Shadow of the Moon

by Rachel Hawthorne

Daniel hadn’t given me a precise time to meet him, but somehow I sensed his arrival.

  I got out of bed and crept to the window. Peering out, I saw him at the edge of the tree line, sitting on my silent snowmobile. The roads leading into the national forest would be closed to vehicles. With indirect routes we could get there traveling over the snow.

  In truth I probably should have kept going until I reached an ocean or another country. Instead I’d reached Athena and decided to stop for a while, to earn some money, get my bearings, and make plans for where to go next. I didn’t think I would have decided to return to Wolford. But that’s where I was going.

  A light snowfall had begun. The sooner we left, the better.

  With determination to get on with it, to face whatever had to be faced, I moved away from the window and pulled on my clothes: jeans, T-shirt, sweater, jacket, gloves, hat, and boots. Everything else I needed was stuffed into my backpack.

  I hadn’t said good-bye to anyone, hadn’t told anyone I was leaving. It would have been too difficult, might have required explanations and assurances. I knew everyone would understand. Athena was a place where friendships as temporary as the snow made their home. The majority of the people who were here now would be gone within the next few days. The thought made me feel not quite so different.

  I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed down the stairs. On the kitchen table I left the note I’d written: Heading back home. Thanks for everything.

  Thanks for keeping your emotions to yourself, I’d thought but not written. The neatly printed words seemed inadequate, but I had nothing else of myself to leave behind. I slipped onto the deck, locking the door behind me. The moon had begun its descent, so it was darker now than it had been when I’d come outside with Daniel the evening before. I could see only the outline of his silhouette and distant lights from the street reflecting off the snowmobile. His determination to protect me, even with risk to himself, touched me deeply. But it wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want anyone sacrificing themselves for me.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have run from Wolford. Maybe I should have expressed my concerns to the elders. But that night I’d been shaken and terrified. Escape had been the only thought running through my head. I still wasn’t sure going back was the right thing to do. But I’d give it a chance.

  I could see paw prints circling around, moving in and out among the trees. Daniel no doubt, keeping vigil all night. I wondered why he’d felt the need last night and not before. Maybe he’d expected me to make a final break for it. I was glad the snow drifting down would cover the evidence of his prowling. I didn’t want anyone to grab a rifle and go searching for whatever had made the prints.

  He didn’t say anything as I approached. What was there to say?

  He started the snowmobile as I swung my leg over the seat and settled in behind him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pressed my cheek to his back. As we launched forward, I fought not to look back.

  But nostalgia got the better of me. I watched a place where I’d been happy and safe disappear behind a curtain of snow and distance.

  We traveled until long after nightfall. With the first shift came the ability to see at night. Even in human form we retained some of our animal tendencies. While the snowmobile had headlights, I knew Daniel was relying more on his instincts to cut around trees and avoid rocks or mounds of snow that might be hiding some hazard.

  We’d stopped three times throughout the day at little out-of-the-way gas stations to refuel the snowmobile. I’d made use of the restroom and grabbed snacks and beverages. We were taking a trail that led through the wilderness into the national forest. We weren’t going to run across any small towns or other evidence of civilization. I didn’t doubt for a minute that Daniel could provide for us, but it wouldn’t be my preferred diet so I indulged when I could.

  The moon had risen high in the black sky when Daniel finally brought us to a stop in a small clearing. I slid off the back of the bike, stretched my cramped muscles, and inhaled deeply. I could smell the sharp tang of evergreens.

  I watched as Daniel dragged to the middle of the clearing the bundle of supplies that had been strapped to the snowmobile. “I’ve never been camping,” I confessed, “so you’re going to have to tell me what to do.”

  “You’ve never been camping? What about when you ran off?”

  “Just kept going until I reached Athena.”

  “Do you know how dangerous that was? How many accidents happen because people fall asleep—”

  “I’m not in the mood for a lecture about what I should have done. How can I help?”

