Caged Moon Read online

  Caged Moon

  Rachel Deagan

  Haunted by an animal attack, seventeen year old Charlotte feels she is being followed. When she runs into a mysterious boy while camping, she’s afraid. Nothing seems right about him. Despite trying to stay away, there is an unmistakable draw to be near him. Even his scent smells familiar. But the closer she gets, the faster the secrets begin to unravel. Not only is he not human, he may have a link to her past. When Charlotte finds out someone wants her dead, she is torn between love and fear. Can she trust him to keep her safe?

  Rachel Deagan

  Caged Moon

  Dedicated to the person who inspired me to be more than I am. Thank you, Roxanna, for everything.

  Many thanks as well to my family, whose constant support has been immeasurable. You truly are a blessing.

  Chapter 1

  Something moved outside the window as I leaned against the chilly glass. The evening had set in, making it hard to see. I could feel them, watching me. I wiped at the small crystallizing ring of fog my nose had made from half dozing against the car door. Only the ominous clustering of trees streaked by as we drove. Goose bumps covered my arms and my body turned cold. It had been years since the wolves followed me. Why now? I wanted to hold my ears, half expecting their howls to ring in my head. How did they find me?

  A loud thump resounded off the windshield. I screamed. Thick black shadows distorted my vision. My fingers dug into the seat. The wheels screeched. The gravel ripped at the tires as we drove onto the road's shoulder.

  "Dad, we're going to crash!"

  I could hear Dad spinning the wheel, but I couldn't look away from the wildly flapping image in front of me. It shifted as the car moved, slid, then flew off into the trees.

  "Did you see that?" Dad asked.

  The car jolted back onto the road. I blinked, staring at my dad. "How could I not?"

  "It was a Great Horned Owl," Dad said.

  "What?"

  He leaned over the back seat, then dropped a well-worn North Eastern Bird Guide in my lap. "Here," he said. He reached up to the ceiling and flicked on the overhead light. We swerved again and I clutched the side door. "I believe it's around page thirty-two. You should see the Great Horned Owl there."

  Was he serious?

  I rolled my eyes and thumbed through the book. He apparently didn't realize we went off the road a moment ago. He gets a little focused, especially when it comes to birds. I welcomed the distraction. The chill on my arms faded, the wolves gone, at least for now.

  I obediently found the owl and nodded. "Ah." I tried my best to sound enthusiastic.

  "Do you want to hear its call?"

  He grabbed a CD and slipped it into the player. The car filled with numerous loud shrieking sounds as he fiddled with the buttons. "Here it is." He opened up the window and began hooting and shrieking along with the CD. Did he really think the owl would call back?

  Next time I would down play the enthusiasm by a few notches. Distraction or not, I already had a headache.

  Dad finally admitted that it was too dark to see anything, and turned off the CD. I sighed and returned to my position, leaning against the glass in an attempt to doze.

  "This move is going to be great for us, Charlotte. Your mother's going to love it out here."

  "She likes birds attacking her car?" I smirked tightly, but the joke fell flat. I looked out the window and held my arms. I didn't like the woods. I blamed it on my suburban upbringing, but in truth, it just scared me - moreover, what lived in it.

  Dad glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "Well, we're only a town away, but it's too late to get the keys from the realtor tonight. It'll have to wait until morning. So," he said, turning to me, "are we camping or going the hotel route tonight?"

  He spun the wheel around before I could speak, making a sharp U-turn. "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "There's a campground right back there."

  I groaned. Not another Dad Adventure.

  My chest felt tight. I hated feeling so paranoid.

  "Oh, come on. It's our last night. It'll be fun."

  I'd have better luck convincing a cat to swim, so I fought down my nerves, and went along. "Sure, Dad."

  He proudly took a turn down a long, winding dirt road that led into the woods. With no streetlights, I couldn't see a thing. Claustrophobia strangled me.

