Hidden Moon (14 page)

I had never been afraid of heights. In fact, I loved them. The thrill of seeing how far up I could go constantly got me into trouble when I was younger. I was always getting grounded for going up the neighbor’s apple trees, but I couldn’t help it. They were the only trees around. I learned fast that palm trees would skin your knees and didn’t have enough places to hold onto to climb. So Mr. Bugg’s trees always tempted me. By the time I was seven, my parents decided the only way to stay in the neighbor’s good graces was to put me in gymnastics class. There I could climb, flip, jump and tumble with a nice, safe padded floor to catch me as I learned. I never did get up into the apple trees anymore after that.

There isn’t anyone here that teaches gymnastics. There are plenty of mountains, though. Maybe I could take a rock climbing class, I thought, climbing up near the top of the ladder, to set my paint in the upstairs windowsill.

I concentrated on filling the cracks in the old wood siding. I grinned, watching the old boards seem to transform with the new paint.

I hummed to myself. I should have put my stereo near the open window. It was too quiet. Normally, I heard the birds singing from the nearby woods. The only noise I heard was the wind as it blew through the trees and stirred the leaves in the yard.

Everything was quiet. That means there was something there earlier
.
There are things in there you wouldn’t understand. Promise you won’t go into the woods by yourself,
Adam’s words echoed in my mind as I listened to the silence.

I shook my head, there wasn’t anything there. It was just my imagination at work. I looked over at the trees near Adam’s path. A dark shadow flickered among the darkness. I blinked and then stared harder.

Nah, you’re just nuts is all. Nothing is there
,
I thought, and began painting again.

Soon, I became engrossed in the task, and didn’t pay attention to anything but the paint and my brush in my hand. Time flew by. I almost had the top part finished. I stretched to reach the last bare spot in the top corner of the house so I wouldn’t have to get down and move my ladder over.

I can reach it. I stretched, willing my short arms to be longer. I was as high as I could go, but I needed an inch more. I slid my foot closer to the edge of the ladder. I could almost reach it, if I could just make it a little farther.

I felt the ladder shift to one side. I lost my grip and fell.

Oh, no, I thought as nothing but air brushed by me, this will kill me. I’m too far up.

I noticed a dark flash from out of the corner of my eye. I tensed, waiting for the ground to take me. I closed my eyes tight. I felt myself hit, and then the breath was knocked out of me.

The ground grunted with my impact. I gasped, trying to get my air back in my lungs. What felt like an air bubble, burst in my chest, and I gulped in the warm summer air. I lay there, looking at the sky. I was afraid to move when I realized the ground beneath me was moving up and down as it took short, shallow breaths.

It grunted again, and a muffled voice came from below me, “If you’re okay, can you get off me? You’re heavier than you look and I’d like to breathe again.”

I rolled over to my side. I had landed on someone.

Brian took a deep breath and sat up. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I experimented in bending my arms and legs.

“You’re nuts. Why did you hang off the ladder like that? Do you just like falling off of stuff? Why didn’t you wait until someone got home and held it for you? You know you could have called and I would have come and helped.” He sent questions flying at me one after another before I could say a word.

I sat calmly. When he finally took a breath, I answered, “I thought I could reach it. I normally don’t fall off of anything, and I’m quite capable of going up a ladder by myself, thank you very much.”

“It appears you’re capable of coming down it, too.”

“Yeah, I guess it appears that way. But I am glad you were at the bottom to break my fall. Other than getting squashed, are you feeling better?”

“I am, thanks. I thought I’d get some fresh air and walk up and see if you had heard the news,” he said as a reluctant smile spread across his face.

“I haven’t heard anything from anyone since I saw you last.” I stood up to retrieve my paintbrush out of a rose bush and smacked it against my leg to knock the dirt out.

“Mom made it home a little while ago and told me. They think they’ve caught the trail killer.”

“No way. Who was it?” I stopped and turned, giving him my full attention.

“They think it was Mr. Walters that lives in the rental house across town. The Appalachian Trail comes down pretty close there. Someone called in a tip and they went and checked it out. They found one of the girls’ ID bracelets in his garage, so they took him in for questioning,” Brian said, brushing the dirt off his jeans.

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, maybe he’ll tell them where he put the bodies. But on the upside of things, at least there’s one body they won’t have to look for now. Adam and the other guys found the last hiker, right about the time we finished our hike. She had wandered off the path and stepped in a hole. She hit her head when she landed. They took her to the hospital. She has a mild concussion, but they think she’s going to be fine.”

“I bet Tommy and Michael aren’t too happy they got left out of that adventure,” I mumbled, turning my attention back to the house.

“You’re not going back up there.”

“I have to finish that spot, it won’t paint itself. Besides, you’re here now so you can hold the ladder and catch me if I fall again,” I said as I set my ladder back up.

“You’re not going back up there,” he repeated, grabbing the brush out of my hand. “As much as I love to play hero, I nearly didn’t catch you.
You
hold the ladder and I’ll finish it.”

He was halfway up before I could object, so I stood there holding the ladder and watched him finish what I started.

“I found raspberry bushes on the way back down the trail today,” I said.

“I know where they are. You can get there from here. It isn’t far. Mom and I used to visit Aunt Mae and we’d all go berry picking. It was fun. You just go through the trees over there and walk straight ahead for about fifteen minutes, it will lead you to the other side of the patch you found.” He used the brush to point toward a clump of trees behind the shed.