  He located a large flashlight. After turning it on, he handed it to me. “Keep the beam directed where I’m working.”

  I knew he probably didn’t need the light, but I found it comforting. He began digging through the snow to get to the ground. I knew he was making preparations for a campfire.

  “Wouldn’t you be able to dig more quickly if you shifted? You know? Use those paws to burrow down to the earth?”

  He glanced up and grinned. “But then I’d have to shift back to take care of everything else. Besides, I’m making progress.”

  I studied him as he made short work of clearing an area of snow—as though he needed to prove that he was as capable in human form as in wolf form. While I was feeling pretty useless.

  “If you don’t need the flashlight to finish setting up camp, I’ll go find us some wood.”

  Standing, he dusted the snow off his gloves and clothes. “Don’t go far.”

  “If I was planning to make a break for it, I’d have been gone before you showed up this morning.” Without waiting for him to reply, I headed toward the trees. A lot of dead branches were still attached to trunks. I snapped them off until I had a good armload, then I carried them back to our camp.

  The bundle of supplies was now resting open in the snow. Daniel stopped working on the tent and helped me arrange the wood in our little pit. His movements were sure, confident. The quiet around us was interrupted with a crackle as the first sparks began to take hold.

  “There,” he said, unfolding his body and dusting off his hands again. “That should get going and warm us up.”

  I placed my hands toward the emerging flames. The air was crisp with cold, and the heat from the fire was reaching out to me. “I guess working as a forest guide you do a lot of camping.”

  “Pretty much every night last summer.”

  We worked together to finish putting up the small tent. It would hold one person comfortably. Two, not so much. I wondered if he was planning to keep watch.

  From the bundle he’d carted over earlier, he grabbed a bag and brought it over to the campfire, which was now roaring. He set out a plastic tarp. I dropped onto it. He reached back into the bag.

  “So what’ll it be?” he asked, holding up a can. “Vegetable soup?” He held up another can. “Or vegetable stew?”

  I laughed. “Stew.”

  Before long I was drinking the stew from a mug that we’d use later for coffee or tea or hot chocolate. The wind had begun to pick up, whistling through the trees.

  “So…did you have a mate…before you left Seattle?” I asked.

  “No.” He peered over at me as though unsure about how much to reveal. “I dated,” he continued, “but there was no one who ever struck me as the one.”

  “So no tattoo.”

  Again a slight hesitation. “I have a tattoo.”

  “What? Just for fun?”

  “It means something to me.”

  “What’s it mean?”

  “My search, I guess, my search for someplace to belong. It starts at the back of my shoulder, goes down my bicep.” He touched his right arm, as though he could feel it through his clothes.

  I wondered if he’d ever share it with me. Strange how much I wanted him to, even though I was not going to accept him as my mate. I felt a need to fill in the silence stretching between us. “So you’re in college?” I slapped my forehead.
“Ugh. I can’t believe I asked that.”

  He grinned. “What? Why?”

  I smiled at him. “It’s like the number one question I got asked in Athena whenever a new group of students arrived for winter break. It always seemed so unoriginal.”

  “It’s a good question, though. Yeah, I go to college. I want to get into law enforcement at some point.”

  Shifters often lived and worked among the Statics, but even then we had our little pockets of society. Yet Wolford was recognized as our main hub. It was where those who had first come to America had settled. It was a place that all Shifters could call home, even if they’d never been there.

  “Guess this isn’t how you wanted to spend your winter break,” I said, feeling a little guilty that my running away may have ruined whatever plans he’d had.

  “I didn’t have any plans,” he said as if reading my mind, and I realized he was much better at figuring me out than I was at guessing what he thought or felt. “Although I’m thinking of taking up bungee jumping next winter.”

