Darkest Powers Bonus Pack Part 3

Like they can sense what I am, I wanted to say. Like deep down they know I'm a werewolf, even if they don't realize it.

I didn't say that because it would only upset him, another problem he couldn't solve for me. I hated being so much trouble. I never used to be. When we were kids, Simon was always the one mouthing off and pushing the boundaries. I was the one who did as he was told and never gave Dad any trouble.

Then I turned thirteen and everything changed. I'd always kept to myself, not trying to make friends, but not p.i.s.sing people off either. Suddenly I became "Simon's jerk brother."

I could say that it's not my fault, but a lot of times it is. People annoy me easier. I'd go through days of feeling like s.h.i.t, cranky and irritable, snapping at everyone who talked to me. The good son turned into the difficult one. It felt as if it wasn't just my clothing that didn't fit anymore. The world didn't fit me and I didn't fit it.

I felt like I did before I came to live with Dad and Simon. Like I didn't belong, like I was one step away from totally s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up. I couldn't tell Dad that. He thought I didn't remember much about that time, and I let him think that because he wanted me to forget it.

Even Simon seemed to forget. He'd talk about when Dad brought me home and I'd remind him he used to come play with me before that, and he'd shrug and say he didn't remember it. I guess that could be because he was almost a year younger than me. But I got the feeling there was more to it, that Dad worked to make us forget, not just because I'd been miserable there, but- "Derek?"

"Hmm?"

Dad smiled. "Lost you for a second there, bud. You were saying?"

"I don't remember." I bit off a chunk of pizza.

"Something about being bigger than most kids, how it makes you feel."

"Wasn't important."

"I think it was."

I shook my head, swallowed my mouthful, then rose to clear the table. Dad said he'd get it, but I did it anyway.

After dinner, Simon and I played football on the Xbox while Dad worked at the kitchen table. It was almost nine when the phone rang.

"Simon!" Dad called without looking up from his work.

"Can you grab it? I'm mid-play."

Dad sighed and answered. A pause. Then he said, "Yes, that's me."

"See?" Simon whispered. "It's not alwaysfor me."

"Who gave you this number?" Dad's tone had us both looking over, the game forgotten.

"My son is fifteen years old. As a criminal lawyer, I know his rights and your obligations as a reporter. Now, naturally we feel for the family of the boy who was injured when my son saved his brother from a racial attack. We hope for his full recovery. Both my sons are understandably upset about the incident. Perhaps in a day or two they'll feel ready to speak to you about it."

He hung up.

"Reporter?" Simon asked.

Dad snorted. "If you can call her that. Just someone from the local rag."

"Will that be a problem?" I asked.

"It's not exactly the New York Times." Dad laughed, but there was a tightness to it. "Hardly anyone herereads it. I'm not worried about someone in Buffalo picking up a copy."

"It wouldn't be a problem anyway, right?" Simon said. "You're the one who needs to be careful, not Derek."

"That's right."

I kept watching Dad. He avoided my gaze. It did matter. It always had. Dad made all three of us fly under the radar. Why?

"Did she say anything about the guy?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"The guy I threw. His condition. Did she know anything?"

"No." Dad shuffled his papers. "He's probably home right now playing hisXbox."

I could tell by his voice that he didn't believe that any more than I did. I got up from the floor.

"Hey," Simon called. "We're in the middle of a game. Where're you going?"

"Shower."

"Oh sure, when I was seconds away from kicking your a.s.s."

I tried to shoot back a retort, but couldn't find one, and just mumbled, "Sorry" before continuing on to the bathroom.

In the shower, I could finally be alone with my thoughts, no one trying to cheer me up, no one lying and telling me everything was okay. It wasn't okay. I was in serious trouble, and I wasn't going to feel better until I came up with a solution.

I couldn't solve this mess until I knew all the facts. How bad was the kid hurt? Was I going to be charged? I couldn't find out that for a while. But there was one thing I could do now. Think of a way to make sure I never screwed up like that again, never let the wolf take over again.

No matter how much I told myself a solution was possible, though, I only had to think back to that moment when I saw the knife, when the knife was the onlything I saw, and I knew there was no solution. In that moment, the wolf took over and there was no way the human part of me could have stepped in because there'd been no human part of me. My brother was in danger and nothing else mattered.

I stayed in the shower until it ran cold and Dad knocked and said, "Using up all our water, bud?" I turned it off, grabbed a towel and stepped into the hall.

"We should talk, Derek," Dad said.

"I'm fine," I said, then shouldered past him into my room and shut the door.

I lay awake until I heard Simon come in just before eleven. I pretended to be asleep until his snores told me hewas. Then I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, looking for answers I couldn't find.

