to ignore her hunger.

  Louise visited her loft at bedtime.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Rylie forced a smile. “I’m great. I’m having fun. I love camp.”

  The counselor gave her a knowing look. “If you’re having a problem, I want to help you with it. Please. You know you can talk to me.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said with false enthusiasm.

  Rylie waited a few minutes after Louise left, watching the sky outside. The full moon felt different than the new moon. Instead of feeling weak and sick, the beast inside was strong.

  And hungry.

  Even though she had eaten a huge helping of pasta, a big salad, and her usual tofu (which came in the form of fake turkey that night), her stomach growled as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Rylie couldn’t shake the thought of rare, dripping meat.

  She changed from her pajamas into a pair of shorts and a loose tank top, hoping her partial transformation wouldn’t lead to the clothes-ripping she always saw in werewolf movies. Slipping from her window feet-first, Rylie dropped to the ground outside and broke into a run.

  Seth was waiting for her at the meeting place. His shaggy hair was gathered at the nape of his neck in a stubby ponytail, and he wore a white shirt that glowed in the night. Rylie was surprised. She had never seen him in anything but black before.

  “You ready?” he asked. She nodded, unable to speak. “Come on.”

  They climbed deep into the trees, scaling the mountain until the path was no longer visible and they could look down on camp. There were only a few pinpoints of light. It looked peaceful from above.

  “How are we going to do this?” Rylie asked.

  “I’ve got a few things in my bag to keep you away from everyone,” Seth said. “There’s this one thing I got from a sporting goods store. It makes a smell like a wolf marking its territory. If I spray it around, it should keep your attention.”

  “So it’s wolf pee,” she said.

  “I didn’t say it was glamorous.”

  “Shouldn’t we... I don’t know... chain me to a rock or something? Aren’t I going to be super strong?”

  “Stronger than usual. Do you want to be tied up?” he asked.

  Rylie glanced up at the moon. Part of her gave an emphatic, “Yes!” But a much larger part of her—a part that grew bigger by the second—bristled at the thought. “No, but if you’re not going to chain me up, then how are you going to keep me out of camp? That marking stuff is only going to distract me.”

  He grinned. “I have a plan. Don’t worry about it.”

  She barely heard him. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the moon.

  Shuddering, Rylie hugged her arms tight around her body and stepped into the shade of a tree. Tremors rippled through her bones. Her ribs and spine ached as though something was growing inside her.

  “What’s happening to me?” she whispered.

  “The new and full moons are different,” he said. “You change on the new moon because it makes the human weak, so the wolf emerges. On the full moon, the wolf becomes strong. It dominates you.”

  “Is that something else you read? Why haven’t I seen it?”

  “I can’t bring you any more books. It’s too risky.”

  “It can’t be any riskier than hanging out with a werewolf,” Rylie said. He knelt to open his backpack and pulled out a flashlight, something that looked like a can of hairspray, and a bundle of black straps. “What is that?”

  “It’s a muzzle,” Seth said.

  She understood: the werewolf curse was transmitted by biting. He had promised to stay with her for the night, but Seth wasn’t going to risk the same fate she had.

  He didn’t trust her. The knowledge stung. “I don’t want to wear it.”

  “It’s only a precaution.”

  “I’m not an animal, Seth, no matter what happens to my body. I will not wear that thing.”

  “Rylie,” he sighed.

  “No.”

  “Are you going to be comfortable with your choice if you hurt someone?”

  “That’s why you’re here,” she said. “You have a plan.”

  “I’m going to do everything I can,” Seth said, “but this is insurance.”

  Rylie shook her head. “I said no.”

  He hesitated, as though considering whether he could force her to wear the muzzle or not. Rylie glared at him until he put it back in the bag. “Okay. Are you ready to start changing?”

  “Not really.”

  As though to point out she didn’t have a choice, her body suddenly rocked with an internal blow. Dropping to her knees, Rylie braced her hands against the forest floor. Her head throbbed.

  Ready or not, the change was about to happen.

  She bent forward until she could rest her forehead on her fists. Her spine arched and her stomach heaved.

  “It hurts,” Rylie whimpered.

  “I’ve got your back. I promise. I won’t let you bite anybody.”

  Seth’s voice was far away. The trees pressed in on her. The moon seemed to swell and grow larger as its silvery rays pounded through her skin.

  Footsteps. He was leaving her.

  “Seth!” she cried.

  Blood spattered against the pine needles. Rylie stared down at the drops as they grew bigger. Her jaw hurt, and she reached up to touch her gums. Her fingers came away slicked with blood. Her canines lengthened and sharpened against her fingertips.

  With a snap, the hinge of her jaw broke. Pain lanced down her spine and Rylie threw back her head. Tears sprung to her eyes as the bones around her nose crunched and expanded beneath the skin, spreading into a thousand tiny fissures. Her flesh wasn’t elastic enough. It felt like it was tearing.

  Rylie’s mouth filled with blood. She tried to spit it out, but she had no more lips. They were stretched tight across her sharp fangs.

  Her fingers raked the earth. From elbow to wrist, from knuckle to fingertip, her bones popped. The nails fell out. The claws that took their place were sharper than knives.

  She was afraid. No. She was horrified. Rylie wanted to cry. There was no way she could deal with this—and definitely no way she was going to let Seth see her in such a state.

  Unfortunately, Rylie was no longer in charge of her body.

  Feet crunched against pine needles. Something was running from her. Running meant prey, which meant food.

  The wolf was starving.

  She shook the blood off herself and took a long stretch across the ground, feeling her joints pop and muscles relax. Pain wasn’t important to the wolf, and she didn’t care if her face felt like it had just been torn apart.

  Sniffing the air, she detected a sour odor. Another wolf. She was in hostile territory. Pressing her nose to the bark of a tree, she breathed in every little bit of the odor. It smelled masculine and domineering, but the hormones were weak. Perhaps he could be challenged. Perhaps this could be her territory.

  The smell was on another tree, and another. It led in the same direction as the pounding feet.

  Some tiny part of her wanted to pursue on her hind legs—ridiculous. Dropping to all fours, she increased her pace to a trot, following the smell from tree to bush to rock.

  Her prey sped up. She caught a glimpse of white between the trees, and she accelerated.

  He ran, and she chased.

  Rylie had become agile in the forest, but human intelligence interfered with the raw instinct that allowed her to utilize the natural paths in the wild. She was nothing compared to the wolf.

  The prey was clunky and awkward, and he paused occasionally to spray pheromones on the trees. He was bright and easy to see in the dark, too.

  He wanted to be chased.

  It gave Rylie pause to realize Seth had deliberately made himself a target, but the wolf shoved her worries aside. Did it matter if the prey knew it w
as prey? It was prey nonetheless, and she was still hungry.

  She angled to sweep around him, then leaped in front of his path.

  He stopped. Changed direction.

  The wolf jumped.

  The prey absorbed the impact and rolled with her, planting his legs in her stomach to fling her over his head. She landed on her side.