  I laughed, remembering my comment to him that first night about bungee jumping. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to join you.” I realized we were talking as though we’d both be around next winter. As though everything would turn out okay. “Back at Athena I kept feeling like I was being watched.” Before he could answer, I said, “And not by you. I always felt a pleasant sensation when you were watching me. This other feeling I got…it wasn’t pleasant at all.”

  “I didn’t notice anything when I was looking around.”

  I nodded again. “I’m probably just paranoid.”

  “Under your circumstances I would be, too.”

  “I wonder why now? How it found us?”

  He placed another log on the fire. “If you keep thinking about it, you’re not going to be able to sleep.”

  “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep anyway. Like I told you this is my first time camping. It’s nice out here, but it’s also kinda creepy. I mean, it’s just us. I feel sorta small, insignificant.”

  “How could you have never gone camping?”

  “I was never a guide. When I was at Wolford, I stayed in the manor. And at the boarding school the girls were more into pajama parties than roughing it out in the wilderness.” I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the outdoors. But”—I glanced back at the tent—“if a bear shows up, that’s not a lot of protection.”

  “You’re safe. Bears hibernate in winter.”

  “Okay, then, a cougar. I know they’re around. I heard one attacked a Dark Guardian last summer.”

  “Yeah, Rafe, I think. But you don’t have to worry about it. That’s what I’m here for.” He leaned in, his eyes warming me as much as our fire, his full lips parted slightly, his gaze roaming over my face as though he intended to memorize every curve and line. “As for your observation that there are only the two of us—I kinda like that.”

  Then his mouth covered mine.

  All thought was eclipsed by the hunger of his kiss. It was as though he’d never be satisfied, he’d always want more—or maybe those were my feelings, my thoughts. What I did know, without a doubt, was that he drew me in, made me crave more than my solitary existence, made me want these wonderful feelings and sensations.

  Drawing back, breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead to mine. “You say you won’t accept me as your mate, but you never push me away when I kiss you.”

  I could barely think when he kissed me. How was I supposed to set up defenses and push him away?

  “You confuse me. Daniel”—I shook my head, trying to clear it—“I don’t want to, but I like you.”

  “That’s a start.”

  “This is such a bad idea.” Such a bad idea. Whenever I was at Wolford, I would feel Shifters falling in love. I would experience the tenderness, the excitement, the yearning. Through others I understood the power of affection, how it made them alter priorities, lose sight of goals. How nothing mattered more than the person who was loved. It had always made me feel so incredibly alone. Had left me wanting so badly to be accepted by a guy for what I was: a Shifter with empathic abilities. I’d believed no human could ever accept all that I was. I’d feared no Shifter would either. And here I was beginning to feel as if I belonged—belonged with Daniel. I couldn’t afford to care for him this deeply. He couldn’t afford for me to care for him this deeply. I had to resist the temptation, the lure of accepting him as my mate. Of wanting to bond with him when my full moon arrived.

  “I’m really tired,” I said. “Tomorrow’s going to be another long day. I should go to bed.”

  He leaned back to study me more closely, to judge the truth of my words, maybe. I recognized the hurt of rejection in his eyes at my abrupt topic change. Quickly his emotions changed, became unreadable, as he returned to protector mode, putting his duty above his heart. His first duty was to get me back to Wolford at the elders’ request.

  “Yeah, you should,” he said. Abruptly he got to his feet. Without him there, I swayed slightly, threw out my arm to save myself from face-planting in the snow.

  “You sleep in the tent,” he ordered. “I’m going to keep watch.”

  It hurt to hear his voice so flat, absent of even the faintest glimmer of teasing.

  “Daniel—”

  “You should hurry. I can feel a storm coming in on the wind.”

  Only then did I notice that the wind had picked up and that snow had begun falling again. I thought there was probably something I should say, but anything would be inadequate. I unfolded my legs and stood. “You want things I can’t give you.”

  “You don’t know what I want because you can’t feel my emotions.”

  I couldn’t experience them inside me, but I was discovering that I was still aware of what they were. “Good night, then.”

