Page 132 of Conner's Luna

"The Museum of Nature and Science in Denver," I say smugly as her eyes light up. "I have a private showing with the animal adaptation guy."

"Dr. Reddington?" she breathes ecstatically.

I feel some of my bubble pop. "You already know the animal adaptation guy, don't you?"

"I only met him once," she squeals, launching herself into my arms and planting a kiss on my lips. I kiss her back with one eye out for her father's gun.

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33 - The Storm

Bailey

"You'll pack up tonight, right babe?" Conner kissed me gently again.

"I guess that's the plan," I reply. I'm reluctant to move houses again, even if ultimately this move will be a good one. Dad has been working all day, ironing out the details without giving away our sudden move to Trey's pack, so all of the packing has been left in my hands.

The rest of my Christmas Eve and Christmas morning will be spent sneaking our most important items into my car in the garage.

Alpha Alex told us that no one can get suspicious that we are leaving. That's why he came to our house this morning, alone. Our tree is still up, lights twinkling, in the living room window. I'll gather up photo albums and family heirlooms and stuff them into the trunk of the bluebonnet. The boys can't come over, because all of them crashing here would draw attention. It sucks, but it's clever.

Tomorrow morning, Dad and I will dress up in ugly Christmas sweaters and get into his car with a foil-covered dish of apple pie. The idea is to make sure that everyone thinks we're going back to Durham Falls to visit family for Christmas.

All of our furniture, dishes, everything that I don't squirrel away tonight will be packed and moved later by a human moving company. By the time Trey's pack figures out our absence is permanent, we'll be safely moved into our new house on ClearHowl land.

"And I'll see you tomorrow," Conner murmurs. "Later in the day, when you're settled." Something deep, unknown emotion flits across his face.

Uneasiness moves through me. It's ridiculous, I know, but after the absolute best first date today, Conner is leaving me by myself for what feels like a long time. It's all of twenty-four hours, but my mind can't stop jumping to conclusions. The top of the list is the missing girls, but he would tell me if he was putting himself in danger right?

"I'll miss you, honeygirl," he kisses me again, his hand cupping my nape warmly, the other just at the top of my bottom. He doesn't release me and I don't pull away. Sighing, Conner drops his forehead on mine. "I don't want to go," he admits.

"I have to pack," I tell him because that seems to be the story we're telling each other.

"Yeah," he says despondently. Then, he brightens a little. "So, tomorrow? A new day, right, baby?"

"Yup," I say with my own note of sorrow. Geesh, girl, pull yourself up. Wasn't it me who asked him for space just a few days ago?

Resolute, I kiss him one last time and move inside, shutting the door as he slowly walks backward to his truck, keeping his green eyes on me until he climbs into the cab and shuts the door. I wait while he pulls away, going slower than I've ever seen him drive. I miss him so much that I can't even feel bitter about how easy he makes walking backward look.

I walk into the kitchen, rubbing my arms against the sudden chill. Dad is working late so that he can take tomorrow off. I'll be by myself in the house for hours. I know it's bugged, and being watched, but I can't help but feel as if this is a horror movie cliche waiting to happen. There have been too many crazy, drama-filled days lately for me to feel any other way.

I have a million-and-one things to do, but it seems like it's a better idea to just settle on the back porch for a minute and enjoy the unseasonably warm weather. I take a mug of hot chocolate with me and wrap myself in the thick blanket that Mom knitted for me years ago. Staring into the backyard, I realize that this is the first moment I've had in weeks, maybe months, that I've just held still and done nothing.

Upstairs is all my lab work. I haven't found anything yet, not a single marker or genetic anomaly. Maybe I really should ask Conner if I can test his genes, just to see where the differences lay. Then I can narrow down my own search.

I'll get a couple of more hours of research in before I pack up the machines. The scent of impending rain is in the air. It's something I've always loved. I wonder if that's part of my siren-blood too?

Laughing, I take a sip of my chocolate. All of my fears about Conner's reaction to my voice are gone. Even if I do have some sort of magic in me, he doesn't seem rattled by it at all. His reaction is just as soothing as Mom's blanket to my overworked nerves.

I drift, for what may be hours, as the day winds down and the sounds of the waning day begin. I only jerk back to reality when thunder rumbles ominously in the distance.

A drop of cold rain hits my nose just as I take another sip of my cooled-off hot chocolate. I stand up and gather up the blanket, and the skies open up. I hurry inside and close the door, locking it securely behind me. Mom's blanket is damp, so I spread it out over the back of the couch, then walk back into the kitchen to re-heat my hot chocolate. I'll have to remember to pack the blanket later.

Rain is lashing the windows as the skies darken. Sheets of water pour down and I can see the gutters overflowing already. I used to be able to hear the raindrops pounding on the roof at our old house in Durham, but this one must be better insulated because the noise is softened. I open the window, just a crack, to enjoy the sounds and smell, just as thunder cracks and lightning flashes.

More thunder pulls me away from staring at nature's fury. I see a flash in the dark, something moving fluidly through the storm. I feel unease creep over me again. I am all alone in the house. Is this one of the sentinels from ClearHowl who is protecting me, or am I truly all alone tonight except for whatever or whoever is out there in the storm?

Like a perfect cliche, the lights blink once, then out they go.

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