The Mayfair Moon (The Darkwoods Trilogy 1)

“Daisy will keep Harry safe,” he said.

I turned away from him again.

“Why didn’t that werewolf just kill me? If they wanted me dead, or even Turned, that one could’ve done it easily.”

The bed moved as Isaac stood up from it.

“Nathan and I have been wondering about that.”

I wanted there to be more to his answer, a theory at least. Something. Their concern about it was surely what I saw pass between them earlier at the hospital.

Earlier at Finch’s Grocery, everything swarmed me at once, the realities of me being what I am and Isaac being what he is.

Finally, I turned around and looked him hopelessly in the eyes. “No matter what,” I began, “you’ll outlive me, Isaac. Either I’ll grow old and die, or something like a car accident will end my life too short. My heart might give out and surgery will fail to repair it. Or, worst of all, I’ll be Turned by someone other than you and either die in the process, or become one of them.” I felt the nerves in my lips jerking, my eyes watering.

Isaac, for a moment, couldn’t look at me.

“I promised I’d never ask it of you,” I said. “I meant that. I could never put you in that position. I wouldn’t let you.”

I walked away from the window and away from Isaac. Something inside me knew that what I was about to propose would require I not be near him.

“What if I get Nathan to do it?”

Isaac’s eyes turned black in half a second. He rushed at me so fast I never saw him move. My back suddenly pressed against the bedroom door. My throat wedged behind his powerful hand and though he wasn’t hurting me, the breath left my lungs.

With his razor-sharp teeth an inch from my face, a growl rattled Isaac’s body. I froze. I couldn’t move if I wanted to; my body and mind disconnected completely from one another.

Isaac moved his head around in a circular motion, cracking his neck. Veins bulged from it, pulsating. But I had to trust that he wasn’t going to hurt me; that this display wasn’t an act of violence, but instead, one controlling a violent trigger.

He shook it off. I felt his hand on my throat ease until finally he let go. The lids fell over his eyes and when they opened again, the blackness was gone.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, moving away from me.

He backed further away, punishing himself, his head lowered in shame and regret.

He went to his knees in the center of the floor.

I knelt in front of him.

I placed my hand on the side of his face. “You didn’t hurt me, Isaac. You see?”

The pain in his face was unmistakable. He was breathing so hard. Nothing I could say was ever going to make this better.

“Please tell me,” he said, “that you don’t really want that.”

“I don’t,” I admitted. “Isaac, I just don’t know what to do. How am I supposed to go on like this, knowing what you are? That any future we have together is limited by my humanity?” That word, humanity, felt acidic on my tongue. I felt betrayed by destiny that I should be so different from the one I loved.

I thought Isaac would cry. Everything about his face suggested it, the hardness of his eyes, and the tightness of his mouth.

The door to his bedroom opened and Rachel stood there, smirking across at me. Isaac’s head jerked up quickly, angrily, suspiciously. “Rachel,” he growled, “this is a bad time.”

“It’s always a bad time with you,” she grinned, “isn’t it?”

The girlfriend in me wanted to stand up to her, punch her in the face. The human in me kept me quiet and still.

“We overheard you talking,” Rachel added. Two girls, werewolves, stood behind her in the hallway; their smiles just as slippery. “I thought by now you’d propose the Blood Bond to your precious human.”

Isaac was on his feet so fast I hardly noticed. He stood toe to toe with her, noses practically touching. Her defiance was frightening. I didn’t have to see his eyes to know they had changed colors again.

The two girls backed away, the smiles dissolving from their faces at once.

“What is she talking about?” I said, but he didn’t answer.

Without moving her head, Rachel averted her attention to me. “They say that if one survives the transformation, the other often can too. Don’t know why you won’t just Turn her, Isaac.”

“One what?” I said, baffled.

I felt the frustration boiling inside of me.

“If you don’t leave now,” Isaac threatened, “my brother’s approval will no longer protect you.”

Rachel’s eyes slowly moved back to face Isaac. Staring each other down, I got the worst feeling from the silence. I stood up carefully, but I couldn’t take it anymore; I wanted answers.

“Blood Bond?” I said, walking up to them. “Isaac, please tell me what she’s talking about.”

Still, he ignored me.

Rachel broke her stance first, leaving Isaac there stiff and ready to kill her. She reached out and touched my cheek. I remained as I was, refusing to let her intimidate me anymore.

“You are pretty,” she began, “I give you that much, but that’s all you have.”

My hand to Isaac’s chest stopped him, but I knew he wouldn’t honor my request for much longer. It was only because of me that he hadn’t already killed her, that he hadn’t turned into the violent, brutal creature that he was.

“Rachel,” I said, “What are you saying?” I really just wanted her to be honest with me, stop playing her hateful, puzzling games for once. I hoped the sincerity was visible in my face. I hoped she would respect it.

