By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) (10 page)

Ty bent to help her. "I'm sorry—I
thought..."

His words trailed off. It wasn't like he
could explain.

"Whatever," she said. With her books
collected, she continued down the aisle. We watched as she shelved
a volume at the end of the row then turned to go up the next.

I shot him a
what the hell?
look. I'll
give him credit for looking properly chastised. Grabbing his hand,
I studied the injury. The marks were already fading. I rubbed my
thumb across the area. "Looks like you'll be fine."

"Think I should be worried about rabies?"

I glared at him. "You're terrible and, I
might add, not very funny."

"Sorry," he said.

Despite everything, I felt a smile tugging at
my lips. "Idiot."

"Thanks, Mac."

I froze in the process of trying to
straighten the shelf of books Melanie had upset during their
struggle.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." His
hand brushed my cheek. My breath left me as our eyes locked. His
gaze lingered on my lips and, as if pulled by a magnet, we started
to drift closer.

A loud thud sounded next to us and we both
jumped. Several books had tumbled over on the metal shelf. We both
let out nervous laughter that broke the spell over the moment.

With a feeble wave of my hand, I motioned
back to our table. "We better get back to work."

Seated again, I pulled a large volume in
front of me and tried to ignore the prickly sensations coursing
through me. Eventually, my heart returned to its steady pace.

Getting back to work proved a bit difficult.
Despite the seriousness of what we faced, our eyes kept meeting
over the tops of our books. Small butterflies danced around in my
belly with this new found tension in the air.

The slow turning of pages and the occasional
scratching of a pencil filled the silence between us. When Ty
suddenly sat forward, I knew someone approached. In a way, his
abilities were reassuring. With him I'd be safe.

"It's me." Melanie said as she rolled a cart
of books into view. "Not listening, working."

The corner of Ty's mouth tipped up. We
continued to work in silence as she moved along the aisle replacing
books. I tried to give her the courtesy of ignoring her presence,
but my eyes were drawn to her regardless.

I suppose it's only natural to want to
dissect and examine why a person dislikes you. Friends throughout
grade school, we had slowly begun to drift apart in junior high. We
went from seeing each other every day to only the occasional get
together. Once we entered high school, the distance between our
circles had grown to a chasm—Kim and Melanie on one side, Jenna,
Carrie, and me on the other.

We never spoke but for the rare occasion we
were thrust together by happenstance. I knew nothing about her now,
and she knew nothing about me. How could that equate to us becoming
enemies? I didn't think I would ever understand it.

She moved down the aisle to where Ty was
seated. He caught me watching her, and I forced myself to focus on
the book in front of me. The creak of her cart stopped near his
side of the table and she unloaded several books, setting to work
on returning them to their proper places. Ty tapped a pencil
against the page of his book, and I dropped my eyes, having been
caught studying her yet again.

A laugh threatened to bubble out of me, and I
started to make a face at him. Froze. Melanie had turned to stand
behind Ty. Arms raised, something metallic glinted in her
hands.

Oh God.
She had a knife.

"Ty!" Time seemed to move slowly; it took an
eternity for the word to leave my mouth.

He jerked away just as Melanie's aim swept
downward. I screamed when the metal made contact.

Ty stumbled away from the table, his hand
pressed to his side. Bright red drops of blood fell on the floor
and my vision blurred out of focus. Biting my lip hard, I scrambled
out of my chair and stepped between him and Melanie.

"Put it down!" A slight tremor went through
my voice when Ty moaned behind me.

"He deserves to die for what he did to Kim."
Melanie's eyes were wild and the blade shook in her hands.
Scissors. It was a pair of scissors.

She lunged at him.

I jumped in front of her. "You can't do
this."

"Get out of my way!" Tears rolled down her
cheeks. "You didn't see her. You didn't see him!"

She tried to dodge around me, but I jerked
her back. In a flurry of limbs, she spun out of my grasp. Although
I outweighed her by a good twenty pounds, her size was working in
her favor and panic shot through me at the dawning realization that
eventually she might get away.

