By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) (30 page)

"You didn't say anything about that."

"Didn't I? Oops." She gave him a toothy
grin.

"You suck." He ran a hand through his hair.
"Jesus. Turn around."

Melanie and I smothered grins as we kept our
backs to him.

I recited the presidents in my mind when I
heard the rustle of clothing falling to the ground behind us.

Wet footfalls crunched and stopped, replaced
by a heavier sound that could only have been Ty dropping to the
ground.

"Now what?" he said.

I jumped at the sound of his voice as the
image of what lay behind me fought for domination of my thoughts.
"Uh...do you feel any different?"

"I'm freezing my ass off, but other than
that, no."

"You need to roll around," Melanie said.
"Your entire body needs to get wet."

Melanie lowered her flashlight and quirked
her brows up when we heard the distinct sound of someone thrashing
about in the grass.

A loud groan came from behind us. "This isn't
working. I don't feel any different."

"Give it a few minutes. Maybe it takes a
while," I said.

"I feel like a complete idiot."

"Ty..." I hated to hear the disheartened tone
in his voice.

"I know. I'm rolling."

I shivered, a vicarious empathy for how cold
Ty must be. After a few minutes, I asked, "Anything?"

"No."

"Damn," I said softly.

Melanie gave me a tight smile. "We had to
try." She handed me a blanket and gave my shoulder a gentle
squeeze. "I'll give you guys a few minutes."

"Thank you."

She pushed through some low-lying branches
and disappeared into the thick trees.

Once she was gone, I swiveled around and held
out the covers. Wrapped in the thick wool, Ty turned to face the
nearly full moon.

"We'll try something else." I fought the
tremor in my voice. There wouldn't be a next time until after this
moon cycle.

"Next time, can clothing be a
requirement?"

"I'll see what we can do."

With a quick jerk of his head, he motioned me
over to where he stood. He draped a strong arm around my shoulders
and pulled me close. "I'm freezing."

A small laugh escaped me as I wrapped myself
around him and held on tight.

The clang of the shackle locking into place
around Ty's wrist echoed in my heart. I ran my fingers gently
beneath the unforgiving metal. The contrast between the iron and
his velvety skin stirred the emotions I barely held in check.

"We should pad your wrists first," I said, my
voice thick.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Mac, but it
won't matter." Before I could argue with him, he added, "Besides,
we have to make sure there's enough give for when I change."

With his free hand, Ty grabbed the chain
attached to the ceiling and pulled with his full weight. It held
firm, though a light fall of dirt rained down to dust our
shoulders.

"Do you think it will hold?"

He jerked the restraint again. "I hope so."
His green eyes met mine, but he wouldn't allow me time to succumb
to my fears. "You better lock my other arm. It's almost dark."

I immediately went to work, struggling with
the latch on the metal cuff as Ty softly whispered instructions. At
last, it snapped shut and I stepped back as he once again tested
the give. Dressed in a pair of dark grey gym shorts, he looked like
a modern day Christ waiting for absolution. The deep cuts on his
chest, which had returned that morning, were raw and shiny. I
turned away, unable to bear the sight before me.

All of our hard work had been for nothing. In
the end, we hadn't been able to cure him. In the end, we were right
back where we started.

The guilt of it all weighed heavy on my
shoulders. I'd distracted Ty too much—split his attention with a
million irrelevant things that no longer seemed important. Now I
had to chain him in a pit and leave him completely defenseless.

"You should go." Ty's voice was low and soft,
a gentle plea in his tone.

I ran a hand over my mouth to hide the slight
tremor in my lips. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I promise to stay put." His attempt at wry
humor landed with a thud; he immediately looked repentant. "I'm
sorry. No more jokes."

"Good." I tried to lighten my tone. "Remember
I have you at an advantage. Misbehave, and I can do whatever I want
to you."

He grinned. "Anything?"

I tried to smile, but failed as a tremor
stole through me again. Our eyes locked and held.

He motioned me over with a jerk of his chin.
"Give us a little kiss before you go."

