Shadow of the Moon Read online

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.