By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) Page 9

  Sometimes I liked to sneak up to the turret, using the key my mother didn't know I'd copied from her ring. It was my refuge—private and peaceful.

  I met Melanie outside the archway leading to the tower. Tucked behind a thick door reminiscent of a medieval castle, the small room containing the stairs was a favorite meeting place for students looking to fool around between classes. David and I had spent many lunch periods ensconced in the alcove. I tried to push all such memories out of my mind as we entered. With almost a spiritual reverence, neither of us spoke as we climbed the dusty steps up to the upper clock turret.

  We reached the door at the top landing. A large sign marked the inner room as restricted. I hesitated on the threshold, my key a secret I wasn't prepared to share.

  "The night Kim died, that thing—that monster—chased me into the tower," Melanie began.

  Her voice echoed inside the enclosure. All of this was really happening.

  "We saw you that night—at the football game. Do you remember?" She looked at me with shining eyes.

  I nodded.

  The scene had played out in my dreams so many times. In them, I'd see Kim's smile fade, her face reduced to carnage, hear her musical laughter turn into screams of agony. I could only imagine the horrors she saw in her mind's eye.

  A sense of urgency seemed to envelop me, but I didn't try to rush her. Whatever she was about to tell me was of the utmost importance, and she could take whatever time she needed.

  "Some of the things I'm about to tell you won't be easy. In a way, I feel like I'm betraying Kim in doing so." She paused. "She was my best friend and I won't have anyone thinking badly of her. Is that clear?"

  Her tone served as a brief reminder of the adversarial relationship we'd always shared.

  "Is it?"

  "Yes," I said, the sting of guilt rushing across my cheeks.

  Melanie nodded and sat on the brick ledge of a window facing the courtyard. Left with no other option, I leaned against the wall beside her and waited for her to begin.

  When at last she did, her words were soft. I craned to hear them.

  "Kim used to talk about the old days—before high school, before we all drifted apart." The corner of her mouth lifted. "I think she would've given anything for everyone to be friends again." She paused as though weighing her words. "You figured into a lot of it, you know?"

  "I did?" The question came out a dry rasp.

  "I honestly can't say how she felt about you. Some days I think she hated you, others she seemed almost obsessed with every aspect of your life—how you styled your hair, what clothes you wore, who your friends were, and who you dated." She glanced out the window as if incapable of looking at me. "She wanted to be in your group so badly. I think—I think she wanted to be you."

  I tried to digest her words. The fact anyone would envy my life seemed completely alien to my ears. I was no one special, and Lord knows I was just as screwed up as the next person. More so, probably.

  "Why are you telling me all of this?"

  She continued as though I hadn't interrupted. "The night of the football game, she watched you and David go beneath the bleachers. I was always telling her she shouldn't focus on you so much, but she...well, she never listened. When you came out, she immediately recognized something was off."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Kim was obsessed with you, Mac. Not even the smallest difference in your expression could fall under her radar. It took her awhile, but she eventually figured it out."

  "Figured what out?"

  "You went in wearing your jacket, and came out without it."

  I started, my mind scrambling. "My letterman's jacket?" Now that I thought about it, I hadn't worn it since. Yes, I'd picked it up and draped it over a beam. But I hadn't left with it.

  "The very one. As soon as the game was over, Kim insisted on retrieving it. In some weird way, I think she thought she would impress you by returning it." She held up her hand to silence me. "She was acting so weird that night. She put on the jacket and..." Her eyes clouded. "She wanted to be you so much."

  "Oh," I said softly. The words pressed heavy on my chest. I fought to breathe.

  "We argued. I left her behind and was halfway to my car when I heard her scream." Her voice caught. "I've never heard anything like it before—pure fear and then pain." She raised her hands over her ears as if to block out the memory of the sound. "It was over before I could get back to her. Oh God, the blood."

  "I'm so sorry," I said.

  "That thing must've sensed my presence. Then I was running. I could hear it behind me, could almost feel its breath as it gained on me. I knew it would catch me eventually."

  A tremble went through her.

  I felt a coldness settle within me. Our experiences mirrored each other so closely.

  "Somehow it got in front of me—cut me off from my car so that the only option I had was the school. I don't know how I did it, but I managed to get inside, up the stairs, and into the turret room. I holed up here for the rest of the night. Until the morning...until daylight."

  "How did you get in?"

  She choked on her laugh. "Half the school has the key, Mac."

  "But why didn't you leave?"

  "Because that monster made it quite obvious it was still here."

  She swiped a sleeve across her eyes and motioned toward the door. I followed her line of sight.

  The door leading to the clock turret was of the same ilk as the one from the entrance, albeit smaller in size. A small tank probably couldn't plow its way through the barricade. Melanie had made a wise decision in coming up here.

  I moved closer and my stomach did a slow roll when I saw the markings etched into the smooth grain of its surface. Dozens of parallel lines ran up and down the length of the wood, the strength required just a bit more than making the same cuts into someone's flesh. Ty's flesh.

  They weren't the frenzied marks of an animal trying to get to its prey. No, these were precise, calculated to spark and stoke the fear of the person on the other side.