I went to him, running my fingertips along
the slopes of his chin before kissing him softly on the lips. He
buried his face in my neck and we stood for a long time, cheek to
cheek, both reluctant to be apart. I knew if I didn't leave him
then, I wouldn't be able to go. I took a deep breath and memorized
the smell of him—that certain Ty scent mixed with sweat and the
woodsy outdoors.

"Stay close to your parents," Ty whispered,
his lips warm as he pressed a kiss against my temple.

I turned and quickly ascended the stairs
without looking back. I barred the cellar door and set the small
alarm that would alert me if the door opened some time in the
night. Melanie waited outside and gave me a reassuring smile as we
secured the building with yet another alarm.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
Melanie searched my face. In the gray light of dusk, her face was
almost white, the slight smattering of freckles across her nose
standing out even more than usual. She looked scared. This was the
last place on earth she wanted to be, but I knew she would stay if
I asked.

I shook my head. "No."

My reasons were numerous, but mostly I needed
to be alone. Just for one night, I didn't want to filter my
emotions for the sake of another person. When tears came, they
would be shed in privacy.

"You'll call me if anything happens?" Melanie
said, glancing nervously at the shed and back at me. "I can be here
in less than ten minutes."

"You're on my speed dial."

She squeezed my arm and hurried up the drive
to her car parked at the curb. She cast me one last wary glance
before driving away.

The sun hung low in the trees, weak rays
breaking through the nearly bare branches. A slight breeze scuttled
stray leaves across the asphalt, the only sound in the growing
twilight. The world seemed to be waiting with bated breath for some
dormant unrest to rise and break free from its constraints. I
wrapped my arms around my torso and tried to stay the impending
doom taking root in my chest. If only I could know the path we'd
chosen was the right one.

I paused and watched the small shed, trying
to imagine what Ty was thinking, what emotions coursed through him
in that moment. I struggled with the urge to release him and
finally forced myself to turn and head inside my house. Once there,
I secured the locks, and with a determined set of my jaw, vowed to
uphold my end of the bargain.

If my parents noticed my sudden
attentiveness, they didn't comment. I stuck with them the entire
evening as the darkness grew and eventually consumed the daylight.
I dressed in jeans and a baggy cardigan that hid the capture gun
tucked in my waistband. Luckily, they didn't notice. In my pocket,
the small beeper that would alert me to a breech in the shed's
security drew my attention every few seconds—a talisman against the
fear.

The sound of tree limbs brushing against the
house, the wind shaking the small wind chime hung on the porch, and
every passing car served to hone my anxiety to a razor sharp point.
It was almost a relief when my parents called it a night and we all
retired to our rooms. Once inside mine, I made sure to double check
my locked windows and drew the curtains. Then I pressed my back
against my headboard and laid the gun in my lap. Sleep didn't find
me until almost dawn, my eyes at last giving up the fight.

I awoke with a jerk when the alarm went off.
My heart crashed into my throat as I groped for the gun. It had
slid off my lap at some point and I'd rolled over on it. Freeing it
from my thick comforter, I darted to the door before realizing it
was my alarm clock beeping and not the pager, which lay soundless
in my pocket. I leaned against the door trying to catch my breath
as my terror subsided.

Thin streams of light penetrated the tiny
slits in my curtains and I pulled them back to a new day. I slipped
on my tennis shoes and hurried out to the shed. The door remained
secure and my hands shook slightly as I fumbled with the lock and
alarm. The latch of the trapdoor proved even more difficult, and my
voice caught as I yelled out Ty's name.

"I'm okay."

Relief flooded through me and I at last
managed to get the door open. I rushed down the stairs.

He looked tired. Dark patches rested beneath
his eyes and his face was covered in light stubble. But he was
alive, and that was all I cared about. My fingers couldn't release
his shackles fast enough. When at last one arm was free, he crushed
me to his chest and kissed me hard. "I was so worried," he
whispered.

He ran his hand down my cheek and I covered
it with my own. "I'm fine. Nothing happened."

He rested his forehead against mine. "Thank
God."

