THE WITCH AND THE WEREWOLF~ tyler lockwood

05) opposites don't attract

I let go of Tyler's hand and pulled myself to my feet. I refused to make eye contact with him. "Jeremy, we need to leave." I grabbed Jeremy's hand and started dragging him towards the front door. The sooner we left, the sooner I would never have to see Tyler Lockwood again.

"Don't leave, Rory."

His voice sounded broken and I stalled. It was supposed to be easier than this. Supernatural creatures were supposed to be bad. Humans were supposed to be good. And witches were supposed to be protectors, but I was finding it harder and harder to believe that.

I couldn't walk away from him.

"I'm not a werewolf." He paused. "But my uncle is."

Air flooded my lungs. He wasn't a werewolf. Relief flooded my system and I wanted to hug Tyler, but I knew that would be out of line. We were barely friends and such an act might give him the wrong idea. I knew that I had feelings for the Lockwood boy, feelings I was too stubborn to ever admit, but I also knew that someone like Tyler Lockwood could never reciprocate my feelings, whatever they happen to be.

Putting the supernatural aside, our human lives didn't match. Tyler was the son of Mystic Falls late mayor and had a wealthy inheritance attached to his last name. He lived in a mansion for god's sake! I, on the other hand, was the daughter of a dead alcoholic, who left me nothing but black magic that drove a rift between my mom and me. Not to mention, he was older and more popular. The social constructs in place in our small town would never allow Tyler to think twice about me like that.

Tyler spoke again and I shoved my irrelevant feelings to the back of my mind. "According to Mason, you have to trigger the curse. Somebody has to die by yours hands and next full moon the curse takes effect. Howling on all fours. That type of shit."

Jeremy nodded. I didn't know what to say. I'm just grateful Tyler isn't a werewolf. It would be bad enough knowing he's supernatural, but knowing that a werewolf is created through murder is too much to handle.

"Is that why your uncle came back?" Jeremy asked.

Tyler rolled his eyes and a small smirk graced his face. "Yeah, right. He came back for this."

Tyler brandished a smooth stone the size of his palm. I stared at it in confusion. I've never seen anything like it, but if Mason, a werewolf, was after it, it had to have value.

"It's a moonstone. I googled it and I guess it has supernatural ties," Tyler explained, flipping the rock in his hand.

I watched as it landed in his palm and then held my hand out. "Can I see it?"

Tyler hesitated, but then handed me the stone. I held it up, so I could see it better and then tried squeezing it. I wasn't getting any magical vibes from it but if Mason wanted it then it must have magic connected to it. Magic I couldn't sense.

"Can I borrow it?" The request seemed so stupid slipping off my tongue. No way Tyler would let me, someone he assumed was human, run off with a rock his uncle wanted so badly.

Tyler opened his mouth before shutting it and then opening it again. "I know it's pretty, Rory, but this is my business and I think I should keep the rock."

I batted my eyelashes and pouted my lips. God, I'm going to hate myself for this later. "Just for the night."

"Just give me the rock, Rory." He seemed to be getting angry, but I needed to take the moonstone with me. Bonnie might be able to pick up a magical signature I can't.

My eyes shot to Jeremy and I raised my eyebrows. I made a run for the door and Jeremy stepped into Tyler's path. Jeremy was barely an obstacle for Tyler and he simply shoved him out of the way. I wasn't stupid enough to think I could out run Tyler, so I threw the rock across the room into Jeremy's open hands.

"Not funny," Tyler growled, then turned to face Jeremy.

Tyler took two threatening steps forward and Jeremy chucked the moonstone at me. I caught it at the opening of the door and bolted down the front patio steps. I made it down one step successfully when I felt Tyler grab my arm. I yanked my forearm free and tumbled down the remaining steps, smacking my head against the pavement.

I stared up at Tyler in a daze, my vision blurring. His mouth was agape and he looked at his hands in horror. He ran down the steps, grabbed the moonstone from beside me, and ran across his front lawn to his car. He drove away before Jeremy reached me.

"Are you okay?"

I sat up and felt around my head for bumps. I didn't find anything concerning, but when I pulled away there was a light staining of blood on my hand. Jeremy's face paled and I shook my head. "It's nothing."

"Jeremy." His gaze refocused on my eyes instead of my hand. "My mom's a nurse. I'll have her check it out tonight."

Jeremy still looked unconvinced. He knew my strained relationship with my mother. I took both of his hands in mine and sighed deeply.

"I promise." My words felt heavy and wrong, but I wasn't about to take them back. I might only exchange a few words with my mom a week, but Jeremy had enough to be worried about. Asking my mother about a minor incident where I hit my head wouldn't be so terrible. It would make Jeremy stress less and I could rule out the possibility of a concussion.
____________________

Jeremy walked me home and didn't leave my side until I was safely over the threshold of the front door and he saw my mom's dirty, red punch buggy in the driveway. I gave Jeremy a long hug goodnight, dreading the future conversation with my mother, and convinced him I was alright despite me gripping his torso a little too hard.

My mother was sitting at the kitchen aisle with only one light on in the house. At least I could sleep a little easier knowing she paid the electric bill. She was nursing a cup of coffee between her pale fingers and her curly hair hid her eyes from me. Her hair was dark brown from constant dye jobs to hide the grays and I couldn't remember a time when it was red like mine, although she used to convince me when we talked more that it was just as vibrant and beautiful as mine.

I sat down across from her and instantly caught her attention. Whenever we talked it was in passing, not face to face like this.

"I hit my head tonight." The words sounded dull and unimportant and maybe they were.

I lifted my gaze, hoping to meet her's. She still hid behind her hair, but she was clutching her mug a little tighter.

"I know people hit their heads all the time and it probably seems insignificant to you and I know you're busy with real patients all day, but I was wondering if you could possibly, you can totally say no, look at my-"

"Rory."

I shut my mouth and her brown eyes finally sought mine. Her eyes were dull and I couldn't find the light they used to almost possess. Even when I was younger and didn't know about witchcraft, I knew my mother wasn't one hundred percent the woman she used to be. The light and happiness never reached the surface of her eyes. But before I could still see it swimming in the depths and I knew she wanted to be happy, but wouldn't let herself.

Now I couldn't find a remnant of that light at all.

I wondered for a brief moment how long my mom's light has been snuffed out, before she spoke.

"I would love to take a look at your head."

She placed her coffee mug in the sink, still half full of black coffee, and rounded the kitchen aisle. I felt her comb back my long hair and part it along my scalp. She felt around for bumps and then let my hair be.

Finally, she walked around so we could see eye to eye. "I think you're okay, baby girl."

My throat clogged up and I nodded my head. Part of me hoped that she wasn't just talking about my head. I hoped she was talking about me being a witch.