  "It stayed here the entire night. Just when I thought it might have left, the scratching sounds would begin again."

  I traced my fingers along the indentations. "It was taunting you."

  "Exactly."

  "Do you have any idea who it could be?"

  Her thick lashes lowered to hide her expression and my heart fell. It seemed like insurmountable odds stood in the way of finding Kim's killer.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "But we do know one thing. Whoever it was has it out for you. Big time."

  I jerked my head toward her again. "What makes you say that?"

  "Isn't it obvious? Kim was wearing your jacket."

  My thoughts took off in all directions at once. I shook my head. "I refuse to believe that. Why would anyone want to kill me?" Even as I spoke, I knew how absurd my argument sounded. After all, by my logic, who would want to kill Kim? And the story fit—especially after my experience with the shadow creature that same night. Even knowing this, my mind couldn't wrap around the idea someone would want to harm me. "We don't even look alike."

  "No," Melanie agreed. "But you do share one common feature."

  To demonstrate her meaning, she pulled a lock of hair away from my shoulder. It separated and slowly fell back in place. The soft light through the window set off the various shades of russet, red, and gold found in the strands. The same color as Kim's hair.

  "From the back, I bet it would be impossible to tell you two apart."

  Her words hung in the air for the longest time.

  "How did Ty know I was in the library yesterday?"

  I closed my eyes, my thoughts too muddled to remember. Then it hit me. "He smelled you." My mouth dropped open. "The jacket."

  She nodded, her face solemn. "Your scent would've been all over that thing."

  Two forces raged within me: My rational mind that argued such a stupid thing as forgetting a jacket was something I couldn't blame myself for. And my hea
rt that refused to accept such an excuse. If I'd retrieved the damn thing myself, none of this would be happening. Kim would be alive and...you might be dead. I tried to convince myself it didn't matter.

  As though reading my thoughts, Melanie shook her head. "Don't for one minute believe I wished it was you instead of her."

  I tried to gulp down the knot of guilt lodged in my throat. "I don't know what to do. Maybe we should tell someone."

  She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah, they'll believe us. Why do you think I didn't report Kim's murder? I knew if I told them the truth, I'd get a ticket to the closest loony bin."

  I knew she was right. Our hands were tied.

  "You said you're convinced it wasn't Ty," she said. "Is there really any way to know that for certain?"

  Her tone didn't hold any reproach. I searched my mind for even the smallest piece of evidence to prove him innocent. "No. But he didn't...he couldn't have."

  "Then there's something. We just have to figure out what."

  She tapped a finger against her chin. I marveled at her ability to keep it together.

  "Tell me everything—how you found out he was a werewolf, what he knows—everything."

  Bolstered by her take charge attitude, I slowly recited all that occurred—leaving out details of what was happening when Ty came upon David and me in the woods. I sped over that part, and although her brow quirked up in question, she thankfully didn't press for further information. I told her about Ty's scars, about him appearing in the cellar and his return to normal in the morning. I left nothing out, giving every last detail I could remember from the night of the game, hoping something would trigger her recollection.

  "He had his eyes in the wolf form." I looked up hopefully. "Did you see the werewolf's eyes?"

  She shook her head. "It was too dark."

  My shoulders slumped. "That's everything."

  Melanie paced the room. "If only I'd gotten a better look at the thing. It seemed like it was skirting out of the light every chance it got—with its black fur, I could barely even see it moving in the shadows."

  I jolted to attention. "What?"

  She paused. "What what?"

  "The werewolf had black fur?"

  "Dark as midnight. Like I said, I could barely make it out."

  I clutched her arm. "Ty's fur was brown."

  We exchanged stunned expressions that slowly spread into looks of exhilaration as we both nodded our heads in unison.

  "I'm positive," I said.

  "Me too." She smiled. "It wasn't Ty."

  In my excitement, I crushed the small girl in a tight hug. We both squealed with delight and jumped around, behaving like complete buffoons at this bit of news.

  The heavy sound of the turret door swinging open interrupted our impromptu celebration. Caleb Martin stepped out, followed by a cloud of cigarette smoke that seemed to linger around him like the dirt hovering over Pigpen from the Snoopy cartoons.

  He frowned when he saw us, black hair hiding his full expression.

  "What were you doing up there?" I said, my lip curling. Unbelievable. Did everyone have a key?

  His eyes flicked from me to Melanie. "Let me guess—pity-party of outcasts?" The corner of his mouth lifted as he brushed past us without waiting for a response.

  I watched him go, a sharp sliver of fear piercing my chest as several pieces fell into place. When we heard the lower door thud closed behind him, I turned to Melanie. "You said the werewolf's fur was black?"

  Her eyes hardened as my insinuation sank in. "I did."

  Chapter 9

  Ty turned pale under his tan when I filled him in on all the details Melanie had given me. When I went over the bit about my jacket, he grasped his steering wheel tight, knuckles turning red and then white as he listened intently. By time we got home, his eyes were flashing in anger.

  "You're saying whoever killed Kim was trying to kill you?"

  I gulped, wishing I could give him a different answer. "That's what Melanie thinks. And well, with what happened when the lights went out that night..."

