Bright Moon by Andria Canayo Page B

put her arm out to keep from falling. She’d
put her seatbelt on, but thought she’d need two with Tyson’s crazy
driving. She heard Callan inhale sharply and his fingers closed
around her arm.
    “Clara, what happened?” he asked as he
fingered the gash she sustained when the wolves attacked. The top
of the wound was visible under the collar of her shirt.
    “Wolves,” she said, assuming he’d been
told.
    “Wolves?” he asked. The cut had healed over
into a nice purple scab. “What do you know about this?” he asked
Tyson, brandishing the wound and nearly tearing her arm from its
socket.
    “No,” Tyson said with a shake of his head.
“That can’t be the same wound.”
    “What do you mean?” she asked. “You tended
to it.”
    Tyson’s brow fell and he leaned closer,
freeing a hand to pull her shirt down at the neckline. “This is
nearly healed. It can’t be the same—”
    “She heals quickly,” Callan pointed out. “My
mom was the same way. Remember that time you broke your arm and the
doctor removed the cast a week later?”
    “It must have been a small fracture, no
doctor would—”
    “No, it wasn’t. I was there. Her arm was
dangling in an odd way and the bone stuck out of her skin.
Actually, I remember thinking it was kind of cool. The doctor said
it was miraculous how quickly she healed, but nobody in the family
was surprised.”
    “You left out how my arm was broken,”
she interjected.
    “That was an accident, I keep telling you it
wasn’t my fault!”
    The response she had ready died when Tyson
jerked the car around. They skidded across four lanes of traffic
and fishtailed when he got it pointed in the opposite direction.
Clara smacked into the door as the car straightened out.
    “What the heck was that about?” Callan
yelled from his position on the floor.
    “You never told me that about Clara.”
    “I never thought it was relevant, I don’t
see how it is now.”
    “I don’t know if it is, but there are too
many coincidences and I think your father has some explaining to
do,” Tyson all but growled.
    “My father ?” Callan practically
yelled and his head reappeared between the seats. “You can’t take
us back! The infected mutts were just near there!”
    “I don’t care, we need to know.”
    “What coincidences?” she asked.
    “People don’t heal that way, that combined
with Parker’s mysterious interest in you has me thinking your
father might know something he needs to share.”
    Callan leaned forward. “What about Mesha…and
Jack? They’re on foot.”
    “We won’t be far behind.”
    “We can’t go back,” Callan muttered. “I’m
not on the best terms with my dad, I told you that.”
    “That was a long time ago, surely he will be
relieved to see you at the very least,” Tyson said.
    “Yeah, he’ll be relieved Clara’s with me.”
Callan sat back and folded his arms over his chest.
    “You aren’t going to lose it are you?” Tyson
was watching him closely in the rearview mirror. Callan shook his
head.
    “No, I think I’m good.”
    “You think ? You need to be sure.”
    “I’m sure,” Callan corrected himself.
    “What do you mean when you say lose
it ? You asked Mesha the same thing,” she wondered.
    “We tend to have tempers,” Tyson informed
her as he watched Callan off and on. “If we let ourselves get too
worked up, the wolf instincts will take over and destruction
ensues. It’s especially hard for a pup like your brother to stay in
control.”
    “A pup?” she twisted in her seat to look at
Callan. He gave her a half grin and rolled his eyes.
    “That’s what we call the ones who’ve
recently become infected and are just learning to control their new
werewolf bodies.”
    “Callan,” she tried to reassure her twin.
“You know dad worried about you, he may have changed, but he still
loves you.”
    “He said he was worried?” Callan
asked pointedly.
    “Well, no. He didn’t have to, I could
tell.”
    He laughed shortly. “Yeah,