Dark Guardian #4: Shadow of the Moon Read online

  Rachel Hawthorne

  Shadow of the Moon

  A Dark Guardian Novel

  For Anna Claire W.

  A very special fan. May you always be a reader at heart.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Fear sliced through me, jolting me awake. I was bathed…

  One

  “Here you go,” I said, smiling brightly as I handed…

  Two

  “I—I wasn’t r-running,” I stammered, then swore beneath my breath…

  Three

  “Are you totally insane?” I asked, forcing myself not to…

  Four

  Plan B involved traveling light.

  Five

  The next morning I woke up exhausted. Everything was unusually…

  Six

  Later that afternoon a light snowstorm hit, and I blinked…

  Seven

  My last day at the resort was uneventful. Daniel was…

  Eight

  I didn’t sleep. Instead I just lay in my bed…

  Nine

  I awoke with a start. I lay still, listening to…

  Ten

  I found it strange, two days later, when we crossed…

  Eleven

  “It was the most hideous thing I’d ever seen,” Seth…

  Twelve

  After breakfast the next morning we all gathered in the…

  Thirteen

  “Oh. My. God. Daniel.” I knelt beside him.

  Fourteen

  I opened myself to allowing in others’ emotions. I was…

  Fifteen

  The elders were less than thrilled with the fact that…

  Sixteen

  We took our time walking back to the manor. It…

  Seventeen

  It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. To say…

  Eighteen

  My heart heavy, I trudged through the forest wearing snow…

  Nineteen

  The Dark Guardians closed their circle around me. The hounds bared…

  Twenty

  We raced through the forest until we reached the cavern…

  Twenty-One

  Returning to Wolford the next morning was not the joyous…

  About the Author

  Other Books by Rachel Hawthorne

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  PROLOGUE

  Fear sliced through me, jolting me awake. I was bathed in sweat, trembling. Drawing in a breath was difficult. My chest was constricted tightly, painfully. The blood rushing between my ears almost drowned out the howling wind.

  It was happening again. Worse than anything I’d ever experienced.

  I’d been born with empathic abilities. When I was near other Shifters, I was bombarded with whatever emotions they were experiencing. If one was afraid, I felt his fear. If another was in love, I experienced her yearning, her desires. Anger burned through me, but I wasn’t mad. Embarrassment caused my cheeks to flush, even though I wasn’t the one who was mortified. Assailed with so many Shifters’ emotions was like living inside a constantly turning kaleidoscope, only the various colors were emotions. It made it difficult to know which ones were truly mine.

  But I was immune to humans, or as we referred to them, Statics.

  The elders—the wise men of our kind—had become my guardians after my parents’ deaths. Recognizing my constant struggle with my gift and the difficulty I’d experience being around other Shifters, they’d sent me to a boarding school where all the students were Statics. I’d been safe there, lived a somewhat normal life. While in residence there, the only emotions I’d felt were my own.

  But the elders had insisted that each winter and summer I return to Wolford, our secret gathering place hidden deep in a national forest. The elders thought short periods of exposure to the emotions of other Shifters would acclimate me to the empathic experience, would give me an opportunity to learn to shield myself when I didn’t want to know what others were feeling or to embrace the sensations without letting them overpower me when that was to my advantage. Why I would ever welcome others’ emotions was beyond me. It was such an invasion of privacy—theirs and mine. I’d never been comfortable with it.

  Two weeks ago I’d arrived at Wolford. Families had come for the winter solstice last week. It was a time for gathering, for celebrating our existence. So many heightened emotions were swirling around. And even though most of them were happy and filled with gaiety, it could still be overwhelming.

  The families had left a couple of days ago, but many of the Dark Guardians—the elite protectors of our kind and our hidden haven—had remained. School was out for the semester. My presence was partly a test, a challenge, an attempt to determine if I was yet ready to live among my own kind.

  Based upon what I was now experiencing, the answer was a resounding no.

  Never before had the emotions slammed into me with such stark intensity. Never had I known anyone to be this terrified. What in the hell was happening?

  The unnerving panic refused to relinquish its hold, wouldn’t let me clear my head enough to think rationally. Taking deep breaths, I tried to set up a shield between the emotions bombarding me and those that belonged solely to me. I brought forth pleasant images: butterflies and puppies and ice cream. A walk in the park during the spring—the image so vivid that I could almost smell the roses.

  But nothing worked. I was caught in a cyclone of someone else’s dark fears. I couldn’t control any of them. All I could do was experience them. Nothing, no one, could spare me from the horror I was subjected to.

  Light from a full moon spilled in through my window. I scrambled out of bed and dropped to my knees, my legs weakened by another’s terror. What was he—or she—afraid of? What was so frightening? I didn’t know who the emotions belonged to. I only knew they were there. I could get a general sense of where they were coming from. The person was outside.

  I shoved myself to my feet, lurched over to the window, and pressed my forehead to the cold glass. The bright white moon cast a silver glow over the snow-covered landscape. Someone was experiencing his first full moon. Justin. I remembered feeling his excitement and anticipation during dinner. It made sense that he was the one I was sensing.

  Tonight he would be added to the ranks of those with the ability to shift into wolf form. The first time was supposed to be painful and terrifying—could even result in death. Although it hadn’t, not for hundreds of years. In the past, a couple of times, I’d felt the emotions of someone going through his first shift.

  But what Justin was experiencing was different. It wasn’t natural. Something was wrong.

  Without thought to the harsh elements outside, without grabbing a coat, I rushed into the hallway and ran toward the stairs, yelling at the top of my lungs, “Justin’s in trouble! He needs help! Now!”

  Doors banged open. I heard the pounding of footsteps. Several Dark Guardians overtook me, raced past me. Only half a dozen or so were here in the manor. The others were out patrolling, guarding our beloved lair. I was hit with a carousel of emotions from those surrounding me and edging past me: worry, concern, fear, eagerness for the hunt, willingness to do battle.

  But above all the emotions, more intense than any of them, was Justin’s. Because I’d been connected to him before the others’ emotions joined his, I could still identify which sentiments were coming from him. I was homed in on him.

  I barely remembered going through the manor. Suddenly I was outside, the cold snow biting into my bare feet. Snow flurries whipped around me. Clothes were scattered over the lawn, and I watched in amazement as the Dark Guardians, never brea