Chapter 13: The New Moon
992 Words
The night before the new moon, Leo had a nightmare.
Aurora heard him before he fully woke, the particular sound he made that was not quite crying and not quite calling out, somewhere between the two. She was in his room before she was fully conscious herself, sitting on the edge of the cot, her hand on his back.
"Hey. It's okay. I'm here."
He surfaced slowly. When he opened his eyes he looked around the room, processing his location, and then found her face and relaxed incrementally.
"There were red eyes," he said.
"It was a dream."
"I know." He sat up. "But they were loud."
"Dreams are like that sometimes."
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "Is tomorrow the dangerous day?"
She had not told him specifically about the new moon timeline. She had been careful about what reached his ears. She looked at him, at the serious small face and the silver mark on his neck, and decided that he was five years old and he had already earned honesty.
"Some people might come tomorrow who shouldn't be here," she said. "Damon and his people are going to make sure they can't get through. We'll be safe inside."
"Why do they want to come?"
"Because they're scared of what you might become when you're grown up. People sometimes try to stop things they're scared of before they have a chance to happen."
Leo thought about this. "That's not very fair."
"No. It isn't."
"Will Damon be okay?"
"Yes," she said. She believed it.
"Okay." He lay back down. "Can you stay until I fall asleep?"
"Yes."
She sat on the edge of the cot with her hand on his back until his breathing changed to the deep rhythm of sleep. Then she stayed a little longer.
The next morning was quiet in the way that the air before a storm was quiet, not peaceful, but gathered. The household moved with efficiency. Nadia coordinated with the security team. Two additional pack members Aurora hadn't met before arrived and were directed to positions around the exterior. Mrs. Caldwell made breakfast without commenting on any of it, which Aurora thought was either remarkable self-discipline or remarkable trust in how things would unfold.
Damon found Aurora in the library at nine.
"The perimeter is set," he said. "We have people positioned from the gate to the north wall. The council has authorized a formal response if they breach." He paused. "I want you and Leo to stay in the interior rooms from noon onward."
"I understand."
"Aurora."
She looked at him.
"I need to be outside tonight. Leading this personally. I know that's not what you want to hear."
"I know it's necessary."
"But."
"But nothing. I understand. Just." She paused. "Come back."
Something crossed his face. "Yes," he said. Simply.
The afternoon moved slowly. Leo occupied himself with his building blocks and a running commentary about what he was constructing, which had started as a house and evolved through several revisions into something he described as a fortress with a garden. Aurora read without retaining much and checked in with Leo every hour and tried not to listen to the sounds from the outer parts of the house.
At nine in the evening, when Leo was asleep, she heard them.
Not inside the house. Outside. Sounds that cut through the stone walls and the reinforced windows, sounds that she recognized from the street three nights ago even though she had been hoping she would never recognize them again.
Growls. The low percussion of transformation. The particular crash of bodies meeting that had no civilian equivalent.
She sat in the chair in Leo's room and put her hand on his back again, the same hand, the same motion, and listened to the fight happening outside the walls.
It went on for a long time.
She did not sleep.
At some point in the deep hours of the night, the sounds stopped.
The silence was total.
She waited.
At two-thirteen in the morning, she heard the front door of the mansion open.
She heard Nadia's voice, brief and clear: "It's done."
And then Damon's voice, lower, responding, and she couldn't make out the words but the tone of it was controlled and tired and intact, and she put both hands over her face and breathed.
Leo stirred. "Mommy?"
"Go back to sleep, baby."
"Is it over?"
"Yes."
"Good." He turned over and went back to sleep with the efficiency only children possessed.
Aurora sat in the dark chair in the dark room for another twenty minutes.
Then she got up, went into the hallway, and found Damon standing at the end of the corridor. He was still in his tactical clothes, dark and practical. There was a cut above his eyebrow that had mostly stopped bleeding. He looked, overall, like a man who had been in a significant fight and was still standing, which was, she told herself, the best possible outcome.
She walked to him and put her hand against his face, the same way she had in the garden the night of dinner. Just for a moment.
He covered her hand with his.
"Reyes?" she said.
"In custody. The council will deal with him formally."
"And his coalition?"
"Collapsed without him. Smaller packs are already communicating through back channels. They want to negotiate, not continue."
She exhaled.
"It's not fully over," he said. "There will be a process. But the immediate threat is resolved."
"Okay."
"Go sleep."
"You should too."
"In a while." He looked at her with those silver eyes, still silver, always silver. "You did well. Staying calm. Keeping him calm."
"He kept himself calm. He's five and he's steadier than most adults I know."
"He gets that from someone."
She wasn't sure which of them he meant. She suspected both.
She went back to her room and lay down in her clothes and was asleep within three minutes.
- Writer
