Page 108 of Fool Moon First Aid

Tears stream down my face again, and I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the last file in the pile. It contains my father’s plans for the future—a detailed strategy for targeting and eradicating supernaturals through chilling “cleansing” operations set to occur soon. My heart aches and burns for all those we’ve lost and all those we stand to lose.

A knock on the door jolts me from my spiral of despair. Rising, I swipe at the lingering tears and sniffle. “I’m coming,” I call out as the knocking persists.

Opening the door, I find Brody standing there, sheepishly sporting a fresh haircut. He’s dressed in scrubs, stained with what looks like blood, and he’s even wearing Crocs. “Hey,” I say, feeling my heart flutter.

“Are you okay?” Brody asks, sweeping his gaze over the mess that was once Eloise’s apartment.

Guilt washes over me for the hurt I’ve caused. With a deep breath, I admit, “No, I’m really not.” I gesture toward the scattered papers on the table. “It’s these files.”

“Hey,” Brody says, gently taking my hand and intertwining his fingers with mine. He turns me toward him, cradling my face and sending shivers through me with his touch. “I’m not here for the papers or to pry into what you found. I’m here for you, Ava. Just you.”

His words are a balm to my soul. I nod, barely managing a whispered, “Okay.”

“What are you up to right now?” he asks, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. His touch, warm and incredibly gentle, tempts me to melt into him.

Glancing at the microwave’s blank display, I realize, “Shoot, we lost power last night. I don’t even know what time it is…or what day.”

“Didn’t you see any of our messages?” he inquires, concern etched in his features.

Cheeks flushing, I admit, “No, I?—”

“It’s still in the box, isn’t it?” he guesses, his smile crooked but understanding.

“I just needed to process everything, to take it all in,” I confess, resting my forehead against his chest. He smells like the hospital, but beneath that, he smells like Brody—pine and leather, like home.

I’ve missed him.

“I was hoping you’d check in on Wednesday,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head.

“It’s not even Tuesday,” I reply, wrapping my arms around him, inhaling his comforting scent.

“Ava, sweetheart,” he says, gently pulling me back to look into my eyes, “it’s Friday.”

“What?” My eyes widen in disbelief. “Impossible. There’s no way I missed an entire week. You never stopped in,” I argue, despite me telling them I needed time.

“We wanted to give you the time you asked for.” he admits. “What have you been up to?”

“Eloise is at a conference. She went to New Orleans in my place,” I explain, stepping back and hoping I don’t smell like I’ve been secluded for days. “She left on Monday. Or was it Sunday?” My memory fogs.

“Come on. Put your shoes on,” he instructs, heading toward my phone, which I’ve intentionally left untouched in the box.

“What are we doing?” I yawn but comply, sliding into my sneakers.

“When did you last eat?” he inquires, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Breakfast,” I respond, my brow furrowing. “Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” He raises an eyebrow. “Ava, with your shifter metabolism, you can’t neglect yourself.”

“I’ll explain later,” I say, standing up and approaching the table with renewed determination.

“Later?” Hope colors his tone.

“Yeah,” I answer, looking at the list of names. “We have a lot to talk about.” I gather all the papers and shove them into my old canvas backpack. “Eloise will be away for another week. The clinic was supposed to be closed, so I’m going to let it stay that way.”

“Okay, but—” Brody starts, turning me to face him, my duffle bag in his hand. When I don’t comment, he slings it over his shoulder. “Serious talk later. Driving lessons now, all right?”

“What kind of teacher are you?” I ask, locking up and following him out of Eloise’s building. “Patient or volatile?”

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