By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) Read online

  BY THE PALE MOONLIGHT

  Book One of the Moonlight Series

  by Jennifer Hendren

  Copyright 2011 by Jennifer Hendren

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For Ruby and Tobe

  Acknowledgments

  Writing a novel is one of the wildest and most arduous adventures I've ever set out to accomplish. Doing so would've been impossible without the support and help of many, many people.

  Jenna Nichols. You've been my friend and greatest cheerleader through the years. Thank you for talking me off the writer ledge more times than I can count. Insanity surely would've set in by now if you weren't around to help keep it real. You've believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Thank you.

  My lovely ladies at All The World's Our Page: Claire Greer, Kristen Callihan, Rachel Walsh, and Susan J. Montgomery. You are my partners in crime. Thank you for your support and laughter. You're all completely crazy, but that's why I love you.

  Carrie Murgittroyd. What can I say, lady? You're made of awesome.

  Carol Spradling, Kait Nolan, Tricia Hill, Rhonddalyn Reiner, Mahtab Narsimhan and the many, many others who were forced to endure early drafts of this novel. It's been a long road getting here, but I couldn't have done it without a single one of you. Thank you for reading and telling me where I was going wrong.

  Amanda Sellet. You are by far the best thing I took away from Denver. Thank you.

  To my Gnomies--you know who you are, thank you. (Special shout-out to Baby Jeebus!)

  To all of the members of CompuServe Book and Writers Community, thank you. I want to give big props to Diana Gabaldon for writing the kickass books that brought to me that community to begin with, Joanna Bourne for the kind yet constructive criticism of my early work, and Beth Shope for not being afraid to give me the what's what.

  And finally, to my friends and family for their understanding and support. Special mention to Erin Wilhelm, who allowed me to use her beautiful daughter's name. Thank you.

  It's been a long road getting here, but we've made it!

  BY THE PALE MOONLIGHT

  Book One of the Moonlight Series

  by Jennifer Hendren

  Chapter 1

  The roar of the crowd echoed in my ears as David's hand slid beneath my T-shirt. From the stands overhead, students were chanting a raucous rendition of "We've got spirit," egging the opposing fans into a shouting match. The support beam at my back vibrated with each movement from above, and random snatches of conversation drifted down to us.

  I listened as a gravel voiced man described the finer points of blitzing.

  This definitely wasn't the right place or time.

  I tore my mouth away from David's eager lips.

  "We should go back to the game," I whispered.

  "You promised, Mac." David's warm hands swept across my skin and my resolve wavered when his teeth nipped at my neck.

  "I know, but..."

  His tongue found the small hollow behind my ear; a tingling sensation shot down to my toes, and my fingers reflexively curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

  Applause spread through the crowd above us and a moment later a voice over the loudspeakers announced our team had pulled to within two touchdowns. A miracle without Ty.

  Ty.

  My eyes snapped open.

  I pushed against David's chest and squirmed out of his reach. Caught off guard, he staggered forward and grabbed the post for balance.

  "Let's go back," I said, pulling down my T-shirt and smoothing it over my stomach. It was unseasonably warm for October, and the heat had drenched both of our bodies in perspiration. Our activities hadn't helped the cause.

  "Besides, someone might drop their Coke on us," I said, spying my discarded letterman's jacket on the ground. I draped it on a crossbeam and focused hard on brushing the dirt from its thick wool. My voice was unsteady. With deep, even breaths, I willed my blood to cool. I couldn't—wouldn't—look at him until I had myself back under control.

  I never should've let him talk me into coming down there.

  The place was too disgusting for words. It reeked with the stench of discarded food and an unidentifiable muck I didn't want to analyze too closely. Besides, it hardly seemed fair to make out with one boy when I was thinking of another.

  As though reading my thoughts, David turned away from me. The field lights leaked through the slats, falling across his blond head.

  "Do you want to do this?" he said, rounding to face me.

  "Of c-course I do," I said. "I—it's just...Homecoming's soon. We said we would wait."

  "No, Mac. You said." His blue eyes seemed to cut right through me.

  "I know—I'm sorry, but..."

  I'm not ready.

  "It's just..." I swallowed hard and gestured at our surroundings. "This isn't the right place..."

  As if to illustrate my words, a container of nachos slipped through the boards a few feet away and landed with a loud splat. Cheese and chips flew in all directions. A string of swear words followed from above.

  A large glop of cheese landed on David's pant leg. He glanced up then back down at me and laughed.

  "Point taken," he said.

  The tension in my shoulders eased. Pulling him by his hands, I backed us toward the opening in the stands.

  He stopped us short. "Homecoming, Makenna. No more excuses."

  I didn't know how to respond, so I simply nodded.

  "Let's go find Vince and the others," I said. "It sounds like our team needs a few more cheerleaders." I flashed him a smile I didn't feel when he followed behind me.

