Hidden Moon (Nightcreature 7)

I turned onto the narrow road that tilted upward at a sharp angle, winding through spruce trees so thick and overgrown there were times I couldn't see past the brush of their boughs across my windshield. When they parted, the house appeared like a castle before me.

I don't know why I thought the thing resembled a castle, as it was built of wood, not stone. No turrets. No moat. No dragon. In truth, Grace's house resembled something you might find on the front of a Halloween card.

Not that it was broken down. I doubted it was even haunted. But the way it rose up out of the high, narrow ridge, shining white against the ebony night, with a gabled roof and. . . were those bats circling the chimney?

At least she was home. The windows were ablaze with light, her cruiser parked next to the toolshed.

I probably should have called, but after seeing the wolf I hadn't wanted to take my eyes from the road even to dial my cell phone.

As I stepped out of my car the sounds of the night surrounded me - bugs, the wind, a distant rustle. The space between my vehicle and the front porch loomed large. I slammed the door and hurried across it.

A bat swooped low, chasing those bugs, and I stifled a shriek. If I started screaming, I'd scare Grace to death. Although Grace didn't scare as easily as I did.

I reached the porch, thundered up the stairs, and rang the bell, hitting the button so hard the thing rang three times in a row. There'd be hell to pay if I dragged her out of the tub.

She didn't come. I glanced at my watch. Not even 10 p. m. Where the hell was she?

I rang the bell again. Then stood impatiently tapping my foot, straining my ears, trying to catch the sound of her approach.

I started to get nervous. Lights on. Car here. Maybe she'd fallen and she couldn't get up?

I jiggled the doorknob. Locked. Leaning over the porch rail, I peered into one window, then crossed the creaky wooden floor and peeked into the other. New furniture but no Grace.

I should go around back and see if I could get in that way. Glancing at the sky, I flinched as something flew past, making the silvery light of the moon flicker.

Taking a deep breath, I hit the ground running and was pounding up the back steps before I realized I'd gone the whole way with my eyes closed. Luckily, Grace hadn't added any lawn ornaments lately, or I'd be flat on my face in the grass, skewered by a grinning ceramic gnome.

I I knocked. No one answered. Tried the door.

Locked, again. Checked the windows. Nada.

"Damn. "

I pulled out my cell and dialed her number. Inside I heard the echo of the ring that played in my ear, over and over and over until finally her machine picked up.

"I'm not here. Leave a message. If this is an emergency, call - " Grace's voice recited the number for emergency services, though I was certain most locals knew her cell phone number, like I did.

I dialed that next and caught the faint drift of a ring - I turned and stared into the dense cover of the trees - out there. I waited for her to pick up, but she didn't.

Had Grace dropped her phone when she was taking a stroll? Had she dropped her phone after she'd fainted? Or perhaps when the wolf that appeared to be stalking us all had attacked.

I wished, not for the first time, that I carried a gun.

Then again, who knows what or whom I might shoot if I had one?

I crept down the steps, pausing as the phone stopped ringing and went to voice mail. I waited a few seconds, then hit redial, and when the ring, which was actually a song, "Stray Cat Strut," began again, I inched toward the edge of the yard.

The moon cast me in shadow, and I stared at my outline with a frown. I was hunched, cringing, and that would not do.

I straightened so fast my spine crackled. I would go into th

ose woods, find Grace, and deal with whatever had to be dealt with. My days of cringing and hiding were gone. I was the mayor; I was in charge, and I'd damn well act like it.

"Grace!"

I stood at the edge of the trees, with Grace's empty house blaring light behind me and the dark shrouded hills before me.

The mist tumbled down. Tendrils of white snaking through the branches, swirling, whirling, coming closer and closer, faster and faster.