Weeping Moon Page 14

  “There’s a curse you don’t know about. Its symbols are hiding out in the original site for Fort Wayward.”

  “The forest isn’t anywhere near there, dear,” Sophia placated.

  “But it draws these kinds of things to it. I think that’s what’s been tainting the forest. Energy powering energy. And all the death on that road-”

  “Nicole, you’re babbling,” Daniel said.

  Nicole stammered as her conflicting emotions battered against the untested knowledge in her head. Without looking, Benton reached back and wrapped his hand around Nicole’s wrist, offering what little encouragement he could without making the situation worse for her.

  “The forest is absorbing the dead,” she snapped, each word coming out sharper than a scalpel’s edge. “They’re melding together and mutating the spirits. There’s nothing natural about what’s happening. Go, and you’ll feel it yourself. The land is sick, and the infection is spreading. The old settlement. The Bertrand property. It’s getting closer to town. Sending the Pontianak there is like throwing gasoline on a fire.”

  “And that’s your learned opinion?” Daniel asked after a long pause. “From, what, not even a year of contact with the other world?”

  “Still more practical knowledge than you’ve ever had,” Benton replied.

  “It’s easy to pass judgment when you don’t have to offer suggestions.”

  “It’s easy to make dumb plans when you’re not the one that has to follow them through,” Benton replied.

  “No one has asked you to be a part of this!”

  “That’s because we’ve been the ones handling it! You’ve just been tagging along!”

  “We’ll put it to a vote, then,” Wapun cut in, her voice leaving no room for argument. “All in favor of moving the Pontianak to Highway 43?”

  The fabric of Benton’s hood ripped under Nicole’s tightening grip as, one by one, the Elders lifted their hands.

  Chapter 15

  “We can’t let them do this!” Nicole shrieked as she followed her mother.

  The Elders had already dispersed, each returning to their own R.V. to collect whatever items might be necessary.

  “Nicole, I don’t have time for this,” Dorothy dismissed as she stalked through the tents. “The Auclairs are struggling with what happened to Adam, and the Bertrands need constant supervision.”

  “Mom, will you listen to me, please,” Nicole pleaded.

  Dorothy stopped short and turned to her daughter. “The decision is out of my hands.”

  “Well, drag it back into your hands. You’re the police. Surely you have some kind of authority.”

  Dorothy raked both hands through her hair. “For once, just this once, can you trust that other people know what they’re doing and let it go? Can you do that for me? Let it go?”

  “I have no idea what you’re even saying right now,” Nicole said, honestly perplexed.

  “Okay, how’s this? You’re not having any part of this. You’re benched.”

  “What?” Nicole squealed. “You can’t do that!”

  “It’s done. You’re out. Go back to your teepee and stay there until I say otherwise.”

  “They can’t do this without us,” Nicole said. “Well, Benton mostly. But he won’t do it without me.”

  Both women looked at him, and he shrugged in agreement.

  “Mom, we can’t let them do this.”

  Dorothy took a step away then quickly jerked back. “Why are you like this?”

  “Because dad taught me to fight for those who can’t. And you taught me to do what’s right no matter what the cost.” Losing a bit of her fight, she squirmed slightly. “So, when you think about it, this is all your fault.”

  “She’s got you there,” Benton noted.

  Both Rider women turned to him.

  “What? It’s a compliment.”

  “Aw, thanks,” Nicole cooed.

  Dorothy tried to walk away while her daughter was distracted. Nicole quickly grabbed her arm.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “You. Teepee. Now.”

  “Mom-”

  “You’re teenagers,” she snapped. “Just kids. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”

  “Teenagers have been going to war since the beginning of time.”

  “None of them were my daughter!” Dorothy quickly got herself under control, remaining silent until everyone who had noticed the outburst had lost interest.

  “I love you, mom.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Nicole hugged her mother tight. “Please don’t make me go behind your back. It always makes me feel sick.”

  Resting her chin on the top of Nicole’s head, she huffed, torn between frustration and amusement. Benton shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to blend into the background, wanting them to have this moment undisturbed. While he never intended to cause problems between them, his existence alone had strained their relationship.

  “Are you certain of what you saw in the woods?” Dorothy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Go to the teepee, and I’ll talk to the Elders,” Dorothy said reluctantly.

  “But-”

  “Daniel’s almost as spiteful as Benton,” Dorothy cut in.

  Benton huffed with indignation but didn’t comment.

  “Now that he’s got his shackles up, he’d hold his ground just to prove a point. Let me take a run at him when you two aren’t around. Just let me handle it, Nicole.”

  “Thanks, Dorothy,” Benton said.

  Feeling like a jerk, he reached out and tapped a knuckle against Nicole’s arm. She still didn’t let go of her mother.

  “Come on. We need to let her get to work,” he said.

  “Right,” she said while tightening her grip around her mother’s waist.

  Dorothy was torn between welcoming her daughter’s embrace and doing her duty. She looked to Benton, and he sighed.

  “Hey, Nic. My old dance academy’s website still has pictures of me on it.”

  That got her attention. She perked, watching him carefully. Like she was a mongoose, and he a snake, and she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to get into a fight.

