Page 34 of Blood Moon

And remember, we were never gods to them; they threw the second stone.

Article I, Lost Letters from Aadan the First

“You owe me.” It was the first thing Naomi said once we got to the Faulkner Library. We sat in a booth on the first floor, and the only thing I could focus on was the simple pleasure that the book was secured.

My hands tingled at the idea of pulling it out, sifting through the delicate pages. Felt my mouth water at the thought. It’s right there …

Naomi’s snapping fingers brought me to. “Are you even listening to me? Why’d you want that book, anyway?”

I fiddled with an answer, locking my sight on two students passing by. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Naomi gasped. “I’m offended you’d even say that. Try me.”

I leaned forward. “This book marks the start of the legends of were—”

A hand flew up right away. “You’re right. I’m not interested.”

I rolled my eyes.

“What? I’m only being honest. What I want to know is what happened between Seven and Julian. Tell me everything, stat!”

She was rather demanding, but I did just that. To no one’s surprise, Naomi gave me shit for it.

“They were clearly fighting over you,” she said, twirling a piece of hair on her finger. “It’s a battle for your love, and you know what I think? Why choose? I think you should date both of them. Have an open relationship. That’s a thing.”

“I’m not going to date either of them.”

“Liar.”

“It’s the truth. I don’t know how I feel about them. We’re barely friends.”

“But you agree they’re attractive, right?”

“ Unfortunately … ” I whispered.

She mocked me. “ Waah, what an unfortunate problem to have. ”

I moved quickly, jolting across the table to pinch her. Before I could, she flopped out of the booth, laughing until someone stared us down.

“ What? ” She said louder than she needed to. She turned to me. “We can talk. It’s not like we’re on the second floor.”

I chuckled. “Naomi, what am I going to do with you?”

“Love me forever,” she said, smiling widely.

Eventually, we reviewed our notes for Wuthering Heights and worked on our papers in silence. After, Naomi offered to drive me to my dorm so I wouldn’t have to make the long walk in the night by myself.

In the car, the outskirts of the campus were encompassed in darkness.

Clusters of trees appeared as gloomy things with boney arms. Even with the streetlights, it was hard to see past their thick trunks.

A squint, and there was a flash of something.

A shadow running along the line of the deep wood.

It was barely there, but it moved faster than the car until it disappeared altogether.

I doubted myself, wondering if I’d seen anything at all.

Naomi wished me goodbye, and anxiety met me as I stepped outside the car. It meandered close beside, its spindly fingers sweeping down my spine. I gripped the straps of my backpack. The doors to Hester Hall felt like they were a mile away.

A few voices echoed nearby, and the sight of other students made me feel a small relief. Further out, I spotted someone walking in my direction, the light post bringing them into focus.

I tilted my head as I got closer. “ Sev? ”

He looked up from his phone. “ Mira? ”

We met each other in the middle. Closer now, I noticed a faint cut by his hairline, and I contemplated what had happened between now and earlier. Had he run into Julian again? Did they fight?

Seven was dressed in sweatpants and a crewneck, but there was something off about him. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face, and it looked as though he should be breathless, keeling over for air. Instead, he stood confidently, inhaling without trouble.

“What are you doing out so late?” I asked. It was a little after eleven.

His dimples pierced me when he smiled, turning me into sap. “Study group for the team.” He wiped at his forehead, tucked his phone into his pocket. “Coach said it’s better to hold each other accountable at the same time. If one of us fails, we all fail.”

Group mentality, but it made sense. “I was just finishing up homework, too.” Before I said anything else, I had to know. “What happened earlier, between you and Julian?”

Seven sighed, dropped his head. “I’m embarrassed, Mira. I shouldn’t have lost my cool around you … around my friends. That wasn’t okay.”

“Yeah … it wasn’t. It was frightening seeing you like that.”

“I’d never want to—I’d never want to scare you. I’m sorry.”

“But why were you so angry with him?”

He looked away from me, into the night. The silvery light from the moon cast a glow on his brown skin. “Our families don’t exactly get along. There’s a deep history that ties us together for the worse. Naturally, we’re tense around each other, but … I’d rather not get into it right now.”

