Whispers at Moonrise (10 page)

Kylie frowned, not liking being shut out of his world, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to belong to it. She’d bet that Fredericka knew everything. “But I do need to know. I want to be a part of your life. I don’t want to be shut out.”
I don’t want your pack or your family keeping us apart.

His eyes tightened. “I’m not shutting you out. I just prefer that you know this Lucas.”

She digested his words. “There can only be one Lucas.”

“There is only one. One real one. But I have to play games with my father and the council. I have to convince him that I’m on his side.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“And I don’t expect you to.”

She dropped her hand from his arm. “That’s not right. How would you like it if you thought I kept things from you?”

A frown pulled at his lips. “You do keep things from me. Things about your ghosts.” His eyes brightened with frustration. “Things you talk to Derek about and not me. And you’re right, I don’t like it.”

She considered his words and knew they were true. “I only keep things from you because you don’t want to know about them. They make you crazy.”

He nodded, and acceptance filled his eyes, but she could tell it cost him emotionally. “And believe me when I tell you that the things I keep to myself are things you wouldn’t want to know either.”

She looked deep into his eyes, hating this conversation, but only because she cared so much about him. “Secrets between people can’t be good. It can keep them apart. Why don’t we just tell each other everything?”

“Sometimes what we don’t know protects us. It can’t hurt us if we don’t know it.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I can promise you this, Kylie Galen. I’ll do whatever I have to do, but I won’t let this hurt you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean by whatever you have to do?”

“Just that. I won’t let what’s happening in my messed-up life hurt you.”

His words scared her. But the fear was more for him than for herself. “I’m not some fragile little girl. I’m not the same girl whose window you peeked into.”

The playfulness in his eyes was both sexy and warm. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. But you’re still my girl, and I want to protect you.”

She rolled her eyes in frustration. “I’m the protector. That’s what I do,” Kylie insisted.

“I know. You’re amazing and can do amazing things. And you’ve already saved my life. But as a protector, the one thing you can’t do is protect yourself. So please don’t try to stop me from doing it.”

*   *   *

Kylie woke up before the sun the next morning. The only thing she was aware of was Socks sleeping on her stomach, his pointed skunk nose resting between her breasts. She lifted her head and stared at the little guy. He opened one of his beady eyes and then the other, and stared up at her with adoration. The kind of look one got only from a pet.

The kind that said pure love and acceptance.

The silence in the room was loud. Unsure about what had awakened her, she pulled her arm out from under the thin cover to measure the temperature. No cold. No ghosts.

And then she heard it. Or heard her.

“Kitty, kitty,” Miranda called from the slightly opened bedroom door. “Come on, Socks. Don’t you want to be turned back into a kitten?”

Socks sprang to his feet, leapt to the floor, and scurried under the bed. Kylie wasn’t sure if his annoyance was at Miranda for constantly trying to change him back or if he perhaps didn’t want to change. Considering Kylie had changed a whole hell of a lot these past few months, she couldn’t blame Socks. Change was scary.

Miranda pushed open the door a bit more. “Come on, don’t make it hard on me.”

Kylie leaned up on her elbow and yawned. “I think he’s scared.”

Miranda moved in a little more. “I think I got it figured out. I just need to take him outside and into the first morning light.”

“Hmm.” Kylie rose up, putting her bare feet on the cold wood floor. Too cold? She did another visual sweep to check for ghosts. Nope. She had a ghost-free zone happening.

“Sorry I woke you up. I thought I could just sneak in and grab him.” Miranda seemed wide awake and in a good mood as she plopped down and gave the mattress a little bounce.

“No big deal. I was practically awake anyway,” Kylie lied. In truth, it had been a pretty sleepless night. After Lucas had left, Della had retired to her room and Miranda hadn’t come home, so Kylie had grabbed Socks and gone to bed. Not to sleep. That would have been too easy. She’d tossed and turned for hours, juggling her problems like balls, and not really solving a single one of them.

However, she had to admit, she’d gotten used to thinking of herself as a chameleon. And was thrilled it was one day closer to Thursday, when her real grandfather would visit.

Or at least she prayed he’d visit her.

