Page 27 of Bad Moon Rising

“Besides—” Becka leans back in her chair and folds her arms over her chest— “Orion is definitely the cuter Bellua twin, wouldn’t you agree?” Her gaze homes in on me, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “He’s got the sexy, brooding goth vibes. Although Jackson does have the dimple…”

I practically choke on air as her words register and another wave of fierce possessiveness and jealousy zings through me. I gape at her, at a loss for words, and she throws her head back in laughter.

“Oh my god. You are too fucking easy to tease.” She stands then, sliding her hands down her fitted blue jeans and fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “But, Lily?” The levity she wore like a mask mere seconds before has dissipated. She looks almost…serious as she studies me. I find that I still can’t speak, still can’t reply, my tongue tied into a dozen intricate knots. “You’re cool,” she continues. “I like you—more than I like anyone else in this dumb town. You’re one of the only people who hasn’t been mean to me for being the weird new kid.” Her lips twist into a wry, self-deprecating grin before they flatten out. “But don’t allow a guy to dim your light, okay? Or…in this case…guys. If they won’t come to you, then you’ll just have to make yourself utterly irresistible until they’re no longer able to stay away. Understand?”

I don’t, not at all, but I find that I don’t want to admit this to Becka, who practically oozes confidence and sexuality.

Her smile softens, turning genuine, as she moves around the table and pets my head like you would a dog.

“Stay safe, Lily Pad,” she says, her eyes shining with amusement. And something else, something darker, something I can’t quite articulate. “I would hate to have you get your heart broken because you offered it up to the wrong guys.”

And with those parting words, she turns on her heel and practically prances out of the library.

11

ORION

Prom night.

The night of the full moon.

The night Jackson and I officially join the family business.

I know I should be terrified that in a few short hours, I’ll be facing a werewolf. All my life, my parents trained me on what to do when I faced a monster, but thanks to Brooks being an overprotective shitbag, I’ve never seen one.

That changes tonight.

Or maybe I should feel excited that Brooks has finally decided he can trust us with the task that our parents left to us. Jackson’s been talking about nothing else all week. I know part of that is a way of distracting himself from thinking about Lily and Chase, but he’s also psyched for his first official hunt. Jackson always wanted to be a monster slayer like our parents—he used to call them ‘superheroes’ when he was a kid. He thought everything they did and all the gadgets and occult weapons Mom made were pretty cool. I think that’s why Brooks was so determined to keep us out of it—he didn’t want to shatter Jackson’s illusion of what our parents truly did.

Because the truth is that it’s ugly. The truth is that tonight we’re going to lure a teenage girl into a trap, and we’re going to plunge a stake through her heart. We’re going to kill the werewolf inside Becka Leeway, and we’ll kill her too.

If I think about that too much, I want to scream. So instead, I’m sitting on the windowseat in my room, doodling pictures of wolves, watching Elm Tree Lane for cars, and torturing myself by catching glimpses of Lily through her tiny bathroom window, singing into her hairbrush as she gets ready for the prom.

We’re doing this for her.

And that’s the only thing that can steel my resolve.

Lily and Becka were talking in the library just the other day—I spotted them when I went to look for Lily. Jackson saw them swapping notes in class and laughing. And later that day, Becka came to see Lily at her locker to lend her a book. They’re becoming friends.

Our Lily is friends with a werewolf. And we have to save her.

The sun is just beginning to set when a beat-up old Honda Civic pulls up outside Lily’s house.

I lean back against the window frame, my sketchbook pressed against my knees, and watch Chase get out of the driver’s seat. He’s wearing a penguin suit with a tiny lily pinned to his lapel, and he has a white box in his hands that I’m positive contains a matching corsage.

Lilies for Lily. How fucking original.

I would have got her something vivid and red, to match her hair. To match her. But then, if she weren’t going to the prom with Chase, she wouldn’t go with me. It would be Lily and Jackson. That’s just how these things go.

Chase squares his shoulders and breathes into his palm. He strides up onto the porch, beneath the rose trellis, and Lily’s mother throws open the door. Even through the window, I can hear the relief in her voice as she ushers him inside. Her daughter is dating a nice, normal boy. Not one of those scary Bellua twins with their freaky parents and their house full of occult junk—

“Orion, Brooks says it’s time to go.”

I jump. I hadn’t heard Jackson come into my room.

“In a second.” I clutch my sketchbook tight against my chest. I can’t tear my eyes away from the Dean’s rose-covered house.

I just want to see her. I need to see her.