By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) Read Online Free PDF

birthday parties.
    Back then, we'd all been friends—allies who
enjoyed chasing after boys as much as we loved telling ghost
stories and playing with tarot cards and Ouija boards. I tried not
to look, but inevitably my gaze was drawn to Kim again.
    "Makenna!"
    I slipped the photo back in my book and
quickly checked my appearance in the mirror.
    There were dark shadows under my eyes and
slight worry lines around my mouth. Could I have stopped Kim's
death if I had reported the strange presence that night? I had no
answer, but deep down I feared I was at least partly to blame.
    Even before I reached the kitchen, I heard my
mother's and Mrs. O'Neill's hushed tones. Their topic of
conversation wasn't too hard to guess, or the fact that they didn't
plan on discussing matters in front of me.
    My father and Mr. O'Neill were standing over
my dad's sound system in the living room. An old Queen song blasted
through the speakers and the two of them were engrossed in a debate
about which of the band's albums was the best. I threw them a
feeble wave, and with a deep breath, pushed through the swinging
door leading from the dining room into the kitchen. The smell of
lasagna hung heavy in the air, thick and spicy, and the two moms
were chopping vegetables for a salad.
    "Glad you're here," my mom said a little too
brightly.
    I snatched a carrot from the pile before her.
I could play along. For now. "What's up?"
    "Would you mind setting the table, honey?
We're running behind."
    "Sure thing." I began pulling plates and
glasses from the cupboards. "Where's Ty?" I desperately hoped my
voice sounded casual.
    "He's not here?" Mrs. O'Neill asked. "I
figured you two were studying."
    I pretended not to notice the brief knowing
glance they exchanged, too embarrassed to contradict their
assumptions about our relationship.
    "Nope—haven't seen him." My voice wavered,
and I coughed lightly to clear the lump in my throat.
    "That's odd. His car's been here all
afternoon." Mrs. O'Neill frowned and started to untie her apron.
"I'll just run over and get him."
    "No—I'll go," I said, thrusting a stack of
plates into her hands. They both yelled after me, but I slipped out
the door before they could stop me.
    Twilight came too soon these days and there
was little light left in the sky as I made my way toward the copse
of trees separating our houses. Long shadows pitched the trees into
near darkness.
    As kids, Ty and I used to play hide-and-seek
in the thick foliage, neither of us daring to admit we were afraid
of the dark. In our pre-teens, we'd even shared our first kiss as
we dangled our legs from our hidden perch in one of the tall ashes.
It ended up being a disaster—all tongue and gnashing teeth. We both
left red-faced, vowing it was the stupidest thing we'd ever
done.
    We never told anyone, partly because I
threatened to kick his ass if he did.
    I knew the path to his house well, having
traversed it a million times over the years. Even so, I hesitated
at the edge of my yard. The dark thicket looked back at me,
suddenly menacing. I felt like a small child who has awoken to the
possibility of the boogey man lurking just out of sight.
    "Don't be stupid," I whispered to myself and
plunged into the trees. I held my breath the entire way, and at
last emerged into Ty's side yard. I glanced up at his dark window
and punched the back doorbell. He'd probably fallen asleep.
    When he didn't answer, I pounded on the door.
Nothing. I considered getting their key again, but a noise stopped
me. I cocked my head and listened, still shaky from my trip through
the trees.
    A muffled crash came from the tool shed.
    I quietly stepped inside the small building.
A loud grating sound assailed my ears. Ty was stooped over a
workbench as sparks flew in the air around him. He had a welder's
helmet and thick gloves on, but there was no mistaking him. Ty
always filled out a pair of jeans well, and the flannel shirt he
wore accentuated his broad shoulders.
    He was cutting up metal