“Since they’ve already caught the trail killer, maybe I’ll go tomorrow and pick some. Do you want to come?”

“I would love to, but I can’t. Tomorrow we have to go visit my grandparents over in Roanoke. We’ll be over there all day. But thanks for the invite, maybe I can go some other time,” he said as he came back down the ladder.

“It’s a deal. Thanks for finishing that up. I hate to leave something half-done.”

“No problem. Just do me a favor and don’t do something that crazy again without someone else here,” he said, stepping closer to me, his eyes serious. “You could have gotten hurt—or worse.”

“Okay, I’ll call you next time and see if you want to come and play catch again,” I teased, trying to lighten his mood.

“Promise?” Brian stepped closer. He was only inches away from me now.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He looked different to me now. The bones of his cheek and jaw were more pronounced. He looked stronger and more mature. The sun seemed to bring out the glossy black of his hair as it fell forward. His skin was darker, now a bronze that made his bright blue eyes stand out like two sparkling sapphires.

He reached up and traced his finger down the line of my cheek. I felt my heart start to race as he leaned in closer and closed the small gap between us. He kissed me, a bare whisper of lips as his brushed mine.

Over the pounding of the pulse in my ears, I thought I heard a snarling growl that came from the trees. A small smile played on Brian’s lips and his eyes hardened as he turned and looked toward the edge of the woods as if he had heard it, too.

“I need to head back,” he said, suddenly. “I’ll call you tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” I said, unable to stop the blush that rose in my cheeks. “I’ll walk you around.”

After making me promise not to paint anymore that day, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and started back down the road. I watched him walk, taking in the breadth of his shoulders as their muscles strained against the fabric of his black t-shirt. He seemed stronger all of a sudden. I shook my head. He had to have been like that all along, I just hadn’t noticed.

Hero worship, I thought. I fell and he caught me. That’s why I’m noticing all the muscles now.

I watched until he was out of sight, and then I turned and walked back to the porch. It still felt as if eyes were staring at me from the forest.

HE DIDN’T SEE what the big deal was. Hidden under a canopy of darkened trees, he sat watching her as she climbed up the ladder. He was curious. He couldn’t understand what the whelp of a boy saw in her. She was short, with frizzy blonde curls, and eyes the color of mud. He couldn’t figure out why the boy liked her and wanted her so much. It would be a lot easier if she wasn’t in the picture to muddle things up. He did not want her here. Truth be told, he didn’t want anyone here. This place was his. He worked very hard at keeping this particular house vacant. It had been his to look after.

It was their fault, all of it. This stupid girl and her family were to blame. He had lost his job because of them. If they would have just stayed away, none of it would have happened. He would still have the run of the place. He would be free to come and go as he pleased, but now he had to be careful. So careful.

He snorted, causing the dead leaves below him to ruffle and move. The girl turned from her perch near the top of the house, and peered back over at her shoulder. His breath caught as instinct kicked in. He crouched lower in the shadows. She seemed to be staring right at him. Had she heard him? No, that was impossible. She was only a girl, after all, and a dumb one at that. Still, he sighed in relief when she turned back and started humming and painting again.

The boy and his mother had lived by the woods for so long that they were used to the sounds that came from the forest. They didn’t pay attention to what lay so close to them. He watched them occasionally, too, but he didn’t mind them. In their own strange way, they felt as if they belonged there as much as he did. He enjoyed watching the pretty woman with brown hair plant her little flowers in the window boxes while the boy tinkered with his old, dilapidated truck. It was odd, but he felt protective of them, and did not like the boy coming to this house.

Then, the idea struck him. He could do it now. He could run up there and knock against the ladder and cause it to fall. It wasn’t exactly the way he preferred to hunt, but she wouldn’t survive such a great fall. No one would suspect. They would call it an accident. The mother and little girl would move away, the house would be vacant again and the boy would stay away. It was perfect. His lips moved up in an eerie grin that emphasized his sharp fangs. His muscled tensed with eagerness, and he felt almost giddy as he readied himself for the kill.

Ready to spring, he stopped and watched in awe as she took one foot off the ladder and stretched. He watched the ladder wobble as she continued to reach for the corner. He sat back down in his shadows, content to let fate do his dirty work. Eagerly, he waited for the second she would fall. Anticipation was the greatest part of the hunt, he reminded himself.

Then, it happened.

His glee turned into astonishment at what he saw next. The boy had run in to save the day. He fidgeted. He should have seen him coming. Or at least heard him. He had moved like a blur, and was just
there.
Just in time to ruin his perfect plan. Well, wasn’t that just…perfect. Rage surged through him as the animal in him awakened, eager to hunt. Wasn’t two better than one?

No, no. He took deep breaths to calm his beast. He couldn’t hunt them both
,
he reasoned with himself. Her? Absolutely. That would be just fine. But not
the boy
. Shaking from the urges of the animal, he sat with tremors running up and down his body and watched.

It was far worse than he had feared. The boy was besotted with the little tramp. He watched as the paint made it on the corner of the house, and then watched in disgust and horror as the boy leaned over to kiss her. His control loosened just enough that a low growl rumbled out of his chest.

The boy turned and stared at him with cold, blue eyes. He had heard him. But how? He had never sensed him before. His animal in his control, he sat calm, yet astonished, and stared back at the boy. Then, he knew.