Free By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) by Jennifer Hendren

this, concern over whether
I'd put on enough deodorant that morning suddenly at the top of my
list. "But wait—when did he pee his pants?"
    "When I came across you two out at the
drive-in last night."
    I pulled back. "Wait, you remember that?" I
could've died on the spot. Had he witnessed everything?
    He wasn't able to meet my gaze and that
confirmed my fears before he even spoke. "Yes."
    Oh God. My face burst into flames.
"Did you follow me?"
    "Yes." His eyes at last met mine.
    I didn't know what to make of this new
revelation, and couldn't address the implications of it all with
the previous night's events playing on fast forward in my mind. "I
thought you said you couldn't remember anything..."
    He ran a hand through his hair. "It's a long
story." He motioned to an empty classroom. "Come on, I'll try to
explain as best I can."
    We turned two desks and sat down facing each
other. I ran my hands over the smooth surface, willing my fiery
cheeks to cool. "So, explain."
    "First—I'm sorry. I wanted to keep you from
all this and I behaved like a complete jerk in the process. You
deserved better than that."
    "It must've been really tough on you."
    The corner of his mouth lifted. "You're too
nice for your own good."
    "And you're stalling."
    "You're right." Taking a deep breath, he
began. "I mentioned my moon cycle this morning. It's hard to put
this into words, but basically my ability to remember or control
myself changes with the fullness of the moon."
    "I'm not sure I understand."
    "I think of it as a continuum. The wolf part
of me strengthens with the full moon. The stronger the wolf, the
less there is of me." He shifted in his seat, his fingers tapping
nervously on the desktop. "In the beginning and end of the cycle, I
have a lot of control. I can go and do what I want. I remember
everything."
    "And as you grow closer to the full moon?" I
dreaded his response.
    "Like I said, it's hard to describe. At first
it's as though I'm watching my actions from outside myself. I'm
there, but unable to maintain complete control. But I've always
been able to hold myself back from...the urges I feel."
    That didn't sound good. I tried numerous
times to form the words before I at last managed to speak them
aloud. "What kind of urges?"
    "Trust me, you don't want to know."
    "And what happens on the full moon?" My voice
came out as a hoarse rasp.
    "There's the million dollar question." His
shoulders tensed. "I never remember anything." He paused and
glanced out the window. Several students tramped through the leaves
outside, playfully tossing handfuls over each other's heads. Ty
looked like he carried the weight of the world. "I wake up and it's
like there's this void in my mind. More than any other time, I feel
the wolf in me. I don't know if this makes sense, but during those
times I want to be the wolf—to lose myself to it."
    I grasped his hand in mine, hating to hear
the misery in his voice. "We're going to figure this out."
    "I hope you're right." He moved to stand near
the windows. "It's growing stronger, Mac." He turned, a solemn
expression on his face. "Truth is, I may have killed Kim. The urges
I spoke of—they make me believe it's possible."
    "I don't believe that for a minute."
    The corner of his mouth lifted into a wry
grin. "I'm glad you're sure."
    Shaking my head, I struggled to find words.
"I just can't believe what you've been going through all this
time."
    He shrugged, his eyes still on the students
outside. "I didn't even know what happened at first. I didn't
change right away—I could feel changes happening inside of me, but
I didn't change change until the next cycle. I just
thought..." He leaned against the window frame. "I don't know what
I thought. I woke up with these cuts and thought I'd been attacked
and blocked it out or something. Then when they disappeared..."
    "Why do you think that is?" It eerily
reminded me of religious stigmata.
    He rubbed his hands roughly over his face.
"My theory is that they're a mark of