  “Dance Academy?” Dorothy asked.

  “He was a ballerina.”

  Dorothy caught on instantly and grinned. “Find that photo.”

  “I know you’re both just trying to distract me, and I’m not going to fall for it,” she said. “The moment I find that website, I’m going to find you, mom. If Daniel’s not on board, I’ll take over. Love you!”

  Benton twisted his shoulders to keep Nicole from barging into him as she sprinted back for the laptop. He watched her go for a moment.

  “Obsessive tendencies are a double-edged sword,” Dorothy noted wistfully. “Thanks.”

  “You owe me,” Benton grumbled.

  “Take care of my girl.”

  Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he jumped his shoulders. “I always try to.”

  He had barely taken a step to follow Nicole when a scream cut through the relative calm. Jerking around, he spotted his parents barreling towards them.

  “Oh no,” he muttered.

  Looking to Dorothy for help, he noticed her shoulders stiffen.

  “Head’s up,” she said, motioning with her chin to Daniel.

  The Elder must have noticed the Bertrands and was storming over with fury in his eyes. Nicole tried to cut him off, but the old man didn’t hesitate for a second.

  “Benton, we’re going home,” Cheyanne snapped.

  “Are you his parents?” Daniel’s snarl covered Benton’s response.

  Theodore and Cheyanne knew that tone. Instantly, they closed ranks and picked up their pace.

  “Who are you?” Theodore asked.

  “Daniel Long Fisher. I’m an Elder here. Is that your boy?”

  “Back off,” Benton said.

  He would have been better off throwing a match on a keg of gunpowder. The older ma
n didn’t hesitate to start on his tirade, hurling out each word to try and inflict the maximum amount of pain possible. Theodore gripped Benton’s arm, wrenching him back as the furious man closed the last of the distance. Cheyanne was quick to give as good as she got. As the argument grew louder, the conversation turned from complaints to insults and threats. Dorothy tried to keep the peace, but no one was hearing it.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” Cheyanne hissed. “Stay away from my son!”

  “Your monster! Were you the one that taught your boy to play with the dead? Or was it your husband?”

  “What are you talking about?” Cheyanne snapped.

  “Benton, get in the car,” Theodore ordered.

  “Which one of you did he get it from?”

  Daniel repeated the demand as Nicole tried to edge him back.

  “They brought all this death and madness into our town! Now they have to answer for it!”

  “We don’t owe you anything, you maniac!” Theodore roared.

  “You raised him this way!”

  “We’ve done nothing wrong,” Cheyanne charged forward, only stopping when she struck Dorothy’s outstretched hand.

  “You’re his mother! Who else is there to blame for this abomination? It’s your genetics!”

  “Not mine!”

  Shock seized Benton’s insides. It disemboweled him when he saw the panicked looks Cheyanne threw to her husband. Theodore stood aghast, unmoving, eyes accusing and sympathetic at the same time. Silence lingered over them. Crushed them. Chasing away any doubt that could have shrouded the meaning of Cheyanne’s words.

  Benton’s mouth worked numbly around the question, “I’m adopted?”

  “Benton,” Cheyanne whispered helplessly.

  Theodore softened his grip on Benton’s arm even as he began to tug, “It’s time to go home.”

  Benton locked his wide gaze onto his father. “Am I adopted?”

  Both of his parents refused to answer.

  “Oh, my God.” Benton couldn’t breathe. His vision blurred. “Oh, my God.”

  “It’s complicated,” Cheyanne said.

  She took a step towards Benton, and he jerked back.

  “Complicated? How is it complicated?”

  “We didn’t know,” Theodore replied. “It was a mix-up. A huge mistake.”

  “I’m a mistake?”

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Theodore rushed.

  “We didn’t know, is what he means,” Cheyanne said, once again attempting to close the distance between them.

  Benton wrenched his arm free of Theodore to retreat a little further.

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Not until after your accident. When you needed a blood transfusion,” she rushed. “We always knew that you had a rare blood type. AB Negative.” She said it almost wistfully. Swallowing thickly, she continued, “I’m A Positive. Theo’s O Negative. We didn’t know until that day that it was impossible for us to have had you.”

  “I was ten,” Benton said. “You’ve known for years and haven’t said anything?”

  “We didn’t know if you could handle it. It almost destroyed us,” Cheyanne said, turning beseeching eyes onto Theodore.

  “We can talk about this at home.”

  Benton flung himself away from Theodore’s touch. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  “Benton-,” he tried again.

  This time, Nicole stepped in-between them, protectively shielding Benton from the outstretched hand.

  “This has nothing to do with you, Ms. Rider,” Cheyanne snapped.

  “All this time, you let me think that I was insane,” Benton said, using Nicole as a human shield without a hint of shame. “How could you keep this from me? It could change everything!”

  “What could it possibly change?”

  “I could know why I am the way I am!” Benton shouted.

  “You’re the way you are because you have a brain injury,” Cheyanne surged forward. “You were attacked. It damaged your brain. You now have nightmares. That’s all there is to it, Benton.”

  “I’m a Banshee.” He hadn’t intended for the words to come out. They were just hovering between them before he knew his lips were moving.