  A small flickering of lights soon appeared and I sighed with relief. The small club house, if that's what you would call it, was nothing more than two oversized trailers someone had put together to resemble an office. The hand painted sign, withered from years of weather, swung back and forth from a chain attached to a small wooden post out front. I would have thought the place deserted, if I hadn't heard the sudden trickle of male laughter coming from behind the office.

  Dad pulled the jeep to a stop and I eagerly swung my door wide. Not in anticipation of staying there, but because my legs killed me from the drive. The scent of sulfur and burning embers hit my nose.

  "I wonder where everyone is," Dad said, rubbing his index finger along the crook of his mustache as he joined me.

  "They're out back, Dad. Can't you hear them?"

  "Ah," he said. "Must be my bad ear. I can't hear a thing."

  He started towards the make shift office, and I shrugged, following along behind him. Three burly looking men tending a fire looked up just as we came around the back. The fire crackled and several ashy smelling sparks flittered up into the air. Each of the men had a beer in their hand and several more littered the small stone circle of their camp.

  I began looking for our quickest escape route. I probably could make it to the car if I had the keys ready in my hand. Of course, I didn't. My father had them in his pocket. Thoughts of crazed woodmen and gruesome murders flashed across my mind.

  "Aye, we've got company," one of the men exclaimed, lifting his can in greeting. "Care to join us?" He flicked the lid of his red picnic cooler open to reveal a hefty stash of beer.

  "Nah," my dad said. "Just here to spend the night. Do you have any camps available?"

  He was so clueless sometimes.

  "Sure thing." The spokesman stood up from his log. I already could hear the banjos playing in my head. He set his beer on a log and trotted over to us. The man towered over my father, and he was six-two. I felt very short. "Let me just get you the map."

  Yeah, like the one for the exit.

  The man came around to the front of the trailer and pulled out a large wad of keys, opening the squeaky old door, leading to the make shift office. The inside of the building matched the outside perfectly. A disheveled array of dishes, old clothes, and papers littered the small confines of the trailer. It also stunk really badly, so I hung back by the door. If my dad wanted to go in there with a strange drunk guy, his call.

  I turned to the woods behind us, suddenly very aware of its presence. It felt like every little shrub and leaf watched me. Something in me wanted to run, but logic told me I was being ridiculous. Even as a little kid I knew wolves didn't really follow people. So why now, after all these years, did it feel that way again?

  A hand landed on my shoulder, making me jump. "Ready Charlotte?"

  I tried to breathe normally and smiled up at my dad. "Sure, sure." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and led the way over to the car. My father roared the jeep to life and we followed another winding dirt road until we came to a tiny clearing with a small wooden sign indicating Lot 24A. It had a stone circle matching the one the men had sat around and something that looked like an RV hookup.

  I helped my father pitch the small green tent and then watched him build the fire. I hadn't seen any signs of the men, or wild animals, so I took the opportunity to slip into the tent and grab my toiletries before it got a
ny later. I headed over to my dad.

  "I'm going to go brush my teeth and clean up. Where are the bathrooms?"

  He placed his kindling down, and pulled the map out of his pant pocket. "Right here along this walking route. There should be flags. Just be careful."

  Now he's worried.

  "I will, Dad."

  Taking the map, I started out of the campsite down the dirt road. The beam from my flashlight fell on the red flag indicating the trail to the restrooms, and then fizzled out. I rolled my eyes with a groan and gave the handle a firm smack. Nothing.

  Lovely.

  The moon allowed a small sliver of its light to escape through the branches above me. I thought it enough to see, but my foot snagged on something. It snapped. I stumbled two steps and then lost my balance. My hands burned as I caught myself on the rocks.

  I sat there, half cocked on my hands and knees, welling in my inward disgust, when something wet touched my ear. Instinctively I jumped back, catching myself with my raw hands. It stung, but I didn't care. I could barely see.

  Wetness brushed my hand, and I let out a short high-pitched scream. My head felt light and then I heard a bark amongst the soft scampering in the leaves. My chest seized up. Dogs terrified me.

