Page 10 of Blood Moon

Every face she wore was a cover to hide her own.

Article V, Lost Letters from Aadan the First

His voice was so clear inside me, it felt like an echo: It’s not safe for you here.

I chewed on those words as I strolled behind a group of students on the sidewalk in pure confusion about what had happened until I looked up to see Seven.

A slow smile formed on his face, his dimples piercing. He’d been talking to a group of people by a bench, laughing at some comment, until we caught eyes.

There was a thudding in my body, and I contemplated looking away from him, pretending I hadn’t noticed his presence, but the truth was that a small sigh of relief uncurled within me. Someone familiar. Someone safe.

Seconds later, he was waving and coming toward me, and I fixed a sure smile on my face, telling myself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Everything would be fine. That guy was simply being dramatic … but even recalling the idea of him made my chest cave.

“Mirabella,” Seven said, a twinkle in those colorful eyes. He was so enthused to see me that he held his arms open for a hug. It was my hesitation that caused him to change his stance. “Ha, too soon?” he joked, scratching the back of his neck, his curls bouncing past the collar of his shirt.

The ordeal made me laugh, a feeling I craved so damn bad. “Hi, Seven.” I smiled, and it was genuine this time. “Miss me?”

He fell into pace with me on the sidewalk. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re just about as subtle as a gun.”

Seven glanced away from me, his shoulders sagging as he mumbled, “ Shit .”

I laughed, bumped him in the arm as we walked. “It’s okay. It’s good to see you, too. How’s life as the second-string quarterback?”

“You remembered?” Seven tilted his head in amusement and surprise. He had one of those smiles that hit me like a wave and pulled me under. I’d be a fool if I didn’t confess that it made me blush.

“It’s hard to forget. You’re kind of a big deal,” I said, knowing full well I was stroking his ego, but it felt good to be nice, to be somewhat human.

He shrugged his shoulders dismissively, though it was so clear how he ate up every word.

“I mean, it’s going okay.” He sucked in a breath.

“First day’s been kind of a whirlwind. I feel like the professors are going to be a bit harder on me because of who my dad is, which sucks, but that’s how these things go—at least that’s what my brothers said when they went to school here.

Most of them have moved on now, so I have hope. ”

“Brothers?” I asked. “How many siblings do you have?”

He raised his brows. “That’s right. You haven’t heard the story yet, huh?

It’s actually how I got my name. My mother’s a bit of a superstitious woman.

I was her seventh son, on her twenty-seventh birthday, so the name Seven seemed fitting.

” He made the shape of a triangle with his hands. “Three sevens. It’s a perfect trinity.”

“Oh, wow,” I said, thinking that whoever Seven’s mother was, she deserved the biggest hug. “And all boys?”

“Yeah. My parents got an early start, but there are also two set of twins in the family.”

“Kinda sounds like you’re a lucky guy—your family, too.”

“Luck ier now.”

I rolled my eyes, concealing a smile. Seven exhibited a mix of excitement with a nervous edge. “Do those kinds of lines make girls fold for you?”

“Not always, but I gotta shoot my shot,” he said, miming a free throw. “Plus, I’m hoping to leave a good impression. Is it working?”

“It’s hard to say,” I said, twisting my lips. Then he deepened his gaze, and I glanced away, looking at the people on the sidewalk around us.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare at you?”

I rolled my eyes. It did make me slightly uncomfortable. Not because it was strange, but because it was so warm in comparison to what had occurred before seeing him. The reminder made this innocent thing feel wrong.

I slowed to a halt in front of the Student Center—a large two-story building that held the dining hall, mail center, coffee shop, and study hall.

Seven paused, too, and I wondered where he was off to after this.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare at you? ” I said, being testy, but mostly because the banter was nice.

Seven twisted his lips until the bottom unfolded and he bit down on it. The sight did something to me, and I swallowed hard. He tilted his chin. “You can’t answer a question with a question. And …” he glanced at me almost shyly. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Do I have to?”