Her hand fell away; it had felt soft against my skin.

Nathan stood in the doorway then and Rachel’s posture changed. Still defiant as ever to Isaac, but now with less mockery. She held her chin high. The girls who had been with her, disappeared.

“Anymore of this, Rachel,” said Nathan, “and you’re on your own with my brother. Do you understand?”

She didn’t answer. One last look at me before she slithered out of the room. Nathan passed Isaac an apologetic nod before following her, shutting the door behind him.

“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” he growled, still staring fiercely at the door.

“Isaac,” I said softly, pleadingly, “what is a Blood Bond?”

Something about him seemed different suddenly. Behind the pain-stricken exterior, I saw in him, a sliver of a thought. It was faint, but just enough that it was there. His gaze met mine and it held there, suspended in time.

Then it all fell apart.

“No...,” he said aloud to himself.

He began to pace, uncertainty and fury in every step.

“Tell me, Isaac. Please.” I approached him. “Don’t do this to me. What’s wrong?”

“No, I can’t,” he said. “I won’t do it.” It seemed he was arguing with himself.

“You won’t do what?” I tried to take his hands, but he carefully pushed me away from him.

Much like he had done to me, I grabbed Isaac and pushed him into the wall. It barely stunned him, but he let me have my way by not rejecting it.

“You won’t do what, Isaac?” I had had enough of these broken sentences, these secretive little topics that somehow were different, yet connected to one another.

He shut his eyes in surrender. I heard Sebastian howl from deep inside the basement again, but nothing could break this moment. Nothing.

“I think it’s time you met my father,” Isaac said to me.

17

ABSENTLY, I STEPPED AWAY from him and my hands fell to my sides. He grabbed my coat from the foot of his bed and urged me to put it on.

“But—”

“No, Adria,” he said, placing his hands upon my cheeks, “it’s the only way you’ll understand any of it.”

What had I done? Did I push Isaac too far with my unwavering persistence? To most girls, meeting your boyfriend’s parents is a simple, possibly unnerving event. For me, it was something very different.

Isaac kissed me fully on the lips. “I need to do this,” he said and I could taste the sweetness of his breath. “You’ll be safe with me. Just trust me.”

“...but, why do I need my coat?” Between confusion and fear, there was no hope for me. I could hardly form a sentence anymore. All I wanted to do was stand my ground and refuse.

“He isn’t here,” Isaac revealed, zipping my coat up. “He’s in the mountains, far away from here.”

I just stood there, becoming more baffled by the second. Isaac did all the moving and talking for the both of us. He grabbed his car keys and then my hand.

He wasted no time. We were out the door and in his car in seconds.

“What about my uncle?” I said. “I can’t just leave.”

“We’ll be back by morning. You have your cell on you, right?”

“Yes,” I said, patting my leg pocket just to be sure.

The question was merely his way of assuring me that it was okay to leave, that the phone was my link to Beverlee.

The car trudged through the thick, undisturbed snow down the long driveway. It got easier to pass once we made it out onto the main road. Only silence filled the air around us and the sound of the heat blowing gently from the vents. Isaac watched straight ahead, focused and distressed. I could only imagine what he was thinking. No, honestly I couldn’t even do that. To pretend I had any clue as to the importance of what was going on was absurd.

I sat with my head against the car window. The world flew by outside. A blanket of glittering white surrounded by night. Houses dotted the side of the highway. An old factory rose high on the horizon, one-dimensional, like a silhouette against the night sky. Lights from 24-hour gas stations and the occasional oncoming car were the only source of light for miles. Mostly there was nothing but trees and asphalt, winding black roads with yellow lines moving eerily in my vision. I watched the stars a lot; hard not to when they are the only things that seemed attentive to me. Isaac was lost somewhere in his thoughts, so deeply I was afraid to disturb him.

At least an hour into the drive and the stars and the moon were the only light source left. Street and headlights were non-existent, like houses or anything else that signaled signs of modern life.

Finally, I fell asleep.

And I dreamt:

I was sitting at the edge of a creek with my shoes off and my feet in the water. Such a peaceful place, surrounded by spring. The smell of honeysuckle lingered in the air. I could sit here forever. Water trickled gracefully over smooth rocks in the creek’s bed. I reached out and let it run through my fingers. The wind blew through my hair, ruffling the bushes nearby. The sky was never bluer. Thick, cottony clouds drifted gradually in spots.

“Who are you waiting for?” said my mother, Rhonda.

She stood at the bank, her shoulder propped against a skinny tree.

I looked up. “No one,” I said.

She walked toward me, but I continued to watch my own reflection in the water.

A hand touched my hair. “It’s not safe for you out here, Dria.”

“It’s perfectly safe,” I said. “And I’m not waiting for anyone.”