  The soft furry creature nudged his head against me, and I succumbed to another scream as I tried to back away. Laughter filled my ears and I clenched my teeth.

  The forest path lit up around me, making me blink several times until everything came into focus. A teenaged boy about my age, with ashy, slightly disheveled hair, and very striking green eyes, stood there with a flashlight, looking amused at my dire situation. My stomach tightened in a knot.

  "It's just a puppy," he said, revealing a surprisingly bright smile. I looked away.

  He grabbed the small puppy and brought it over to me, making me look.

  I scrunched my face up, trying not to scream. "I'm afraid of dogs," I said.

  He laughed again.

  I clenched my fists. "Hilarious. I'm glad you're enjoying the show."

  "How can you be afraid of this little pup?" He rubbed the riley little thing until it jumped up and licked his chin. He laughed again. "Come on," he said, trying to show me the dog.

  "Don't." I held up my skinned hand.

  "Okay, okay." He smiled again.

  I quickly looked down at the dirt I knelt in. Angrily, I stood up, brushing the pine needles from my knees. For some insane reason, this too seemed to make him laugh. I scowled.

  "What are you doing out here anyway?" he asked.

  "Digging for worms." I refused to look at him. I knew he was smiling. "I was looking for the restrooms."

  "Where's your flashlight?"

  "The batteries died."

  "Here, let me help you," he said, putting the dog down. He quickly shooed the puppy away and it eagerly ran off into the trees. He held out his hand.

  I refused to look. This was too embarrassing. "I don't need help. I'm fine, thank you." Brushing off my jeans, I started to walk past him down the path. As fate would have it, I tripped, again.

  I stumbled two steps, readying myself for the inevitable burn of my hands, when he caught my arm, pulling me up.

  I was about to say something. A grumble. A thank you riddled with annoyance. But all of my thoughts disintegrated into thin air as I accidently met his gaze. A flush of prickles ran down my back.

  He looked spooked. The smirky sarcasm disappeared. He tilted his head to the side, and audibly inhaled.

  "It's you," he whispered in a voice that seemed two octaves lower than it had been.

  His hand still gripped my arm as I stared back at his oddly mesmerizing green orbs. His irises pulsed, growing larger, blocking out the white with their intense jade, and then just as quickly, they shrunk back, melting into an almost iridescent hue of gold.

  My heart pounded like crazy and my body shook. What had I just seen? Flashes of the wolves screamed across my mind and I squeezed my lids shut.

  I'm going mad. I'm losing it.

  His hand seemed to burn against my bare arm. He smelled of rich pine, and I damned my senses, wondering why I was still standing there.

  "What's wrong with your eyes?" My voice surprised me. I stole a peek.

  "What?"

  He looked like I had startled him from a trance and he blinked a few times, clearing his throat. "Nothing." He shook his head and looked down.

  It felt like I could breathe again. My heart, unfortunately, didn't comply. I did my best to tune it out. "No," I said, pressing the issue, "not nothing. I saw them change. They used to be green. Now they're gold."

  I began to question my sanity. Perhaps if we had taken our time getting out here, I wouldn't be still standing here interrogating this guy.

  "The moon," he said, pulling me from my thoughts.

  "What?"

  He looked pale. He fidgeted next to me, making me even more edgy. He pointed his finger and I looked up. The moon, high above the branches, cascaded a soft hue over the multi colored autumn leaves. "My eyes sometimes reflect the light. The moon light probably hit them at a funny angle."

  I guess it made sense, but why did I still feel skeptical? I dared to steal another peek. His normal looking emerald hues stared back. The moonlight had to have been playing tricks on me. But why did he seem so nervous? He seemed ready to bolt.

  I stared at him until he looked up from his sneaker and our gazes locked. His body, mirrored mine, frozen. I could almost hear the rhythm in his chest. He cocked his head, fear and confusion plastered across his face.

