By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) (12 page)

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 heart 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."

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.