It was midnight when the phone buzzed. Dad answered from the kitchen on the first ring, meaning he'd been waiting up for the call.

With werewolf hearing, I can eavesdrop even when I don't want to, but Dad knew that, and lowered his voice so I could only catch a murmur, growing distant as he walked away.

I slid out of bed. There was no sign of him on the main level. When I finally realized he'd gone to the bas.e.m.e.nt, he was signing off before I caught any of the conversation.

I padded down the steps and found Dad in the laundry room, rubbing his hands over his face.

"There's a problem, isn't there?" I said.

He jumped and forced a smile. "I swear I'm buying a bell for you. Preferably before you give me a heart attack."

"I heard the phone."

"Hmm?" He looked down at the receiver still clutched in his hand. "Oh. Just work."

"Yeah?" I looked around the laundry room. I didn't say anything, but he knew what I meant.

"Confidentiality." He gave a crooked smile. "And it's not the sort of case you guys need to overhear. Definitely not one I'll be telling around the dinner table."

"Yeah?"

I met his gaze with a steady stare. He only returned it. I wanted to push, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. It was like I was still a little kid who couldn't be trusted with the truth.

I headed for the steps.

He sighed. "Derek . . ."

I kept going.

Five.

I don't know if I slept that night. It didn't feel like it. When I got up, Dad asked if I wanted to stay home and get some sleep. He knew I didn't need it. For me, a restless night only means I won't have a restless day. What he really meant was that I didn't have to go to school, and face the other kids, the teachers, the rumors. But hiding wasn't how I handled problems. We had to do enough of that already.

Dad wanted to drive us in. Again, I refused. Simon joked about turning down his chance for a ride, and I know he was just teasing, but I snapped that hecould take the ride. They left me alone after that.

It was almost a mile to school and there were plenty of times on that walk that I really wished Simon had taken Dad up on the offer. When he wasn't trying to cheer me up, he was scuffling along, feeling bad because he couldn't.

Finally, I could see the schoolyard ahead.

"There's Mark," I said, gesturing at one of his friends from the basketball team.

"Yep."

"He's looking over here. I think he wants to talk to you."

"I'm good."

I looked out at the kids standing around. When I'd first spotted them, they'd been in their usual cl.u.s.ters, goofing, talking, avoiding going into school until the last possible moment. Now those groups had started to join, a mob shifting our way.

"Go on," I said.

"I said I'm good."

"I want you to-"

"Too bad. I'm right beside you."

When I tried to argue again, Simon's eyes flared. "Enough of this bulls.h.i.t, Derek. You've barely said a word to me since last night. If there's something you wantto say, spit it out."

"Like what?"

"Like this is my fault. If I hadn't egged those guys on, none of this would have happened."

"You didn't do anything. They came at you. I overreacted. You were just there."

I could tell he didn't believe me, but it was true. What happened was my fault. Only mine.

"Fine," I said. "If you really want to walk with me-"

"I do. So shut up and walk."

As we drew closer, Mark called, "Simon!" and started toward us before being swallowed by the mob. They kept creeping forward, whispers snaking through the crowd.

"I heard he just went off on the guy. For no reason."

"I heard he was so doped up, they had to tie him down."

"I heard he's got a record. That's why they moved here."

"I heard the kid's in a coma."

"No, he's a vegetable."

"No, he's dead."

Simon caught the last one and wheeled on the offender-one of the girls who'd cornered me in the hall yesterday. Catching Simon's glare, she inched back.

"Dead?" he said. "Yeah, Derek killed a kid, but they're letting him come to school today." He turned to me and waved at the girl. "Check it out, bro. A living science experiment for you. Proof people can walk and talk without a brain."

That was harsh, and the look on the girl's face almost made me feel sorry for her.

"Drop it," I mumbled to Simon, and tried to keep going, but the crowd shifted into my path, enough to make me tense, the wolf perking up.

"You guys want to know what happened last night?" Simon said. "I'll tell you. Three of your local losers decided they wanted my ball court-and my ball. When I didn't love the idea, they felt the need to point out that I'm not white, which was, of course, a huge shock to me. When that didn't work, they decided to drive in their point with a blade. Derek didn't approve of that plan. He threw the guy off me. One guy. One throw. Not a single punch. If anyone has a problem with that, let me know."

"Yeah, Simon. I have a problem with it." Mark shouldered his way through the crowd. "That loserDerek hurt is my brother."

"My condolences."

Mark scowled, like he couldn't decide if Simon was offering condolences on what happened or on having an idiot as a brother.

"Now," Simon said. "If anyone else-"