Once in a Full Moon(69)

“I don’t want to. You’ll be all alone.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” he said.

“I’ll have my phone with me at all times,” I assured him. “Please call me.”

“See you in the morning,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll still be here.”

I drove off down the long driveway. My stomach felt hollow, leaving Brandon all alone locked away in his room. It was one thing when he was hidden away in the woods. But to me, this was worse.

My true love was jailed—by his condition and by his own free will.





Chapter Twenty-eight

The Wolf Whisperer



The next few nights I continued to secure Brandon at sunset and free him in the morning before school. As much as I hated for him to be locked away, I did enjoy waking up, rushing over to Riverside, and seeing him first thing in the morning. He was always so gorgeous. His hair was messy like a model’s, and his eyes always glistened like the moon. I had never woken up so happy in my life.

At night, though, it was different. I felt a huge pain in my soul whenever Brandon closed his door. My friends insisted I attend the basketball games or go out with them and Nash. I had to admit I was torn. There was nothing I enjoyed more than being with my friends except for one thing—being with Brandon. And if Brandon hadn’t entered the picture, I’m sure I’d still be content sipping hot chocolate on the bleachers with my friends and watching the basketball being passed back and forth by the hot athletes at Legend’s Run High. Nash being interested in me was flattering. But now I saw another side of Legend’s Run that no other Eastsider saw. And it—or, rather, he—was hard to forget.

I didn’t know how I was ever going to tell my best friends I favored a fingerless-glove-wearing Westsider over their best friend, a popular all-star. Not only would I be disappointing the two girls who mattered most to me, but I’d be upsetting the balance of popularity that they strove so hard to achieve.

But Brandon’s plan was working and he seemed pleased with the results: The werewolf spottings decreased immediately.

I wondered if he’d have to be locked away inside his guesthouse forever.

One morning after I opened Brandon’s door, I noticed several dogs snooping around the grass by the birdbath. One was a golden retriever.

“I didn’t know your grandparents had so many dogs,” I said. “I only saw the husky in the window.”

“They don’t. We only have one dog.”

“But there’s, like, three over there by the birdbath. And one looks just like Pumpkin, Abby’s dog that’s missing.”

“You think it might be?” Brandon asked. “My grandma was telling me she keeps finding stray dogs in the yard.”

I walked behind the main house and noticed a white terrier, a Great Dane, a poodle, and several mutts scurrying around, barking and playing.

I raced over to the golden retriever and examined the dog’s left ear. Behind some dirt and a few pieces of brush was a white circle. “This is Pumpkin. She has a white mark on her ear!”

“I don’t know where they came from, but they are always here in the morning. Every few days a new dog. My grandmother has already called a few owners and they’ve come for them. But a few days later, new ones arrive. If they don’t have tags, we’ve been taking care of them. But it’s been weird. I feel like they are . . .”

“Following you?” I asked. “Like the wolves?”

He smiled as he looked at his brood of furry admirers.

“I knew you weren’t destroying people’s pets. Instead you were taking caring of them.”

Brandon beamed.

“I can’t believe this, Brandon! You found Pumpkin!” I petted my friend’s dog and snuggled her cute canine face against mine. “She’s been missing for a week. We posted signs all over town.”

“All over town? I didn’t see any.”

“Well, along the Eastside.” I felt ashamed. “I think we’ve learned a lesson here. But I have to tell Abby!” I said excitedly. I pulled my phone out from my purse and called my friend.

“Guess who I have?” I asked in a playful tone.

“I don’t know,” Abby said in a groggy voice. “It’s too early for jokes.”

“It starts with a P,” I hinted.

There was silence on the other end.

I took a picture of Pumpkin and sent it to Abby’s phone. I could almost hear her screams coming from the east side of town.

When I arrived at English class, Abby came in and gave me another hug. She’d been squeezing me all morning long, and since she was so toned, I was starting to cave in.