Remembering her difficulty falling sleep reminded her that the last time she checked the clock, at around three
AM
, Miranda still hadn’t come back.

“So, are you going to fill me in?” Kylie asked.

“Fill you in on what?” Miranda’s smile tightened with mischievousness. Kylie studied her friend closer. She wore the same clothes she’d worn to her date last night. Had Miranda woken her to try to transform Socks back into a kitty, or did she need someone to talk with? Not that Kylie minded. She’d woken Della and Miranda up many nights, mostly with dreams or those scary visions—but if she had just needed to talk, she knew they’d be there for her.

“Just what time did you get home, young lady?” Kylie asked in a teasing voice.

“Early. I swear.” Miranda giggled. “Early this morning.”

“Details. I want details.” Kylie rubbed her hands together, mimicking Miranda.

“Don’t get too excited,” Miranda said. Then she sighed. “We didn’t … you know. But we did … well, you know.”

Kylie let the riddle roll around her sleep-dazed mind and shook her head. “I think I get the first ‘you know,’ but I’m lost on the second ‘you know.’” Still feeling the cold on the bottom of her feet, she pulled her legs up on the mattress. The darkness in the room felt lightened just by Miranda’s presence.

“We kissed, we made out.” Miranda’s grin widened, and then she got that sappy lovestruck look on her face. “We fell asleep in each other’s arms down by the swimming hole. He held me all night long, and I think I’m in love for real. It’s like I know I belong there. In his arms.”

Kylie remembered the times she’d fallen asleep in Lucas’s arms. Awesome didn’t begin to describe it. But had she woken up knowing for sure that he was the one? She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way.

Then, realizing this was Miranda’s moment, she pushed her self-indulgence away. “Well, I’m thrilled for you.” And Kylie was. Even if she was just a tad envious, too.

“I know
you
are.” Miranda’s smile faded. “I don’t think Della will feel the same way.”

“Of course she will,” Kylie said. “She just has a hard time showing it. Remember how she kept encouraging you to make up with Perry when you were mad at him?”

“I guess,” Miranda said, not sounding convinced. “I mean, I feel as if I can’t say anything about Perry around her now. I get that she’s hurt about Lee and I don’t want to make her feel bad, but I also want to be able to talk to her about what’s going on in my life. And right now what’s going on in my life is all about Perry. Seriously, I don’t want to have to walk on eggshells around her.”

“And I think you’re just worrying too much. Believe me, in a day or two things will be back to normal and you guys will be threatening to rip each other’s limbs off for a reason that has nothing to do with Perry.”

Miranda exhaled. “You make it sound like we argue all the time.”

“Not all the time,” Kylie said. “Just most of the time.”

Miranda shrugged. “Anyway, do you think you can help me snag Socks so I can see if I got the spell right? Perry listened to me practice for an hour. I want to fix this.” Miranda frowned. “I feel like a screw-up.”

“You’re not a screw-up.” Kylie looked down at the floor. “Come here, Socks. Come here, baby.”

Miranda fell back on the mattress. “I feel like one, especially when my Wiccan sisters tease me about it. I suck at being a witch.”

“They tease you about Socks?” Kylie asked.

“Yeah, not that I blame them. I messed up.”

“Screw them,” Kylie said. “You should figure out how to curse them with a dose of dyslexia and see how they deal with it.”

“They’re really not being mean,” Miranda said.

“But it hurts you.” Anger for Miranda burned Kylie’s chest. She hated bullies. Hated people who put other people down so they could feel better about themselves.

Miranda popped back up. “But they’re just teasing.” She knelt and tapped her fingers on the floor. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

Miranda’s words seemed to be sucked up by the shadows in the corners of the room. Kylie lowered her foot from the bed and swiped her heel against the bed ruffle.

She waited to feel Socks attack her ankle. The only thing she felt was an icy cold leaking from beneath the bed skirt. An icy cold that gave Kylie a bad feeling.

She looked at Miranda. “Why don’t you go outside and I’ll … I’ll bring him to you. He’ll probably come out when you leave.” For some reason the room seemed to grow darker. Kylie hoped Socks was all that would come out.

Miranda stood. “I don’t know why he doesn’t like me,” she muttered, and walked out.

