Page 36 of Dark

Slamming out of the bunkroom, I raced down the hall. A dark shadow bolted from an open door.

River.

I plowed past him, the smell of sick so strong my wolf wanted to scrub its nose in the carpet. Wild with rage, I slapped the light switch. My brother screamed louder.

“Where, August?” I shouted, ripping open the closet door.

An avalanche of action figures, matchbox cars, and assorted game pieces, plus the missing Nerf gun West had been looking for all week, spilled out over my feet. I swiveled in search of the intruder.

Footsteps sounded behind me. Snarling, I sprang between August and the threat, only to come face to face with Sofia. Her eyes flared wolf-gold. Cowed, I backed down.

“I, um—”

“Mommy, my head hurts,” August wailed from behind me.

Steering me to one side, Sofia began swiftly issuing orders. Brody, peering in ashen faced from the hall, was to run a bath. West should find clean sheets and ginger ale. Dallas, she instructed to make up a bed for River on the couch. I crept to the edge of my brother’s bed, each new scream threatening to send me crawling out of my skin.

Shifters could get sick, but it was rare, almost unheard of. Because of our enhanced ability to heal, we typically lived at least two human lifespans, sometimes more. I’d never caught a cold, had never even been to the doctor. As far as I knew, neither had any of the Caldwells.

“Ethan.”

I froze, hands balling into fists. The Ben who sometimes took us to the Dairy Queen after supper for ice cream was okay. So was the one who asked if I wanted to throw the football on the weekends with Brody and Dallas, even though we all knew that would only end up with me tossing the ball off into the grass. And the Ben who took me aside and said he was real proud when I finally brought my science grade up was all right, too, even if the question made my stomach hurt for days.

But it was this voice that always made the hair at the back of my neck tingle, his sheriff’s voice infused with Alpha power. This voice, that let me know I was about to get my least favorite version of Ben.

Forcing myself away from August’s bed, I walked stiffly out into the hall. Brody, West and Dallas were already lined up against the wall, a red-faced River plastered to West’s side.

“I want a straight answer.”

“Yessir,” they chorused, even Dallas looking somber as August continued to scream.

At the sound, my throat constricted until I could barely take in air.

“We have to figure out what happened to your brother,” Ben said. “Maybe he was playing and fell, or someone got to horsing around too rough.”

Wolf clawing to the surface, I bared my teeth at the others. West rubbed his eyes, still half-asleep. Brody frowned in obvious confusion. And when River started to whimper, Dallas stooped to pick him up. And that was when I noticed Ben’s eyes were locked on me, and it hit me who his question had been intended for all along.

Fury exploded inside me, hot as the sun. Beside me, Dallas flinched. I didn’t care, my rage a cold, black thing, shattering the walls I’d spent a year so carefully constructing.

“Need to calm down, son.”

Ben’s power pressed down on my shoulders, cold and stifling as a lead blanket. Swaying in place, I gritted my teeth.

“I’m not your son. And I would never hurt my brother.”

For a beat, no one breathed. Then, to my shock, Brody stepped forward.

“That’s the truth, sir.”

I blinked. Ben fired a sharp look at Brody, who quickly backed down. But before I could react, Dallas cleared his throat.

“We were all in the room when August started hollering. Ethan got in there the fastest ‘cause,” Dally shrugged, “well, it’s August, but there was light coming in the window. I saw him jump off the top bunk.”

“Ethan,” my brother whimpered.

I managed a staggering step towards August’s room, legs encased in concrete. Ben’s power squeezed harder, driving the air from my lungs. Gasping, I fell to my knees. Ben pointed to the corner.

“Go take a time out until you can get your wolf under control.”