Page 6 of The Hunting Moon
“More water?” she offers, but Darian shakes his head. And for the first time since arriving, he seems to notice that Winnie isn’t looking so great herself.
“Funeral,” he says, smacking his forehead. “I’m such a jerk. How did the funeral go?”
“Not great,” she admits, and she finds her fingers grabbing for her locket… then releasing because the locket brushes too closely to her own mental compartment markedDAD. It’s a box she has kept closed for eight days, ever since cracking his secret message:I was framed.She is absolutely not about to open it here.
“Did you know Grayson?” she asks, adding an extra padlock to the box.
“Yeah,” Darian replies, brow wrinkling with a frown. “Though only as much as personcouldknow Grayson Friday.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he was popular.”
“And you weren’t?”
“No.” Darian flashes a glare. “I mean,yes,I was quite popular, thank you… until… you know. The incident.”
Winnie does know; she also knows that Darian wasn’t popular. At least not like Grayson Friday was. Darian had friends and was generally liked, but he wasn’t the life of the party—and certainly not the one hosting the parties every night of the week.
“Grayson knew everyone,” Darian continues, “and everyone knew Grayson. Except no one reallyknewGrayson, if that makes sense. He joked a lot. Was nice to people unless they were a teacher. And he partied or pranked pretty much every night of the week. But I couldn’t tell you anything more about him. He was a hard person to describe, and at the end of the day, I don’t think anyonereallyknew him. And now…” A bob of one shoulder. “No one will.”
“No one will,” Winnie repeats, half sigh, half invocation, as if such words will somehow make his ashes sink faster inside the lake.
Darian reaches across the table to grab Winnie’s hands, and when Winnie meets his eyes, she sees the slightest gloss has gathered over them. “I’m glad you’re not hunting yet, Win. We almost lost you once, and that was more than enough.”
“Yeah,” Winnie says, praying he isn’t about to say what Mom said. That he isn’t about to add more grenade shrapnel to her heart…
But then it comes. Because of course it does. Darian has always beenskeptical about the Whisperer’s existence, even if he has never directly declared this to her.
“I know it’s been chaos getting the tests coordinated, but I promise we’ll catch that monster soon. Tuesday Alphas are combing the forest constantly, we’ve got double the hunter numbers at night, and the testing site by the pier should be ready to go in the next day or two.”
Darian gives a reassuring squeeze before finally releasing Winnie’s hands and leaning back. He doesn’t seem to notice that his sister has turned as immobile as a statue before him.
“We’ll be coming to the Sunday estate to test you and all the other students directly, and honestly, it should only be a matter of days before we have this werewolf cornered. It can’t run forever. It isgoingto pay for what it did to you and Grayson and—”
Darian’s phone rings, interrupting him as his voice is rising and his face is flushing with uncharacteristic fury—fury Winnie knows is on her behalf because as far as he believes, this werewolf almost ended her life.
A small part of Winnie appreciates that fire. A larger part, though, just wants some blessed relief. A heart can’t survive with this much shrapnel in it.
“Crap,” Darian says once he finally has his phone fumbled free and can read the caller ID. “I have to take this. I’ll see you later, okay, Win? Be good.” He pushes to his feet, already swiping the phone to life. “Yes, Dryden, what is it?” He briefly crooks over to give Winnie a kiss on the top of her head. It’s a surprising and uncommon show of affection for their family.
He’s been doing a lot of that since she left the hospital, and Winnie wishes it made her feel better. She wishes the grenade’s blast radius hadn’t been quite so wide.
Darian leaves Joe Squared with a distracted wave. Winnie doesn’t wave back.
Several minutes after Darian’s departure, as Winnie is dropping her mug of now brownish-green slush into a bin near the counter, Jo steps up beside her. “What’d you think of it?”
“No,” Winnie says. It’s a little breathy. She wags her head. “No.”
Jo cringes. “More noodling?”
“No.”Winnie shoves her glasses up her nose. “No more noodling, please. I don’t like fancy drinks or whipped cream. I just wanted a black coffee.”
Jo nods thoughtfully. “Okay, okay. I think I hear what you’re laying down.” She snaps her fingers. “I’ve got it! How about we name a cup of drip coffee the Winnie and it can be half off on Wednesdays?”
Winnie’s posture slumps. She sighs. At this point, everyone in Hemlock Falls might as well have cotton stuffed in their ears for all they listen to her. And after her encounter with Darian just now, Winnie is too defeated to keep fighting. “Sure,” she says. “Let’s call it the Winnie. Half off on Wednesdays.”
“Excellent.” Jo grins. “Oh, and hey,” she adds at Winnie’s now-departing back. “You can have all Winnies for free! Your mom and your brother too!”