“No,” he breathed, smiling slowly. “Just curious, is all. Speaking of … you should come to the game next Saturday. It’s the first of the season, and they go all out here. Plus, Coach said I’d get playing time.”

“Right. I almost forgot I was talking to a celebrity.”

He flushed a little, and it made me smile. He was nervous again.

“I’ll think about it,” I said definitively, and then a group of people passed us to go inside the Student Center. “Are you off to somewhere?”

“Yeah, practice actually.”

“Well, thanks for the walk and good conversation.”

He scrunched his face and took a few steps back. “Looks like I’ll catch you around, Mirabella.”

“Looks like you will … and it’s Mira.”

Another smile and a gentle wave. “See you around, Mira.”

“See you,” I said, matching his expression. And then he was off, down the sidewalk, fading into the body of students, but all I could hear was the sound of my name rolling off his tongue and the feeling he’d left behind. I wanted more of whatever it was he gave me.

Once inside the Student Center, I headed toward the mail center. I was aware of the possibility that I had nothing in my mailbox, but knowing who Bobby was, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d set up a care package as a reminder that he was only a drive away.

Past the student store, there was a narrow corridor and a wall lined with gold mailboxes, something that looked like it belonged in a different time period.

I found box 136 and entered the combination code.

It came unlocked with a twist and a creak.

Lying on the metal bottom was an ivory envelope.

After a few seconds, I realized the absence of a return address.

Instead, written in the loveliest script I’d seen in a long time was my name in the center: Mirabella Owens.

At this, I gasped, struggling to breathe in any air at all as my knees wobbled beneath me.

The shaking in my hand wouldn’t stop as I read the words over and over again in utter disbelief.

That craftsmanship. The fine tip pen. The delicate curves at the ends of the letters. This was the handwriting of my mother.

In my younger years, I’d spent so much time watching Rena write long letters to friends who lived far away from Kansas.

Though her face remained stoic, I saw how she really felt on page by catching glimpses of every few words.

She missed these people, whoever they were, and they had believed in the art of letter-writing just as much as she had.

And now it was me. She’d written to me . I was too afraid to move, to breathe, to think. Afraid that if I did, everything before me would vanish. My vision blurred and a warmth spread in my cheeks as I held the envelope to my face to make sure I was truly seeing what I was seeing.

My mother, who’d been gone for five years, was alive …

She was alive, and this was the first sign of her since she’d left. She knew of me, she’d written to me, and somehow, she knew how to find me. There was a line of thoughts swirling in my head until I was startled by an unfamiliar voice that brought me back to reality.

“You finding everything okay?” they asked, and I wiped away a tear. It was an older white man who had a gold name tag pinned beneath the collar of his shirt. Someone on the staff. He stood a few feet away, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, timidly moving forward.

I shut the mailbox and pressed the envelope close to my chest. “I’m fine. Thanks,” I said, and before he could ask again, I hurried past him and left the building.

I wanted to break into a run once I hit the Campus Center, but something like that seemed too alarming. My eyes continued to water as I chased the pavement before me, moving as quickly as I could between people and avoiding eye contact until I saw Hester Hall.

There was no telling where my roommate was or where my new friends were; all I knew was that I needed to open this letter immediately.

Inside, there wasn’t time to remove my shoes or hang up my bag. I dropped my belongings and strode toward my bed with a lump in my throat as I held the envelope to the light, noticing there was something more than just a letter waiting for me inside.

Funny enough, it wasn’t even my birthday.

It wouldn’t be for a few months—not that I’d ever heard from Rena then—but I had always hoped.

Always waited. Always pretended that if she were alive, she’d send me a handwritten note in the same way she’d sent her friends letters over the years.

When the mailbox remained void of her, I summed it up to my lack of importance—that she’d forgotten about me and Bobby—and that, perhaps, she wanted it to stay that way indefinitely.