I rammed her with my shoulder, knocking her
off balance and into one of the metal bookshelves. She recovered
too quickly, though, and scrambled past me to where Ty sat slumped
against the wall.

In a panic, I grasped at anything I could get
a hold of. My fingers dug into her flesh as I used all of my
strength to fend her off. I yanked her backwards and she went down
hard. The scissors slid out of her reach. I kicked them away. They
grated across the floor and disappeared somewhere in the stacks, a
trail of blood following in their wake.

She lay in a heap on the floor, violent sobs
shaking her entire body.

I stumbled away from her and fell to my knees
in front of Ty. "Let me see." I pried his hands away.

His face was white. A deep gash to his side
oozed blood, the flesh torn away in a two-inch cut. I pulled off my
cardigan and bunched it into a ball. Pressing hard against it, I
willed the pressure to stop the bleeding. The warmth soon soaked
through the thick material.

"Hold on, Ty."

His hand covered mine.

"Oh God." It was cold. He needed help, and he
needed it now.

Sobs continued behind me. I craned my neck
around.

"Melanie. I need you to go get help." I
applied even more pressure, ignoring the tremor in my hands.

She pushed up on her elbow, her face streaked
with grime. "I'm so sorry."

"I need you to get help. Can you do that?"
Her face swam out of focus as tears flooded my eyes. "Please."

She stood up and froze. Her eyes widened
slightly as she took in the sight before her. "I'm so sorry. I
didn't mean...I don't know... Oh God, I think he's dead."

I whipped back around. Ty's eyes were closed,
his face slack. His hands lay limp on the floor. My own fell away
before I pressed sticky fingers against his neck, praying for a
pulse. When I didn't detect one, I laid my ear against his chest. I
couldn't make out a heartbeat.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Melanie's voice
echoed behind me.

I turned to face her, disbelief coursing
through me.

Her frightened eyes met mine. "K-Kim and I
were together the night she died. I saw...that thing and h-heard
her cry out for help. By the time I reached her, s-she was dead. It
tore her apart." Her voice broke and she sank to her knees. "Oh
God. I'm so sorry."

My chin trembled out of control. "It wasn't
him. I know it."

"W-when I heard you two talking..."

There was no need for her to finish her
sentence. I dropped my face into my palms.

A warm hand touched my back, and I started to
pull away, not wanting her comfort. When I glanced up, her eyes
were wide as she looked on—from about five feet away. A scream
ripped through my chest. I whipped around to find Ty's green eyes
blinking at me.

"Hey," he said.

o0o

My head pounded and distant voices called to
me, urging me upward through the murky depths of my mind. I didn't
want to listen. Here it was quiet. Here I was
safe
.

A blurry image played through my memory.
Something bad had happened and waking would only make it all a
reality once again. No, I wouldn't listen.

Like an annoying fly, the voice refused to be
silenced. With a sudden jar, the sounds became clear. My head
lolled to the side, shrinking away from the harsh tone and the
bright light I saw behind my lids.

"Mac! Wake up."

"No," I murmured, tears wetting my
cheeks.

"Mac, it's me, Ty."

My eyes popped open, and I willed them to
focus. Ty's face swam into view, worry sketched across his
features.

"Ty?"

He nodded and gave me a wide smile. It was
the most wonderful sight I'd ever seen. He was alive.

"Am I dead?"

"No." He edged an arm behind my shoulders and
helped me sit up. "You're going to be just fine."

Pushing away, my hands sought out his injury.
There was blood everywhere, but his skin was smooth and unmarred
beneath my fingertips. I gasped and pressed them around the area,
seeking what I knew had to be there. "Where is it?"

"Seems Melanie has uncovered yet another new
ability of mine."

At his words, I whipped around. Melanie sat a
couple of feet away, her face downcast.

Anger flared in my chest and Ty put a calming
hand on my shoulder. "She saw her friend murdered. Remember
that."

I sputtered, unable to believe he could be so
forgiving. "She tried to kill you!"

"I know." His eyes clouded. "But if what she
suspects is true, perhaps she had the right idea."