  We pushed through the student section. The opposing team was preparing for their fourth down, and whoops of excitement broke out when our team managed to sack their quarterback to take back possession. All around us, people sprang to their feet. I stood on tiptoe to scan the red and white jerseys flooding onto the field. Number seventeen wasn't among them. I rocked back on my heels and cursed under my breath.

  Ty still wasn't there. Eight minutes until the half, it didn't seem possible. He never missed a game.

  Our row was packed, and Vince Reznick shuffled back a level to make room for us.

  "Guess I don't need to tell you how shitty we're doing," Vince said before plopping down on the bench seat. He handed a thermos to David, and I tuned out their conversation so I could search the players again.

  Our team was struggling without Ty, and the crowd let out a collective groan when our back-up receiver fumbled our first pass attempt.

  "Jesus, that guy sucks." Vince sprang to his feet and cupped the bill of his baseball cap. "Fucking O'Neill! Where is he?"

  At some point in the evening, the first fifth of alcohol had appeared. Passed amongst my friends, the vodka started to loosen tongues, their owners no longer caring what they said or who they insulted. No one was safe—not the freshmen girls sitting a
few rows up, nor the parents crowding the section across the aisle. Now even the players were fair targets—even those not at the game.

  "Seriously, where the hell is he?" Vince paced on the bench seat. He looked like an overgrown two-year-old pitching a fit. "The guy had to choose tonight to flake out?"

  "Why doesn't he just shut up?" I mumbled under my breath, pushing the proffered thermos of vodka away yet again.

  "Ty let us down, Mac. Face it." David breathed on me. I fought the urge to turn away from the warm fumes. Hopefully, these guys knew better than to light a match.

  Another missed pass.

  "Jesus! I'm gonna kill him!" Vince roared from behind us.

  David draped his arm over my shoulders; I tensed.

  "Relax," he whispered.

  I squirmed away from him, his body heat near suffocating at this point. "I need a Coke."

  I pushed through the crammed row of students and descended the stairs quickly. Once down, I pressed my back to the stairwell and closed my eyes until the heaviness around me began dissipating into the night air. The full moon hung in the distance; I focused on it until my breathing steadied.

  A whistle blew, and I forced my attention back to the field. Our team had ended their drive by kicking a field goal. People began surging toward the food stands, half-hearted applause the best they could muster.

  My best friend, Jenna Nichols, stood near the fence line getting ready for the half-time show. Several players ogled her legs beneath her short cheerleading skirt as they passed by her on the way to the locker room. She'd certainly earned a reputation with the team. Last time I'd bothered to count, she was on her third boyfriend recruited straight from the starting line-up.

  I tapped her on the shoulder.

  She swung around, her wide smile faltering for a split second when she saw it was me. "Oh...hey, Mac."

  "Hey, guess you thought I was Mike, huh?" The varsity basketball player in question stood talking to friends a few feet behind me. He was her current crush—heaven help him. She'd probably been hoping her magnetism had drawn him out of the stands.

  The center's dark head went in the direction of the snack bar, and Jenna's cool blue eyes watched him go. "Don't worry. I'll get him if it's the last thing I do." She arched her back, sticking her voluptuous chest out even farther. "No one can resist these babies."

  Her laughter was deep and throaty, and I had to admit she was probably right. Next to her, I always felt like a prepubescent boy. I struggled to keep from dropping my eyes for a quick comparison.

  "Listen, have you seen Ty?" I scanned the throng of players again.

  Jenna bent to pick up her pompoms, flashing her rear end at the crowd. Several wolf whistles rang through the air and she flushed with pleasure. She was such an exhibitionist.

  She straightened, sending her blond ponytail swinging. "Nope. I heard some of the players talking, though. He's in deep shit for missing the game."

  I chewed on my lip. "This is so weird."

  "That he missed the game or that he didn't tell you?" Her words dripped with satisfaction. He'd been a sore spot between us—forever. Somehow I was to blame for Ty being the one boy in school she couldn't sink her claws into. It was ridiculous.

  "Have a good show," I said, refusing to get drawn in. In my current mood, I might blurt out just how Ty felt about her. Jenna wasn't likely to take the words "superficial slut" well.

  With a little finger wave, Jenna lined up behind the other cheerleaders and flounced onto the field as a rap song blared over the loudspeakers. Twitching their hips like pop divas, they were a huge hit with the crowd. I watched them for just a moment before heading toward the concession stands.

  Standing away from the crowds so I could hear above the steady buzz of voices, I called Ty on my cell.

  "This is Ty, you know what to do."

  "Ty, it's me, Mac." I pushed a finger into my ear and walked down the fence line. "Where are you? I...call me, okay?" I flipped my phone closed and stared across the football field. Where the hell was he?

  "Shit," I muttered, kicking a loose patch of dirt at my feet.