Kylie cautiously stood and stared down at the bed ruffle. “Socks? Kitty?”

No little skunk came scampering from beneath the bed. No soft meow whispered from beneath to let her know he was okay.

Taking a deep breath, she got on her hands and knees and stared at the unmoving ruffle. She fought the temptation to breathe on it. For some odd reason, she wanted to see something move; the odd stillness of the material didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right.

She reached for the cotton material to peer beneath it, praying all she’d find was one scared skunk. Kylie’s fingers almost touched the ruffle when a sound—a moan or a strangled cry—whispered from beneath the bed. She jerked her hand back. Her breath caught. That didn’t sound like Socks at all.

An icy and unnatural cold snaked from under the bed. Steam billowed out from the bed skirt. Fear, ugly, raw fear filled her chest. She glanced back at the door. Wished she could leave. Knew she couldn’t. Instinct told her Socks wasn’t alone under that bed.

Still on her hands and knees, she took one tiny knee shift backward. How many times as a child had she feared a monster under the bed? How many times had her mom promised that monsters didn’t exist? That moan sounded again.

Her mom was wrong. A monster, or something equally scary, lurked right under Kylie’s bed.

She couldn’t blame her mom for the lie. Mom didn’t know.

But Kylie did.

Not that it mattered. Unwilling to abandon her pet, trying to settle her pounding heart, she reached again for the bed skirt. Right before her two fingers caught the cotton fabric, a hand shot out.

Her own scream faded into the shadows as the cold, dead hand grasped Kylie’s arm and yanked her forward.

She fought for freedom, clawed at the fingers, twisted her arm, anything to pry it loose. Nothing worked.

“Help!” she screamed, but no one answered. The clasp around her wrist tightened, dragging her closer. The last thing she saw was the bed ruffle sliding over her face as she slipped into dark oblivion. Her last thought before her mind went numb was that she was finally going to meet the monster living under her bed.

Chapter Ten

Kylie lay flat on her back, cloaked in darkness. Deep, black darkness.
Just a vision. It’s not real. Not real.

Something on each side of her pressed tight against her forearms. It felt real. She tried to move, but couldn’t. Fear swelled inside her. She tasted the bitterness of it on her tongue.

Disoriented, she tried to make sense of it. Inhaling, she smelled the earth. Wet, moist dirt. She wasn’t under the bed. Where was she? An answer came and she wished it hadn’t. She was buried. Another scream filled her throat, but logic told her this wasn’t real.
Just a vision.

But from who? And what? Holiday?

The sound of Kylie’s own breath leaving her lips sounded too loud. Instantly, she realized she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t the sound of someone else breathing. No one breathed but her. Yet the grip on her wrist hadn’t loosened. Whoever had dragged her under here hadn’t left—someone still clung to her wrist as if that person’s very life depended on it. Unfortunately, Kylie knew it was too late. Only she was alive.

“Why am I here?” She tried to move again but felt somehow constricted.

No answer came.

Blinking, her vision slowly adjusted to the darkness. She saw the pattern of old wood a few inches from her face.

She tried to pull her wrist away from the tight grip, but the hold only tightened.

“Oh, shit. What have you guys done?”
A familiar voice echoed in the darkness.

Holiday.

“I’m in here,” Kylie called out. Only this time no words left her mouth. She couldn’t speak.

“Cara M. said she could help us get out of here,”
another female voice answered.

Footsteps sounded above. The wood panel creaked. Dust and dirt sifted down on Kylie’s face. She blinked the grit from her eyes and tried to hold her breath so she didn’t choke.

“He’s leaving,”
someone whispered.

Kylie blinked, and when she opened her eyes, everything had changed. She stood in an old dilapidated cabin, staring down at the creaky wooden boards beneath her feet. Then, as if the floor faded, Kylie saw what lay hidden below.

Three decaying bodies lay positioned shoulder to shoulder. A scream spilled from Kylie’s lips. She tried to run, but her feet felt frozen. She tried to look away, but couldn’t.

One corpse was a woman with dark hair, probably in her early twenties, wearing a nightgown. The second was a blond around the same age wearing a familiar waitress outfit with a nametag on it that read
CARA M.
And the third … Oh God! Holiday.