I waited as he dressed, but soon he was back
at my side, both of us reluctant to let the other out of their
sight. I didn't know how we'd make it through six nights of this.
Just the one had seemed to stretch to eternity.

We both walked through our day at school on
edge and in a state of wary alertness. Whenever we came within any
sort of distance of one another, we were together, our hands
seeking the comfort of a light touch or caress to know the other
was really okay.

When the school day mercifully ended, Ty and
I drove out to the lake again. With only a couple hours of daylight
left, we simply held onto each other and listened to soft music as
the sun sank lower and lower.

I expected leaving him to be easier that
night. It wasn't. My anxiety grew to a fever pitch as I locked him
in. This time, when Melanie offered to stay, I took her up on it. I
couldn't be alone again.

o0o

Melanie's heavy breathing filled my room as I
lay staring at the ceiling. The illuminated green numbers on my
clock read one-seventeen A.M., but I couldn't sleep. A knot of
anxiety grew in my chest to the point where I felt suffocated by
the pressure of it. Something seemed off—a menacing force on the
precipice of hurtling toward me out of the dark.

As quietly as possible, I pulled on shoes and
a jacket and slipped out the back door, not bothering to turn on my
flashlight. The nearly full moon lit my way as I hurried to the
shed, careful to move lightly through the brittle leaves covering
the ground. I remained hypersensitive to any noises in the night,
and felt sure something would jump out at me at any moment. Nothing
did. When at last I got inside, I breathed a sigh of relief before
barricading the door from the inside. It wasn't the most secure,
but it would have to do.

I could hear him even before I reached the
trapdoor. A steady rumble not unlike an idling car. As I got
closer, the sounds grew more agitated, the steady hum rising in
sharp crescendos. He was as aware of me as I was of him.

I swung the door open on its creaky hinges
and shone the light down into the hole. I descended a few steps,
slowly, trying not to provoke him any further.

He was bigger than I remembered. His russet
body seemed to take up the entire space, the restraints around his
wrists and ankles seemingly insufficient to hold his massive form
in place. He pulled at them, the sinewy muscles in his arms
straining against the chains. They creaked with the pressure, but
held firm.

A low rumble hummed in his chest,
occasionally swelling into a forceful growl. His deep green eyes
followed my movements as I swung the door closed and locked it from
the inside. I swallowed hard and continued to the bottom of the
stairs. Once there, I rucked up my sweater and removed the gun. He
drew back when he caught sight of it, but quickly calmed when I
laid it on a step and moved out of its reach.

"I don't know whether you'll remember this in
the morning, but I had to come." I spoke softly, but loud enough
for his twitching ears to hear. In the back of my mind, I wondered
whether he could read my very thoughts. His impossible senses
seemed capable of such a feat.

Twice I tried to reach a hand out to touch
him, each time drawing back as my nerves got the better of me. I
was shaking slightly when I finally pressed my fingertips into his
soft fur at chest level. He recoiled slightly, but I wouldn't let
him retreat. Moving closer, I pressed my palm flat as I tried not
to shrink away from his face, so lethal and close. His lips peeled
back, revealing sharp teeth. When his head dipped forward, I willed
myself to stand still.

The end of his nose pressed into my neck and
I heard him inhale slowly. I was his for the taking if he so chose.
At any moment, I expected the blinding pain to begin as he ripped
into me. He did nothing more than trail his nose up to softly
nuzzle at my ear.

Heart pounding, I retreated until I hit the
wall at my back.

With my eyes clenched tight, I said a silent
prayer.

I framed him in a small circle of light and
spoke firmly. "Tyler Adam O'Neill. Tyler Adam O'Neill. Tyler Adam
O'Neill." I repeated the mantra long after I knew it wouldn't work,
each rendition growing fainter as my dry throat forced out the
hoarse words. All the time, he watched—my voice quieting him as the
night pressed on.

o0o

Melanie shook me awake the next morning. I
flipped over, my head full of cotton and incapable of getting up
yet. She finally yanked the covers off of me and split the curtains
so the sunlight shone painfully into my eyes. God, she was worse
than any mother.