  He turned off the rumbling engine and we sat in silence for a long time. Mouth pinched into a firm line, he looked straight ahead, completely lost to his own thoughts. My fingers played with the small evergreen tree hanging off his dash. Its fresh scent wafted through the interior. I longed to roll down the window to breathe in the real thing. The enclosed space seemed to press down on me.

  "Are you mad?" I asked finally, unable to bear the quiet any longer.

  "You're positive it wasn't me at the school?" His eyes searched mine, pleading with me.

  "We're positive, Ty. There's no way it could've been you."

  He released his grasp on the steering wheel, and we both exhaled slowly.

  "I'd kill myself if I thought I'd tried to hurt you," he said.

  "Don't say that. I'm here, I'm fine. Even if you had been the one, you wouldn't be to blame. You said yourself you have no control over it."

  "Yeah, but I'm only a wolf at night, Mac. Do you really believe I wouldn't hold myself responsible if I hurt you?"

  His voice was so full of gloom. I couldn't help the twinge of fear that crept into my heart. Would he really try to harm himself?

  I took his face in my hands and fixed him with my sternest glare. "You haven't done anything wrong, and we aren't going to let you have the chance to hurt anyone. Do you hear me? We'll find a way to help you, or by God, I'll tie you up myself."

  "Even so," he whispered, "there's still the other one."

  I nodded, the urge to tell him my suspicions about Caleb at the forefront of my mind. But I couldn't—not right now. "You're right. But I can only handle one werewolf at a time."

  A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Now serving number..."

  I pressed my hand over his mouth. "We'll figure this out."

  "We better," he said, hesitant. He ran his fingertips along my cheek as though to verify I was indeed okay. "Soon."

  I wanted to take him in my arms and reassure him everything would be okay. To kiss away the frown and deep worry lines etched into his brow. I licked my lips as we slowly leaned into one another.

  Movement at the rear of the car interrupted, and I pulled away with a jerk, forcing a smile to hide my irritation. A blue hatchback rolled to a stop behind us. "Good. Reinforcements are here."

  "Huh? Hello? Kissing...I was about to kiss you."

  "Melanie. She's offered to help us." I scuttled across the seat, but paused at the door. "You'll be okay working with her, won't you?"

  "Why wouldn't I be? She only tried to stab me to death." He muttered the last under his breath.

  "Can't we just let bygones be bygones?" I flashed him a brilliant smile, my heart rate slowly returning to its regularly scheduled program.

  He fixed me with a hard stare.

  "Okay, maybe not...but she really wants to help. It's her way of making up for what happened."

  "Fine, but hide the scissors."

  If Ty had been wary of Melanie, she was downright afraid to face him. It took her a good fifteen minutes to actually look at him, but with a little prompting—i.e. a kick from me under the table—Ty slowly got her to relax by exchanging a few pleasantries with her. When they seemed to be on the right track, I felt we were ready to move forward and get down to business.

  "As I see it, we have three objectives. We need to figure out who attacked Ty and killed Kim—that's assuming it's the same person." I conveniently left out the attack on me. No use pushing Ty again. "Second, we need to figure out a way, if any, to cure a person of their...wolfiness."

  That got a small snort from Ty.

  "And finally, we need to somehow cure them both."

  Ty and Melanie both frowned.

  "What do you mean cure both?" Ty said. "This other person killed Kim—tried to kill you."

  "Yes, but you said yourself you have no control over what you do during the full moon. What makes you think it's any different for this person?"
/>   "Because whoever it was targeted you specifically?" Ty crossed his arms. "I'd say that's a pretty big point in the "don't cure" column. I'll agree we need to find him or her, but only to put them out of commission."

  "You mean kill them?" Melanie's eyes were wide as saucers.

  "That's exactly what I mean." Ty had that stubborn set to his jaw that I knew well. There would be no way to convince him otherwise. Not that it would stop me from trying.

  "So, say you kill this person," I began. "What happens to you afterward? You think you can just walk away from something like that? Even if you go unpunished, could you live with yourself? I know I sure as heck couldn't."

  "Okay, I'll play." Ty's eyes held a challenge. "I don't kill the person. What makes you think whoever it is will want to be cured? And who's to say he won't try to kill you again? Do you think I could live with that?"

  "Uh, guys..." Melanie's head lolled back and forth between us.

  "You think I'd be able to live with you getting carted off to prison for the rest of your life?" I stood my ground, matching the challenge in his eyes with one of my own.

  "If I don't kill this guy, you may not live to regret anything."

  "Okay, knock it off!" Melanie yelled. "God, are you guys always like this?"

  Startled, we both looked at her in surprise. "No," we chorused.

  "Good. I was afraid I'd have to gag you both."

  The corner of Ty's mouth twitched. I fought hard to suppress a smile of my own. Neither of us would've ever thought she possessed such a commanding voice.

  I raised a brow at Ty. He winked in an unspoken truce.

  "That's better," she said. "Now. First things first. We need to find out everything we can about this condition, and how we might go about detecting one of these things. We'll worry about what to do with them after we find the guy, girl, person, whatever!" She swiped an errant strand of hair out of her red face. "Are we good with that?"