Until today …

Until this very earth-shattering moment …

My stomach felt like it was clenched into a fist, and my fingers trembled as I flipped the envelope over, peeled back the seal, and opened the flap.

With a breath, I pulled out the letter and read the first line:

My dearest Mirabella,

That was all it took to bring back the swelling in my eyes, to make my bones feel like goop. I could no longer stand because of it. I nearly fell into a sitting position on my bed, clenched my fist to the curve of my mouth as I held the paper with a firm grasp.

Itw was really her …

I’m so proud of you and all your accomplishments. There’s never a day that passes where I’m not thinking of you.

You are my beginning and my ending, and as nature would have it, we’ll always be a part of each other. Always.

Though I want to see you, as things are currently, I’m unable to come to you right now, but I promise, I’m trying very hard to find a secure way to bring us together. There are many matters you and your father need to know … many of which I cannot detail in this letter.

You may already be well aware of this now, and if not now, soon, but the world isn’t how it appears.

Don’t be deceived by those who are close to you, even if they seem as though they may be on your side.

Everything is a sign. Everything is a warning.

Trust your instincts. And above all else, please, for the love of gods, be safe.

Enclosed is a family heirloom. It will act as a ward; it will protect you since I cannot. Wear it and don’t let it out of your sight. Undoubtedly, it has always been yours, Mirabella.

Remember:

More than the stars in the sky …

More than the air in the world …

More than the life I live …

that’s how much I love you.

Everything I’ve done has been for you, for your father. I swear it on my life.

Amor vincit omnia,

Mama

Resting at the bottom of the envelope was a gold chained necklace, and dangling in the center was an opal pendant held by a thin lobster claw clasp.

It was exactly as I remembered. As a child, Rena would let me wear this necklace while I played make-believe. I’d always been enamored by the sight of it, and I felt like a princess when I wore it, like I was born in a time fit for large gowns held at the ribs by tight corsets.

I remembered the distinct metallic smell that came from it, an aroma I assumed magic was born of, and looking at it now, I still sensed that same enchantment.

A ward, she had said. Protection.

I slid to the floor and pressed my spine against the bed as I held the heirloom in my hand.

When I squeezed it, it felt like her, the essence of who she was in my life.

All the stories and songs she’d sung. All the adventures we’d had, all the moments she’d held my hand in encouragement.

And all the times she’d wrapped her arms around me to tell me that I was life’s greatest gift.

This was who my mother was before she disappeared.

Now, she was no longer this idea in my head, and I was indisputably torn.

On one hand, there was a sense of reprieve.

I knew my mother was alive and had a motive for why she’d gone.

I knew there was some vague plan and a promise of a return.

But on the other hand, I was overtaken with anxiety and an ambiguity that made my temples throb.

I was struck with terror, my body trembling beneath the weight that something was after me.

She’d flat out declared I wasn’t safe—that the world wasn’t as it seemed—that I shouldn’t be trusting of those who could be my friends.

What was I supposed to do with this information, other than uncover every word she didn’t say, other than try to find where she was and why she couldn’t return?

Was what was after her also after me? Was this the danger that guy was warning me of?

I was unsure how Rena remembered me, but I refused to be the broken little girl I once was, waiting for her to come back.

I’d had to pick up the pieces after she left, I’d had to do it alone.

Five years she’d been gone. I didn’t want to wait five more.

Rena had revealed so much in that letter that it hit me low and hard in every sunken place.

This wasn’t how I’d envisioned the next chapter of my life, but I had no choice in this regard.

Moments passed before I rose, processing this unfortunate revelation.

I wasn’t safe, but I was unsure what threatened my security.

I placed the letter in the drawer of my desk and tucked the necklace into the front pocket of my jeans.

Family heirloom or not, I was determined to figure out how this small object had the power to protect me and what, exactly, it was supposed to protect me from.