  I slipped into the tent but didn’t zip it all the way closed. I left a small peephole. I watched him bank the fire. When he was finished, he strode to the edge of the camp, to the shadows. I could see only his silhouette, but I knew he was removing his clothes. Then he ran into the forest.

  I waited for him to return. I was still waiting when sleep overcame me.

  NINE

  I awoke with a start. I lay still, listening to the sounds of the forest. Because of the moonlight dancing over the top of the tent, I knew it was still night. I didn’t know what had disturbed my slumber. Then I heard a howl, a lonesome baying at the moon.

  I wondered if it was Daniel.

  The howl came again. For all I knew it was a real wolf. But if it was Daniel and I just happened to be out taking a stroll and our paths crossed—

  Throwing back the top of the sleeping bag, I grabbed my fur-lined walking boots and pulled them on. I shoved my arms into my jacket and pulled my knitted cap low. After scooting over to the tent opening, I peered through the small hole I hadn’t zipped all the way earlier. The fire was nothing except smoldering embers. The site appeared deserted. I snatched my flashlight from my backpack, unzipped the tent opening, and crawled out.

  Crouched, my arms wrapped around my knees, I remained still and listened. With my first transformation all my senses would become more acute. I’d noticed as I got closer to my full moon that some of my senses were becoming more acute, but they still fell far short of what they’d eventually be.

  There was a stillness to the night that reminded me of the way Daniel sat in the chocolate shop. Awaiting something. A calm before the storm.

  The air was crisp, with a biting chill. The snow was falling lightly. The wind kicked up and died and kicked up again, as though it couldn’t quite decide what it wanted to do. A little like me where Daniel was concerned. I could see his clothes still resting where he’d discarded them earlier, now dusted with snow. So he was still out on the prowl.

  Maybe it was his howl I’d heard.

  The trees awash in moonlight were gorgeous. The landscape had a romantic feel to it. The kind that demanded exploring, I th
ought, as I shoved myself to my feet.

  And with any luck maybe I’d run into Daniel, catch a glimpse of him in wolf form. Unfortunately enough snow had fallen and wind had swirled to erase his tracks. I didn’t yet have the ability to follow by scent. But I headed off in the direction that I’d seen him take earlier.

  By now he’d probably circled around, returned to camp a couple of times, and gone back out on the hunt. I had little doubt he was searching for meat. It was more difficult to locate in winter, but I knew he’d find it. Funny how after only a few days I had absolute faith in his survival skills.

  The only real sound I heard was my footsteps sloshing through the snow and my breath as the force of it increased with my movements.

  As I eased between two evergreens, I came up short at the sight of a big black cat several yards away. A panther. Emitting a low, deep purr, it was rubbing its shoulder against the bark of a tree. It reminded me of how I’d stretched languorously and sighed when I’d splurged and gotten a hot stone massage at the spa in Athena.

  The panther was facing away from me so it hadn’t yet picked up my scent. I’d read somewhere that panthers were really leopards without their spots. But in North America leopards existed only in zoos. So where had this one come from?

  It was so large and muscular that it had to be fully grown. Had it once been someone’s exotic pet that had been set free? Were there others in this area?

  I knew there were mountain lions and cougars in the woods near Wolford, but I’d never heard of a black one, so I thought this was a real panther. Shifters weren’t exactly on friendly terms with cougars. I didn’t know if they were natural enemies of wolves, but I knew that our scent was slightly different from a real wolf and that cougars tended to attack Shifters.

  I didn’t know how a panther would react. I was half tempted to approach it, remove my glove, and pet it, just run my fingers through the fur that reflected the moonlight dancing between the branches. But I knew they were predators and meat eaters. And I knew better than to approach a wild animal.

  Suddenly it whipped its head around. It was too far away for me to see its eyes clearly, but I felt them locked on me. The panther went low to the ground, growled deep in its throat, and bared its sharp incisors.