I pushed my lips to the side, watching his face. He wouldn’t see me, refused. “Sounds serious, though. Should I be concerned?”

“No.” He didn’t hesitate, and he brought his gaze to me. “I wouldn’t do anything stupid on campus. Too much to risk.” Seven’s nostrils flared when he exhaled, and he slid a hand down his face. “I shouldn’t have let myself lose it like I did. I’m really sorry.”

When I accepted his apology, he asked me where I was headed, and I pointed to my dorm up ahead. “Want someone to walk with?”

The night crept in, and I nodded.

A ghostly wind enfolded us as the distant hoot of an owl sounded from a nearby tree. We were stolen glances between heartbeats, not speaking, only careening together in space. There was a change in his breathing, and he chewed his bottom lip. Suddenly, he was within reach, sliding a hand into mine.

“ Can I? ” he murmured.

I nodded, a smile coming on. Seven’s hand was large in comparison to my own. It was welcoming, the only thing making me feel warm in the frigid evening.

“ God, ” he mumbled, a flush to his cheeks. “Don’t smile at me like that, Mira. Please. ”

“Like what?”

“Like that . All beautiful and everything. You don’t understand how that gets me.”

I smiled away from him, sharing the view with the stirring night critters until there was a tap on my shoulder, encouraging me to consider him again.

“I got your flowers,” I said. “They’re lovely. Thanks for sending them.”

“You deserved more than that.” He squeezed my hand. “But I hope it was enough to convey my apologies,” he said, and I assured him that it was.

After we climbed the steps to Hester Hall, Seven glanced over at the chairs on the end of the porch. “Wanna talk for a little?” He suggested, and I agreed, following him over.

I asked about practice; in turn, he asked about classes. We talked about home life, and the cities we were from. Seven was from North Kansas City, located past the Missouri border, and he scrunched his nose when I told him Timber Plains was home for me.

Seven leaned in while I talked, watching my mouth move like he was studying me for an exam. It was strange in that it made me feel unsure of myself, but each new moment came with a smile that made my heart beat a little harder than it did before.

Being around him felt different than anyone else. There was no fear, no threat of a lurking danger. It was an innocence that sliced through my soul, poured me over him.

And it was a reason, a reminder that happiness could exist, a glimpse into the world of perhaps .

There was a version of me who attended Lakeland University on my own accord, who was steadfast in friendships, who experienced the extent of all there was to offer.

She was blissful, and daring, and grounded—if only I could get to her, wear her skin for a day.

But the thought came with an aching caution, a question: What would I have to sacrifice to be her?

Another caveat: If Bobby hadn’t applied for me to be at Lakeland, who had? And if it were Rena, why?

It was approaching midnight. “I better head inside,” I said. Seven nodded in agreement.

He walked me to the door, grabbed my hand before I went inside. Those vivid eyes were deep, bruising me. “Hey, Mira …” He took a breath, looked at me again. “Would you go to homecoming with me?”

My jaw went slack. With everything happening, I’d almost forgotten homecoming was in a few weeks. There were signs in the dining hall, posters pinned in academic buildings. All themed The Great Gatsby .

He had a stutter when he spoke. “No—no pressure. If you’re going with someone else that’s o—”

I stopped him, held his hand tighter. “I’d love to go with you.”

His eyes lit up. “ Really? ”

“Yeah, I think it would be fun.”

“I’ll make sure of that. I promise.”

We moved closer to each other, and he swallowed as I wrapped my arms around him, pressing into the center of his body. With my face against him, I could feel how shaky his breathing had become, the rise and fall of his chest jolting.

A warm eucalyptus scent clung to the cotton in his sweater, and when he pulled away, it was in the smallest of increments. He pressed his forehead against mine, a shadow forming. My breathing hitched.

I chewed at the inside of my lip, pushed my fingertips into his arms. He flexed at my touch, and it made me smile. At once, the tips of our noses touched, and he reached his hand to cup the side of my face.

