Page 42 of Bad Moon Rising

“I will.”

Even to my own ears, that sounds like a lie.

I drive in a daze but manage to make it back to Elm Tree Lane without hitting anything. There are lights on in Lily’s house, and I see a shadow moving in the kitchen window. Good. I hope she’s curled up on the sofa, watching a movie and not thinking about the horrible things she saw tonight.

I blink hard, trying to get that image of Lily in her burnt orange prom dress brandishing that plunger out of my head. Even though her date just turned into a werewolf in front of her, she was determined to fight him. That’s our Lily. She’s stronger than anyone suspects.

As I step out of the car, my feet carry me halfway to her door before I remember that I can’t go in there.

If I lay eyes on her, I’ll never be able to leave.

I spin away and head into our house.

I only arrived with one backpack, so it doesn’t take me long to shove my clothes inside. I throw some clothes and toothbrushes in another backpack for the twins, empty the cupboards of junk food and beer, and collect the extra stakes we made, as well as some of my parents’ spellbooks that I left behind last time. I also make sure to grab money out of the safe and over twenty fake IDs for each of us.

I pause in Orion’s room, my throat tightening as I take in the artwork tacked to the walls, the shelves of esoteric books, and the impressive computer setup. Before I talk myself out of it, I march to his desk, grab a stack of sketchbooks and his boxes of paints and pencils and charcoals, and shove them in on top of the other things.

I back out of the room, a lump rising in my throat.

“I’m so sorry, little bro.”

I speak the words into the silent, empty room.

My eyes fall on a photograph of our parents tacked on the wall beside Orion’s bed. Their smiling faces mock me.

“You were supposed to look after your brothers.” I can practically hear my mother’s voice pounding in my skull. “And now you can’t even do what needs to be done? You failed us.”

I shake my head. “I won’t do it. I won’t hurt Orion.”

My hunter training was crystal clear— if someone becomes a werewolf, you put them down. You make sure that they never have the chance to wolf out. No matter who they are or what they mean to you, you have to do them the kindness of knocking them off because there is no cure once they’re bit.

And even the gentlest souls—even innocent, kind, strange boys like Orion—will kill without remorse on the full moon.

But I don’t care about the rules. I’m not going to kill my brother.

We can live with this. We just have to think of it like a disability or sickness. We can manage Orion’s wolf. We’ll lock him away during a full moon, making it so he can’t hurt anyone. And we’ll protect him, because if another hunter sees him, they’ll kill him.

I tear myself away from my parents’ accusing eyes and busy myself loading the car. There’s barely any room for the twins in the back of the ‘stang by the time I’m done, but they’ll thank me later.

I cast one last look around the cozy living room where I grew up, and then I lock the door behind me and climb into the Mustang. As I back down the drive, I hear an angel calling my name.

“Brooks! Brooks, you have to help me!”

My eyes lift to the Dean house. Lily flies out the front door and beneath the trellis of rambling roses. She’s still wearing that flame dress, although the front is splattered with blood. Orion’s blood? I thought Becka pulled her away before he got bit.

She tears across the lawn, her pretty cheeks streaked with tears and those gold-flecked eyes raw with despair.

If she reaches me, I’ll cave.

I’ll pull her into my arms and kiss those tears away.

I’ll tell her everything will be all right, even though it’s a lie.

I won’t be able to let her go.

And I would doom her.

She’s better off without us in her life.