  By the time I stepped into line at the snack bar, the crowds had thinned. The greasy smell of pizza and french fries wafted out to me. Distracted by my thoughts of Ty, I failed to see Kim Urwin and Melanie Hoffs ahead of me. They had their heads together, whispering about Lord knows what; I tried to move away before they saw me.

  Too late.

  Kim flashed me a smile over her shoulder. "Oh hey, Makenna."

  Crap.

  I stepped back in line behind them. "Hey."

  "It's a pretty good game so far, don't you think?" she said.

  I glanced at the scoreboard. We were down by eleven points. "Yeah, it's great."

  Kim beamed. "I love football."

  A small smile touched my lips as I regarded her through lowered lashes. She wasn't unattractive per se, but she wasn't pretty either. Her standout feature was her auburn hair. It was similar in color and length to mine, and Jenna liked to tease me about it, saying Kim and I were twins separated at birth. It had to be her favorite joke of all time.

  What really stood out about Kim, though, was her general niceness. We hadn't been close for years, but it didn't seem to matter to her. No amount of teasing from Jenna or my other friends ever deterred her. She was the same old Kim. Nice. Friendly. Even with all that had happened between us.

  The girl beside Kim was another story. I chanced a quick peek at my watch—anything to keep from looking at the petite brunette. I could feel Melanie's eyes on me, though, and they weren't exactly friendly. While Kim let things slide, Melanie clearly hadn't forgiven me for our broken friendship.

  I fidgeted nervously, glancing to the head of the line to see what was holding up the show.

  "We aren't keeping you, are we?" Melanie asked.

  "Not at all," I said, hoping I didn't appear as panicked as I felt.

  "Don't tell me you're all alone," Melanie laughed. "I didn't think your friends let you do anything by yourself."

  It was a direct hit, and she knew it. I swallowed, relieved when I saw another window open. "Enjoy the rest of the game."

  I muttered a hasty goodbye and cut over to the next line.

  "I wish you wouldn't do that to her," I heard Kim say.

  Their conversation continued in heated tones, but I couldn't make out Melanie's response. Just as well. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what she had to say about me.

  No longer thirsty, I dumped my drink and headed away from the football field. Once outside the perimeter fence, I placed another call to Ty. His voicemail picked up again. I clapped my phone closed without leaving a second message and trudged my way up the grassy hill leading to the main school building. The voice over the loudspeakers faded to an indistinct hum, an occasional surge of applause splicing through the steady drone of the marching band.

  Eddington High School was one of the oldest schools in the state, spanning several acres, and there weren't many lights along the path. Luckily, the moon was more than enough to light the way.

  I entered through a door on the west side. The building was blessedly silent, and the stall door in the restroom sounded like a gunshot blast when I slammed it closed. I laughed to myself nervously, quickly finishing and then washing my hands. My hair had seen better days. Frizzing auburn tendrils stuck to my sweaty forehead, and I splashed cool water on my cheeks.

  When I reached for some paper towels to dry my hands, the lights went out.

  "Shit."

  I clutched the porcelain sink before me, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Dim light filtered in through the windows, but just enough to create eerie shadows in the mirror. A faint, ghost-like creature took shape in the reflection. A small squeak escaped my lips before I realized it was me.

  "Get a grip," I whispered with a laugh, watching my pale arms move in the reflection.

  I waited for what seemed like forever, but the power didn't blink back on. The light was coming from som
ewhere, though, which meant the field lights were still working. Either I could brave the dark building or wait until morning. Easy choice.

  I groped my way back out into the hallway, moving slowly and trailing my fingertips along the wall for guidance. My footsteps echoed against the tile and seemed to ricochet off the metal lockers lining the corridor. Faint light peeked through the open doorways leading to the classrooms, and I used the intermittent patches to help feel my way through the school.

  In the gloom, the place no longer seemed as peaceful. In fact, it was downright freaky. Especially the open doorways I passed. In horror movies, that's where the killer always lurked.

  Happy thoughts.

  Just as I rounded a turn in the hallway, I heard someone keeping pace behind me.

  I stopped, relieved to have another person stuck in the building with me.

  "Hey. Do you know what happened to the lights?" My voice came out extremely loud in the still building. The footsteps stopped.

  I squinted, tried to make out any movements. All I saw was inky blackness, but it felt like someone stood just outside of my periphery. "Hello?"

  Nothing. I slid my fingers along the cool surface of the lockers lining the wall and peeked back around the corner. The corridor was empty—at least as far as I could tell.

  Had I imagined the footsteps?

  After a moment of listening to the heavy silence, I continued walking, only to have the sounds resume. Light footsteps, not far behind me.

  "Who's there?"

  Again, no response came to me from the darkness. I studied it, intent on picking out some telltale sign of whoever was there. Then I heard it. A soft, whisper of a breath. Close.

  "Who's there?" I asked again.

  My only answer was the soft breathing. A shiver inched its way across my skin, and I retreated backwards. "This isn't funny."