"Tyler O'Neill! Don't say that." Tears
flooded my eyes.

He pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry."

My fingers dug into his shoulders. "Don't you
dare give up."

"I won't. I promise."

Footsteps echoed on the stairs and a loud
voice boomed down at us. "What are you kids doing?" A pudgy
security guard stood just a few feet away, his mouth hanging ajar
at the image before him—the three of us covered in blood.

Ty and I did a good impression of deer caught
in the headlights. How would we explain our way out of this
one?

Melanie sprang to her feet. "We're practicing
for the school play, Carl." She shrugged as she surveyed the mess
before her. "Please don't tell Mrs. Lind, she'll have my job if she
found out."

Melanie was the perfect image of innocence. I
had to hand it to her; she diffused the situation with more grace
than I could've managed at such a time.

"You know you're not supposed to have friends
visit while you're working, Mel." Carl's eyes were wide as he
spoke. We looked like we must be re-enacting a scene straight from
a horror movie. I could almost hear his thoughts racing through his
head.
Damn kids, today. Freaks—all of them.

"I know, Carl. I'm sorry." Melanie grabbed my
blood soaked sweater. "Props are pretty amazing these days, aren't
they?"

He eyed it like it might catch on fire and
burn him. "They sure are." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and
he tugged at his belt. "Just make sure you clean up everything when
you're done. We're closing in fifteen minutes."

Melanie smiled. "We will. Thanks!"

When his back was out of sight, I let out a
sigh of relief. "That was close."

Melanie sank down in a chair, head in her
hands. "You two should go. I'll clean up."

Ty pulled me to my feet. The room spun.

With a steadying arm around my waist, he
helped me into a chair. "Are you okay?"

Unable to speak just yet, I nodded. With a
squeeze to my shoulder, Ty moved effortlessly around the room,
cleaning up his own blood with his half-soiled shirt. His tanned
skin still bore the memories of the injury. Crusted blood streaked
across the surface, pooling in the area where his wound should've
been. It didn't seem possible for him to be alive. I fought the
nausea rising in my throat. What if Melanie had succeeded?

Soft hiccups came from beside me. There was
such misery in the sound. I reached a tentative hand out and was
rewarded by a soft squeeze as Melanie took it. Her teary eyes
peeked through the wild strands of hair about her face and an
understanding passed between us. I couldn't explain it, but in that
moment I knew why she did it and found myself able to forgive
her.

"She was my best friend," she whispered.

"I know."

o0o

Bundled in Ty's heavy sweatshirt, I stared
blankly at the cell phone pressed into my hand.

"You need to call your parents. Tell them
you're running late so they won't worry," he said softly.

My fingers felt numb as I dialed my house,
mumbling a quick apology to my father for missing dinner and
failing to call. Luckily, he assumed I was with Ty the entire time
and didn't notice my stilted voice across the line. I closed the
phone. "Now what?"

"Now we go to my house to clean up. My
parents are out and there's no way I can send you home in that
condition."

I looked out the window as the town passed
by. Feeling like a complete baby for letting everything upset me, I
willed myself to snap out it. After all, it wasn't me who had been
stabbed—died—only to be brought back. But I couldn't seem to do it.
When Ty pulled into his driveway, I still hadn't uttered a
word.

Once inside, Ty gently pushed me into the
bathroom. "There's a robe hanging on the back of the door—shower
and we'll wash your clothes."

When the hot spray pounded down on me, I
willed my limbs to spring back to life. I didn't want to play the
helpless female—I needed to be strong.

I lathered my hair and basked in the familiar
spice of Ty's shampoo. It seemed very intimate to be in his shower,
his things surrounding me. When I wrapped his robe around myself, I
paused with eyes closed, taking in his masculine scent as I buried
my nose in the thick terrycloth.

Even though the robe skimmed the tops of my
feet, when I stepped into his room I felt almost naked before him.
A warmth spread through my cheeks and across my chest when he
turned from busily straightening his bedding. Here he was, my
childhood friend—my best friend—and I felt suddenly shy in his
presence.