“ So beautiful, ” he whispered, lips grazing mine. He closed his eyes, and for a second, I could feel the warmth of his open mouth pressing in on mine until an earsplitting sound tore us apart.

A screeching wailed in the shadows past the building, close to the trees. It wasn’t human.

“What was that?” I looked for an animal in distress.

Seven stepped away and looked into the evening, searching. Mortification froze him in place, and I pulled on his shirt, hoping to snap him out of it. “ Sev, ” I uttered.

He flinched, straightened his stance. “Sorry.” His eyes were a shade of ebony. “It’s just … I don’t know. That was strange.”

I gulped, investigated the shadows. “Maybe we should call campus security,” I said, ready to go inside. “With everything going on in the city, I don’t want anything to happen to you on your walk back.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. The darkness is nothing for me,” Seven promised.

“But that was weird,” I reminded, trying to keep my mind from thinking the worst.

“Yeah … but I’m sure it’s just some animal. It didn’t sound like a bear.”

I stopped looking into the night, anxious I’d see something I couldn’t explain. “I’m going to head inside. Will you please let me know when you make it to your dorm?” He gave me a nod and opened the door for me.

Inside, I dashed through the foyer and past a few people that lingered on the couch. When I returned to my room, the TV was on, but Stevie was gone. I imagined she was a few doors down, with Em and Abi.

By the time I climbed into bed, my head was spinning, and then, a thudding reminder: the book. With a careful hand, I retrieved it from my bag, brought it with me to bed. My fingers grazed the cover, bumped over the engraved words.

I sank into my covers as I opened it, the smell of leather engulfing me.

A table of contents marked three sections: The Beginning, The Middle, The Now.

As I flipped a page, something shifted toward the back.

It was a smaller booklet with withered pages, titled: Lost Letters by Articles , labeled I-VII.

Tucked the booklet back, returned to page one.

The grander part of this tale may never be published past what has already taken place. For many desire to believe that of which lies ahead but repudiate that of which lies behind; misfortune may emanate from both.

It was but a hot summer’s eve in July of 1831.

A day which history would preserve. A dozen civilians were stricken by mysterious beasts.

The troublesome event ensued west of the Missouri River, a quarter ‘til midnight.

City folk descended into mass panic, many fleeing from the port from which the monsters emerged—beneath the moonlight, at the edge of the bank.

Owing to this catastrophe are the souls who remained to authenticate this occurrence. It was said that the first beast was of tawny and black colorings. A physique grander than the grandest bear, with formidable teeth and elongated claws. This, they believed, was of Lycan descent.

One of the extremities of this malevolent creature was perhaps the way in which it attacked its prey.

It lunged deliberately for the heart and chest, delivering fatal wounds.

Few of the unfortunates were decapitated.

An onlooker uncovered a skull in the belly of the woods, splintered open like an egg, some many feet away from its body.

The second beast was thought to be of the Nosferatu, humanlike but not of the Devil’s mercy.

The beauty they possessed was that of a curse, capable of luring even the best philosopher.

Teeth sharper than iron. According to many accounts, the Nosferatu were inflicted with an unquenchable blood lust. Onlookers alleged both beasts fought one another, rather than operating as coconspirators.

Unlike the Lycan, the Nosferatu inflicted pain to the neck, draining victims of blood like a leech …

My eyes flickered from line to line until I couldn’t hold the book up.

The moment my vision succumbed to blackness, lifeless bodies appeared under crystal moonlight.

Smoke danced in the air, twirling toward a bleak sky.

A riverbank sparkled with water. Brushing against the shore, a head of a man.

It drifted toward me, bodyless. Red eyes gaped in my direction.

An open mouth, fangs sharp and oozing with a thick blood.

It blinked …

I jolted awake, sweating. Hours had passed. Stevie had returned, asleep in her bed. The room was void of light, and the hall was filled with silence.

I placed the book in the drawer of my bedside table, pulled back the curtains, and peeked through the blinds to stare into the woods.

All was still. Not an utterance from a living creature; not even the grass stirred. But swelling in the back of my thoughts was the growing whisper of Julian’s voice. It pleaded with me, gripped at my membranes.

You know this, he’d said.