Whispers at Moonrise

how far he’d go to get to her, how evil he was when he’d taken his own grandson’s life right in front of her. How could anyone be that wicked?
    She stared at the trees and watched as their leaves danced in the breeze. It was a completely normal slice of scenery that should have put her at peace.
    But she felt no peace. The woods, or rather something that hid within, dared her to enter. Taunted her to move into the thick line of trees. Confused by the strange feeling, she tried to push it away, but the feeling intensified.
    She inhaled the green scent of the forest, and she knew.
    Knew with clarity.
    Knew with certainty.
    Mario wouldn’t give up. Sooner or later she would face him again. And it wouldn’t be serene, tranquil, or peaceful. Only one of them would walk away.
    You will not be alone. The words echoed deep within her as if to offer her peace. No peace came. The shadows between the trees danced on the ground. Calling her, beckoning her. To do what, she didn’t know.
    Trepidation took another lap around her chest. She dug the heels of her shoes deeper into the hard dirt. The heel of her right shoe cracked—an ominous little sound that seemed to punctuate the silence.
    “Crap!” She stared down at her feet. The one word seemed yanked from the air, leaving nothing but a hum of eeriness.
    And that’s when she heard it.
    Someone drew in a raspy breath. While the sound came only at a whisper, she knew that the owner of this breath stood behind her. Stood close. And since no chill of death surrounded her, she knew it wasn’t from the spirit world.
    The sound came again. Someone fed life-giving air into their lungs. Odd how she now feared the living more than she feared the dead.
    Her heart thudded to a stop. Much like the grooves left in the earth by her three-inch heels, her growing dread left ruts in her courage.
    She wasn’t ready. If it was Mario, she wasn’t ready. Whatever it was she needed to do, whatever plan or fate she was destined to follow, she needed more time.

 
    Chapter Two
    “Are you … okay?”
    The voice. Not Mario. Derek’s voice.
    His familiar tone had her initial panic fading, but only for a second. I’m in love with you, Kylie. The words he’d spoken less than fifteen minutes ago flowed through her head, bringing with them another emotional storm that made her mind and heart spin. Derek loved her. But what did she feel?
    She shifted slightly, and the heel from her right shoe fell off, making her off balance. That’s how her life felt—as if it had lost a heel, and her only choice was to limp along.
    “What’s wrong?” His voice rang with concern.
    I’m fine. The words perched on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them. Derek, half-fae, could read her. To lie to him about her emotional state was futile. So she turned around and faced him.
    “What are you doing here without a shadow?” Derek asked. “You know you’re not supposed to be without a shadow in case that freakish rogue returns.”
    Meeting Derek’s gaze, she spotted the panic brightening his eyes. She knew the panic she saw was her own as well. When she hurt emotionally, he hurt. When she experienced joy, he lived it, too. When she feared something, he feared it for her. Considering her emotional state these last few minutes, he must be in hell.
    His chest expanded behind the fitted dusty green t-shirt. He held a hand over his hard stomach as he sucked air into his lungs. His dark brown hair appeared windblown, and his bangs clung to his forehead. A drip of sweat rolled down his brow. For a second, all she could think about was falling into him, letting his calming touch chase away the apprehension inside her.
    “Is it … what I said?” he asked. “If it is, I’ll … take it back. I didn’t tell you that to tear you apart inside.”
    One couldn’t take back an admission of love, she thought. Not if he really meant it. But she didn’t say that. “It’s not what you said.” Then she realized that, too, was a lie. His confession played havoc with her emotions. “Well, it’s other stuff, too.”
    “What stuff?” His words came out breathlessly. His eyes searched hers and she saw the gold flecks in his irises brighten. “I sense you’re terrified and confused, and—”
    “But I’m okay.” She noticed again his winded state, as if he’d just run a mile to get to her. Had he? “Where were you?”
    He took in another deep gulp of oxygen. “My cabin.”
    Over a mile. “You