Page 104 of Fool Moon First Aid

Am I okay? Heck no, but it’s not like I can say that out loud.

I swing my head, sniffing the air for clues to our location. The scent of food trucks, tantalizing and out of place, tells me we’re too close to town for comfort. My childhood home, that’s in the opposite direction. There’s a pull toward the familiar, but then there’s the snag—Mom’s car, abandoned on Merger Ave.

Ignoring Tyler’s protests, I bolt toward town. He barks—a warning or an encouragement? Doesn’t matter. I’m a wolf on a mission. The locals won’t blink at a wolf darting through their streets, but I still stick to the shadows. We’re in the rough part of town, where eyes ignore me, and silence is a survival tactic.

Was this why no one saw what happened to my mom?

Shaking off the thought, I focus on the task at hand. Merger Ave looms ahead, as well as the garage where Mom’s car gathers dust. It’s time for some answers.

I dart across an alley, agility on my side in this form. Tyler growls behind me, a rumble of caution, but my mind’s made up. They pegged my dad as the villain, and honestly? I’m leaning that way too. Time to dig up some proof.

I pause near a porch, scanning for cameras. I have to play it cool and look innocent. Just another curious dog, right? I mimic the motions of a dog doing its business, all while casing the house. Tyler plays along, sitting like he’s waiting for a treat, though his look says he thinks I’ve lost my mind.

I sniff around, a barrage of scents hitting me like a truck. Old grass, gasoline, rotting trash—it’s a sensory overload, but then, there it is, the familiar scent cutting through the mess. I follow it, slipping through a broken fence slat and into a neglected space between houses, where water drips onto a trash can lid and pizza boxes decay.

Ignoring the front gate, I head toward a basement window, the scent now unmistakable. I whine softly, pawing at the broken window—a signal to Tyler. I sniff again, the scent stronger, beckoning from the basement.

It’s a risky move, diving headfirst into the unknown, but I’ve put off finding answers for so long that I can’t look away anymore.

I swear Tyler rolls his eyes at me, then he shifts. Crouching at the window, he gives me a look that’s both amused and incredulous. “You know, I hadn’t penciled in breaking and entering as part of our date night, but I’m not complaining.” He jimmies the window open, propping it up. “We should fit. This is larger than your average basement window.”

Relief floods through me. I’m thankful for his support. Shifting back to my human form proves more challenging than before, sparking a brief flare of panic before I manage it. I land in the dirty alley off Merger Avenue with a disgruntled huff.

“There you are, butterfly,” Tyler teases, a note of pride in his voice.

Determined, I move to shimmy down the window, only for Tyler to pull me back. “Let me check that it’s safe first.”

I nod, allowing him to play the protective wolf. “After you.”

He mutters something about the hazards of navigating broken glass, and I stifle a laugh, watching as he carefully clears a path before descending into the darkness.

“You’re lucky I didn’t scent anyone down here,” he cautions as he disappears inside.

Admittedly, I hadn’t even considered the presence of others. Oops. Following his lead, I carefully slide in, Tyler’s steady hand guiding me the last few steps into the basement. The familiar scent that’s been teasing my senses grows stronger.

“No cameras,” Tyler whispers in the dim light.

As my eyes adjust, a seemingly normal basement unfolds before us. The window overlooks a bar, its wooden surface worn down. To the right is a woodstove, and beyond that is a cozy seating area, but the basement is divided, a separate room secluded by the layout.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for a while,” Tyler observes, drawing a line through the dust on the bar, showcasing the thick layer.

I’m drawn to the peculiar room partitioning the basement. “There’s a familiar scent here…but I can’t place it,” I confess, moving cautiously across the cold wooden floor toward the mystery room.

Tyler, meanwhile, rummages behind the bar, his fingers dancing over the shelves. “What does it remind you of?” he calls out.

Shrugging, I reply, “I’m not sure. It’s just…familiar.” Reaching the pocket door, I slide it open and freeze. My brain struggles to process the sight before me, my breath hitching.

“What’s wrong—” Tyler starts, but his words cut off as he pulls me close. “By the fates,” he murmurs, horror lacing his whisper. “We aren’t safe here.”

“No, I need to understand,” I whisper, struggling for air. “What… What am I seeing, Tyler?”

His eyes, filled with tears, meet mine. “Ava, it’s a cage for shifters.”

I nod, a lump forming in my throat. The room, barely ten by twelve feet, houses nothing but metal bars embedded in the concrete, a crude toilet hole, and scattered blankets. Chains and a broken collar lie on the floor—a testament to the terror that unfolded here.

Driven by a need to know yet dreading the truth, I inch closer, the familiar scent now overpowering. “Tyler,” I whisper, stepping into the grim room.

“Ava,” he shouts, “silver bars. Don’t touch anything.”

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