Silver Moon

Amazon

"Werewolf," he muttered. "You're a werewolf." 

"Ding, ding, ding," she drawled sarcastically. "Give that boy a prize." 

Kat moved to his bed and pulled the wooden box from his weapons bag to flip open the top and show him the missing shells. The box had been full when he put it under there and now he knows why it was sticking out from underneath the bed this morning when he returned. 

"Silver is lethal to you guys." Sebastian snatched the box back. "What the hell could you possibly need these for?" 

"For the infected wolf in the basement," she said. 

"Infected?" he asked. 

"A wolf not like me," she said. "Rabid, monster, they're the kinds of wolves you hunt and we hate." 

"I see no difference," he snarled. 

"And that right there is why you don't belong here," she said. "I'm out of here, hunters are so stubborn you're not going to listen to me anyway. So I won't even bother wasting my breath." 

Sebastian moved to block the doorknob. "Who said you were leaving?" 

"I did," she snarled. "People here actually care about me! They will skin you alive if I suddenly go missing. Derek knows about us ..." 

"US!" he snapped. "Sorry Cujo but there is no us." 

Kat scoffed and shook her head. "You are all class Sebastian. This is why we don't associate with hunters, small-minded assholes that only care about killing me and mine. Now let me go or I will scream! Maggie will call Derek and he will very much enjoy tearing you limb from limb." 

Sebastian considered his options but could only think of one that made sense at the moment. So he stepped aside and opened the door to let her leave. She's right if she and Derek are werewolves then there are definitely more of them in this town. Werewolves tend to run in packs and they're incredibly territorial, if he took on one of them he'd be taking on all of them and he wouldn't even limp away from that fight.

An Excerpt!

Amelia kept vigil at the window late into the night and soon fell asleep there. I had to move my sister from her spot in the window seat to her own room down the hall, as I’ve done many times before. Amelia has always been tiny, which is why she gets tossed in the air during basketball games, but to me she’s always just been my baby sister that I need to protect.

Gently placing her in her bed I make sure to pull the covers up around her shoulders and shut the door as I leave. It was on the return trip to my own room I heard my father come home, my mother waiting at the door for him; they spoke in hushed tones that only I could hear. I chose to remain hidden behind the wall and not go out onto the landing

“It was another,” dad says calmly, his tone tinged with sadness and anger.

“What?” mom gasps quietly. “Who? How?”

“I don’t know,” dad replies. “But I’m going to find out.”

“I don’t understand I thought there were precautions, protections in place to prevent this,” mom whispers.

They move to the kitchen and I listen; a plate is placed in the microwave and the timer is set. The hum of the appliance makes me refocus; I need to block out the machine and focus on the voices of my parents. In the few moments it took to adjust I missed a few words of their conversation but not much.

“They will not come for us,” dad states. It’s a firm promise to my mother, it’s a promise to protect us but from what I’m not sure. We live in suburbia, nothing happens here but the occasional egging on Halloween and maybe a missing bicycle or two.

“You can’t really promise that anymore though can you? This is the third one this year, Amelia …”

“She’s coming of age I know.” Dad sighs; I can picture him loosening his tie in my mind and slouching in his chair.

“You must protect her,” mom pleads. “I couldn’t stand it if …”

NaNoWriMo

“Marguerite I will not let anything happen to Amelia.” His voice is firm and determined.

The microwave timer alarms making me wince with the sudden piercing in my ears. One of my parents stops the chiming and the plate is moved from the microwave to the table, my father’s leftover dinner.

“I know it’s irrational and I don’t get to keep her forever. But she’s my baby.” Mom’s voice is wavering and my heart goes out to her, my sweet, sweet mother who’s affectionate but rarely cries.

“It’s not irrational Marguerite and I will protect her for you. I will do whatever I can to keep her safe.”

“Thank you.”