  “What?” Theodore gasped, his eyes closing in surprise. “Benton, no, you’re not. And you need to come home now.”

  “I had my dreams before I was ever attacked.” He stressed the word they always danced around. Not an accident or a mishap or an incident. I was hunted and almost killed. “I’m not human. I’m something else.”

  Cheyanne locked her eyes onto Nicole. “What have you been filling his head with?”

  “This is enough. We’re going.” Theodore lunged once again for him.

  Benton easily avoided his grasp. “No.”

  “Be reasonable,” Theodore sighed wearily. “You have no money. No friends. No other relatives. No form of transportation. Benton, son, you have nowhere else to go.”

  The words didn’t have time to hurt.

  “He can stay with us,” Nicole said.

  Dorothy instantly stepped in to defuse Cheyanne’s mounting rage. “Just for a few days. I think it’ll be best for everyone.”

  Theodore’s jaw dropped. “You’re taking our son?”

  “I’m offering him a safe place to stay until everyone calms down,” Dorothy corrected.

  “I don’t need to calm down!” Cheyanne said.

  “Look at what you’ve just said to your son.”

  Benton couldn’t take another second. Snatching up Nicole’s hand, he stalked away. A few cries followed him. Half angry, half wounded. He didn’t look back.

  “Benton?” Nicole asked.

  He tightened his fingers and kept walking.

  “Benton?” she repeated again a heartbeat later. “Benton?”

  “You’ve got your jeep keys on you, right?”

  “No, they’re in the teepee.”

  Grumbling, he swung to the side, hurrying over. “We get them and the stuff Wapun used for the blessing. Then we get the hell out of here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to trap the Pontianak in my barn. Let’s see them ignore that.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Hey, if you can think up a better way to get those two morons to see the truth, I’m all ears.”

  Picking up his pace forced Nicole into a jog. It drew a few odd looks, but he barely saw them. White hot static filled his head, burned along his nerves, stoked his rage and kept him just on the verge of a panic attack. He felt like a piano wire pulled tautly. A threat to himself and anyone else who got too close. Even knowing this, he couldn’t let go of Nicole’s hand.

  “All I’m saying is that you might not want to make these kinds of decisions based on spite,” she said.

  “Since I’m constructed of equal parts spite, sarcasm, and caffeine, I don’t really have much of a choice.” Stopping abruptly, he finally met her gaze. The tender sympathy he found there made tears burn the back of his eyes. “This is an insane kneejerk reaction, isn’t it?”

  “Yep,” she said. “It’s basically elaborate suicide.”

  He deflated. “You don’t have to come with me.”

  “Nah, I’m in,” she chirped. “You get the keys from the front pocket of my backpack, I’ll sneak Wapun’s stuff, we’ll meet back on the edge of the parking lot.”

  Without waiting for a response, she jogged off towards the rows of RVs, leaving Benton to stare after her in amazement.

  I’m not crazy. She might be, though.

  Chapter 16

  Nicole smiled gratefully up at Benton. It was a little insulting that she hadn’t counted on him thinking far enough ahead to bring the bag itself. She dumped the assorted items into her backpack and zipped it up.

  “For the record, I’ve never done the blessing myself,” she told him. “I did manage to get her to write it down for me, though.”

  “Ho
w did you pull that one off?”

  “Mostly playing on her guilt.”

  “And the other part consisted of being really annoying until she just wanted you to go away?”

  She looked a little sheepish. “Maybe.”

  “That’s my girl,” he grinned.

  Her mood brightened instantly. “So, have you thought up any more details for your plan?”

  “It’s baffled by me. We tick it off, run, and hope we get to the barn in time.”

  “Keeping it simple,” she said. “I like it.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I’m a little on edge, but we’re all trying new things today.” She flipped the keys around in her hand, toying one finger over the metal as if testing that it was real. “How do we tick it off?”

  “Throw rocks at its nest?” he suggested.

  She shook her head. “Then we have to run back through the undergrowth. She’s too quick. I want to be in the jeep.”

  “Try and get some of the owls to attack her nest?”

  “Better,” she smiled. “Jeep first.”

  Having the few extra seconds to stretch out his legs was a luxury. One he took great advantage of. It was cut short soon enough when he heard the array of voices closing in around them. The Elders can move quickly when they want to.

  Exchanging a quick glance at each other, they both burst forward, racing down the small trail back to the parking lot. Everything was different now. Down to the very core of his identity. He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the burn in his lungs and the mint green jeep in the distance. While they had replaced the windows, the bodywork had been left riddled with dents and scrapes. Gravel crunched under his sneakers, and the heavy thumps aggravated the dozens of cuts on the bottom of his feet.

  He ignored it all.

  Finally, they reached the jeep. Nicole opened the doors swiftly, allowing him to leap in, shoving the backpack down by his feet. They slammed the doors shut and hurriedly locked them again.

  “Okay,” Nicole panted. “So, now the birds.”

  Glancing over at Benton, she screamed. By the time he managed to twist around, the ghostly figure had already moved on, drifting up from his window and out of sight. Her journey was marked by the high-pitched whine of her nails across the metal roof.