"What if they do?"
"Stall them. I won't be long. "
Before I could argue, she stepped between two pine trees and disappeared into the steadily descending dusk.
I wasn't there two minutes when I began to get squirrelly. Where had all the people gone? When would they return? What would they th
ink if they found me here? What would they do?
To distract myself I began to walk around the camp, studying the wagons. Mostly tableaux of the moon, the stars, and fire, they were works of art in both carving and painting.
I reached the last wagon in the circle. Beyond that the animal cages faced away from the living quarters, perhaps so their occupants could enjoy the view of a forest they would never be allowed to roam.
While I'd strolled, the sun had gone down, spreading spidery tendrils of shadow across the land. However, enough light remained on the western horizon so that the clearing wasn't completely dark, but it would be soon.
I headed toward the nearest animal wagon, both excited to discover what lay inside and a bit scared for the same reason.
"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. " They wouldn't really be transporting any of those, would they? Tingling in anticipation, I rounded the corner. The wagon was empty.
Chapter 8
So was the one next to it. What the hell? A gap yawned between the second cage and another, which looked just as empty. I took a single step toward it, then spun when I heard something splash in the lake.
Now a lot of things can splash in the water. Fish jump. Turtles flop. In certain areas, alligators wind their way through the deep. But not here. In the winter these mountains saw snow. Not a lot, but enough to keep the alligators away.
Sadly, the volume of that splash had sounded more alligator than fish or turtle. I glanced again at the empty cages. Were the Gypsies out chasing escaped wild animals? Would Grace run into more than a wolf?
I suddenly wished I'd asked for a radio and, while I was at it, a gun.
Drawn toward the water, I moved past the living quarters until I stood at the top of the sandy incline that led to the lake.
The moon hadn't risen, or if it had, the silvery glow wasn't visible past the towering trees. The surface of the lake resembled an unbroken sheet of black glass.
Then a ripple began near the center; tiny circles spread wider and wider as it rolled toward the shore.
Panic gripped my throat. I fought the urge to run back to the car and drive away.
"Stop it," I muttered. There was nothing in a lake that could hurt me.
Unless we had a lake monster.
The thought should have made me laugh. Most reports of such things were merely sightings of muskellunge or bass large enough to have been birthed in radioactive waste.
However, standing out here, alone in the night where I didn't belong, I understood how people could believe in monsters.
Whatever had caused the swell broke the surface. At least six feet long, it streamed toward the sand in a smooth flowing motion, like a dolphin wiggling and wagging its seemingly spineless body beneath a late-summer sky.
The monster reached the shallows and rose, emerging inch by inch, until it became a man. Water flowed over broad shoulders, trailed down a smooth chest, twirling past a ridged belly, then trickling lower.
Malachi Cartwright lifted his hands and slicked his hair out of his eyes, the movement causing his biceps to flex, his abs to harden.
I couldn't speak, couldn't move, could only stare. It had been a long time since I'd seen a naked man, and I'd never seen one like this.
He tilted his face upward, breathing in deeply as if trying to draw the very essence of the night within.
I perched at the top of the incline; with no moon, no stars, no streetlights, I remained shrouded in shadow. Frozen, fascinated, I hovered.
The moon burst over the trees, cascading across the water like the sun. When it hit him he sighed like he'd found an oasis in the middle of the desert.