Page 52 of Blood Moon
I swallowed. “I just need a second,” I said, and I turned and hurried out of the ballroom before he could stop me.
I headed for the nearest distraction while I contemplated what I’d do.
Even Julian had left, scurried away like a freaking scared dog, so if I wanted to ask him for clarity, I had no way to access him.
I stood in line at the drink table, grabbed a cup of whatever punch was provided. I kept my vision on the entrance, in the hopes that my friends would stroll through. But after a few minutes, nothing changed, and Seven appeared with a hesitant smile on his face. Shit.
“Ready for another dance?” He held his hand out, and I kept my free hand pressed to my side. I felt bad for leaving him on the dance floor, and the dread in his eyes told me I needed to fix this, only I didn’t know how.
And it was that look— that innocence—that made it hard to understand why Julian wanted me to stay away from Seven, when Seven had been the highlight of the evening. Not long ago, while we danced, I’d convinced myself of the ease of him, how he could be someone who was good for me.
I looked at him again, remembering the times he’d made sure I got home safe, the late-night walks we’d had, the way he checked on me frequently, without a reminder.
He was sun in my rainy forest, water in my endless desert.
How could this guy, standing in front of me with those wide eyes and dimples, be someone to fear?
It was that —all our history—that advised me I could trust Seven.
He’d been a good friend, and at times, more than that.
I gulped the rest of my drink down. “You know, you were right. I’m not feeling too good.
” It was a different plan, one that included a lie.
A lie I felt awful about, but a plan that would at least take me back to my dorm.
From there, I could stay with Bobby for the weekend.
He wouldn’t question me too much, but he was Bobby. I’m sure he’d find a way around it.
Seven’s face dropped. “Oh,” he said, assessing me. “Um, I can take you back to campus, if that’s what you want.”
“You sure?” I asked. I wanted to give him an out, or at least a reason to change my mind. “I’d feel awful because there’s still so much of the event left.”
“No—” He nodded. “It’s okay, please don’t feel bad,” he assured. Another reminder that he was earnest, that he had a good heart. “If you don’t feel well, I want you to be able to take care of yourself. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Okay.” Already, I felt lighter. Seven seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, too.
The evening left a wetness on the black pavement and a chill that emitted a dense fog.
Seven placed his suit jacket promptly over my shoulders to keep me warm.
While we walked, he told me how much fun he’d had, even if it was for a small amount of time, and he wanted to know if there was anything he could get me to help me feel better.
He even offered to watch a movie with me once we returned.
I told him I was fine, and as we approached his car, he patted down his pockets in a frenzy, realizing he was missing something. “What is it?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, mumbled an expletive. “God,” Seven breathed, and he looked to the building. The stillness of the night was long and thin like a silk web. “I think I left my keys with Jak. I’ll have to go back inside and get them.”
Oh. “I can go with you. I don’t mind.”
“No, I’ll be quick. Swear. I don’t want you to make the extra trip if you don’t have to— especially since you’re not feeling too well.
” I bit down on my teeth, so annoyed with myself for that lie.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, and I let him go.
He ran, and seeing him run alleviated some of my fear.
He was fast, much faster on the field. He’d return in no time.
Deep breath out, and I tried to remain calm while I leaned against his Mercedes. It will be fine, I thought, crossing my arms against my chest.
A tap of my heel against the asphalt. The night felt like a void, no crooning of bugs or whispers of wind. Even the stars seemed muted, dulled out somehow—that was, except for the moon.
It was large and distinguished. A red tint made it appear as though it’d been dipped in thick blood. Almost identical to an image I’d seen once … one that was pinned to the center of Bobby’s wall.
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my bag to coincidentally find that Bobby was calling. My chest tightened, fingers fumbled to answer. Bobby only called in moments of urgency. This could mean he discovered a break in the case, or perhaps it was something more detrimental.
Upon answering, the call dropped. Simultaneously, I sensed a break in the stillness. Something moved nearby. I glanced slowly around the lot, looking for the source. There was only fog caressing the hoods of cars, the trunks of trees.
I called Bobby. While the line rang, I heard a heavy thud.
Then, the quick pace of shoes slapping against the pavement.
My body stiffened, and I recoiled into myself, squeezing my phone tightly, hoping the ring, ring, ring, would turn into the sound of my dad’s voice on the other side.
But it went to voicemail, and as I looked and looked into the shadows and between the cars, I couldn’t see anything.
Could only hear something coming closer and faster.
Could only feel my breathing accelerate.
My heart raced as I tucked my phone into my bag. A voice in my head told me to run, to go, to not look back.
But in the night, a boy I’d seen before was coming toward me at full speed with his brows low and a maleficent sneer painted on his face.