  "What?" I asked. My voice sounded tight and foreign to me. Something very familiar pooled from his pores, strangling me like infused oxygen.

  I saw his nostrils expand and slowly, his irises began to dilate.

  This is not happening.

  The sound of his throat clearing made me jump. To my horror, he still had a grip on my arm. He seemed to notice that too. He dropped my arm, almost stumbling as he stepped back.

  "Who are you?" he asked, his liquid amber eyes wide.

  "What?" I told myself to make up a name. Sally Hemmingway sounded good to me. "What do you mean, who am I?" Everything in me wanted to run. "Who are you?"

  The boy roughly ran his hand through his hair. I could hear his breath coming ragged. With an odd hunched over stance, he began to move around me. I stood my ground. Prickles trickled down my back as I watched him circle me. His nostrils flared, creating a visible wisp of breath against the air.

  Every muscle in my body tensed.

  "What are you doing?"

  He didn't answer. He continued to move around me like a wild animal.

  Another shudder ran through me. I kept still, afraid to move.

  The boy stopped in front of me, his warm breath still blowing visibly. I did everything I could not to inhale it.

  "Who are you?" he asked again. The concern in his voice took me by surprise.

  "Charlotte."

  The word came out before I could stop it. I bit my tongue.

  "That's not what I mean. How did you get here? What are you doing here?"

  "I'm camping with my dad..."

  The boy closed the distance between us so fast I felt dizzy. I froze as he sucked in the air around my neck and up through my hair. I couldn't think. Something about the scent of pine and musk lifting from his skin, so familiar, yet distant, discombobulated my senses. No. No. This wasn't right. I didn't even know him.

  "Stop it," I said, stumbling away from him. I grabbed a fallen tree branch and aimed it at the stranger. "Stay away from me."

  He stepped back, shaking his head as if lost in thought. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. You just smell..." The boy shook his head again. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. I saw you earlier and I thought...never mind. You're not."

  "I'm not what?"

  "Nothing." He chuckled tightly and a small smile teased his lips.

  "Nothing? You're driving me crazy."

  "I am?" The grin
grew.

  Did he really think I was flirting with him? I scowled. "That is not what I'm talking about."

  He chuckled.

  "What's so funny?"

  "You."

  I looked away. I didn't need this.

  "Were you really going to take me out with a stick?"

  "I still might."

  I glanced at him by mistake - his grin ridiculous. I ground my teeth. Why did I look at him again?

  "What was all that about anyway?" I asked.

  "All what?" I could hear the chuckle in his voice. He knew exactly what I was talking about. So that was how he wanted to play this game.

  "All that circling and sniffing. You know what? Forget it. I don't want to know." I had enough. At this point, I just wanted to find the restrooms, brush my teeth, and go to bed. Hopefully I would wake up in the morning forgetting this entire night existed. Without waiting for a response from the stranger, I held my head high and started carefully walking past him, down the path.

  "Hey," he called after me. "You could use this."

  Slowly, I turned around to see him gently toss me his flashlight. "Thanks." I turned away from him. My cheeks felt warm. I didn't want to see his expression. With my head down, I started down the path.

  Chapter 2

  "You were gone a while," Dad said, not looking up from his fire. He had several long sticks dangling over the crackling blaze, each with several marshmallows attached at the end. "I was getting worried."

  "Sorry." I sat down on the log beside him, relieved to be back in a place of sanity. "Are we expecting company? What's with all the branches?"

  "Nope, just trying to get the perfect marshmallow." Dad chuckled. "This camp site is great."

  Dad found Eden. I wish I could have said the same. I wanted to curl up in my sleeping bag and forget this night existed. Turning off the flashlight, I placed it down along with my dead one.

  "Where'd you get the extra flashlight?"

  I sighed, not wanting to explain my strange encounter in the woods. "I found it." I stood up from the log. "Sorry, Dad. I'm really tired from the drive. I'm going to sleep."