MOONLIGHT LEGACY Page 14

  He sat down next to her. "Miranda, I just want you to know that I haven't given up yet. I'll get back to the books and try and come up with something else to help you. There has to be something I'm overlooking. I just have to find it."

  She reached over and patted his hand. "I know, Steven, and thank you for trying to help." She handed Hadden her cup and stood up on legs that were still a bit shaky. "I don't want either of you to worry about Drake. I'll take care of him. I'll convince him that it would be in his best interest to leave town."

  "No way," Hadden said. A thunderous expression clouded his brow. "I'll go talk to him."

  "No, Hadden, we just went over that. He will kill you, but I have a chance at making him see things our way."

  "I hate to admit it, but she's right again, Hadden. She's the most logical choice of the three of us."

  "I don't want her anywhere near that bastard," Hadden growled.

  Miranda tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not a case of what you want, Hadden. It's just something that I have to do. And he won't hurt me," she added. "I know that for certain."

  "She has a point, Hadden. Besides, how do you know where he is?"

  Hadden shot him a angry glare. "You're not helping matters. Besides, there's only one place in town for strangers, and that's the motel."

  Steven ducked his head. "Huh, sorry."

  Hadden turned back to Miranda. "What if you're wrong? He could become enraged enough to injure you. How can you be so sure he won't?"

  "I just know it," she said. "Hadden, let me talk to him before someone else is hurt or killed."

  "All right, but I'm going with you."

  "Hadden…"

  "Don't worry, I'll wait outside. But if you're not out of that motel room in fifteen minutes, I'm coming in after you."

  She gave him a tiny smile. "Okay, you win. Now, can you get me in to see Jan before we go?"

  It took all of five minutes for Hadden to whisk her past the nurses and doctors and into the intensive care unit. "You've got five minutes," he warned her as they stood outside Jan's room. "And then the nurses will be in here to run you out."

  He cupped her chin gently and tilted her head toward him. "Do you want me to come with you, honey?"

  She shook her head. "No…I have to do this alone, Hadden.

  He nodded. "I understand. I'll be right out here with Steven if you need me. I'll see what I can do about locating Hank and getting an update on her condition."

  "Thank you, Hadden," Miranda said, and then entered the room. She immediately became aware of the subtle humming noise of the machines that surrounded her friend's bed, and it made her heart hurt to hear it and know it was her fault.

  Tears stung her eyes at the sight of Jan, looking so tiny and pale against the white backdrop of hospital sheets. Jan moaned, and Miranda flew to her side.

  "Jan? It's me, sweetie. Can you hear me?"

  No answer.

  Miranda brushed Jan's hair back away from her brow. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, Jan, but I prefer to believe that you can. I want you to listen to me, sweetie. I swear to you…I didn't know this would happen. I should have warned you. I should have been honest and told you the truth and said to hell with what you would have thought. At least, you might have been on your guard." She straightened slowly as tears blinded her. "I failed to protect you, and now it's too late, much too late. But I can stop him from hurting or killing anybody else again."

  Miranda paused for a moment to wipe up her tears before she opened the door. When she stepped out of the room, Hadden touched her elbow with a gentle hand, while his eyes searched her face with concern. "Are you going to be all right?"

  She forced a tiny smile. "Let's go find Drake."

  "Not yet, Miranda," Hadden said, frowning down at her. "First, we're going down to the hospital cafeteria and get something to eat. You haven't eaten all day."

  "But," she protested.

  He touched her lips softly. "No arguments. I don't want you passing out on me again."

  "Hadden, I'm fine," she protested. "Let's just go find Drake and get this over with before the sun goes down. I want this thing with Drake finished with once and for all."

  "Drake has waited this long, he can wait a little longer, I imagine," he said dryly. "But you can't, and I'm not going to stand by and let you ruin your health. So come on, the food isn't the best I've ever eaten, but it'll do for now."

  Steven gave her a wan smile. "Listen to him, Miranda. You look like death warmed over twice and then some. Go with him and get something hot inside you."

  Miranda had to laugh. "I feel like it too. Okay, but let's make it quick. You coming, Steven?"

  Steven pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "No, I want to hang around here for a while, and then I plan to go home and hit the books again."

  Miranda grasped his hands in hers. "Thank you, Steven, for all your help. You're a good friend."

  He blushed and looked away. "I haven't really done anything, yet, except send you two on a wild goose chase. Sorry about that."

  Miranda gave his a quick hug. "You're doing more than I could expect. Thank you," she whispered.

  Hadden and Miranda took the elevator down to the basement. The smells of beef and cabbage hit them as soon as they stepped off the elevator. Miranda forced back the sick queasiness she felt and went through the line, choosing a bowl of vegetable soup and a carton of milk. At the table she played with food halfheartedly, pretending to take a bite now and then, but never actually eating anything.

  Hadden had dug into his own plate of beef and cabbage with relish, and for the most part hadn't noticed her playacting. Or so she had thought.

  She looked up from her soup to see Hadden staring at her. "What is it, Miranda?"

  She looked down and stirred the greasy red mixture in front of her. "There's nothing wrong. I keep telling you that, Hadden. I just don't feel like eating is all. Is that a crime?"

  "You haven't felt like eating in quite some time, Miranda. As a matter of fact you haven't eaten anything in the last few days."

  "With everything that has happened to me over the last few day, is it any wonder I can't eat? I don't think any normal person could under the circumstances. I just don't have an appetite."

  Hadden studied her for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes. "Except for raw meat?" he asked in a quiet voice.

  Heat scalded her cheeks, and her spoon clattered in her bowl as she dropped it. She thought about trying to deny it, but what was the use? He'd find out sooner or later. Better now than later, she thought wearily.

  "How did you know?"

  "I found the empty pack in the sink, and some of the steak you didn't eat. I put two and two together and came up with five. It really didn't take much to figure out that the changes going on inside your body were affecting you in other ways also."

  The same self-loathing she'd felt last night surged through Miranda in rippling waves. "I've tried to fight it. Really I have. But somehow, it keeps getting out of control." She closed her eyes for a moment, and the image of her bloody hands floated in front of her. She let out a little gasp and opened her eyes wide. "The urge is getting stronger every minute…every hour, Hadden. I don't know how much longer I can stay in control of my more basic instincts."

  "Then do it."

  "Do what?" she asked.

  He reached out and took her hand, his thumb lightly caressing the soft cleft in her hand. "Whatever you must to survive. I won't let you starve yourself to death, sweetheart."

  "Perhaps it would be for the best," she whispered, hating herself for giving in to self-pity. "It would be better than losing what humanity I still have left inside me."

  "I don't want you talking that way, Miranda," he said, his voice harsh. His voice softened at the look on her face. "You just gotta have faith, sweetheart. Starving yourself isn't the solution to our problems."

  "It's the only answer I have at the moment, Hadden," she said, her voice grim.
>
  By late afternoon they were sitting outside the motel. It really wasn't much to look at; there were seven small blue and white cottages badly in need of painting, and a sign proclaiming its name with one broken letter swinging in the breeze.

  "I don't like it," Hadden said for the third time. "Remember, Miranda, fifteen minutes and if you're not out here, I'm coming in after you."

  Miranda pushed back her hair with a heavy sigh. "I know, Hadden, you've told me a dozen times since we left the hospital."

  Hadden scowled darkly. "I don't like it."

  "Hadden, you don't have to like it. Try to be patient, okay? I have to do this and you know it."

  He nodded reluctantly. "Remember, fifteen minutes."

  She chose to ignore his last reminder and got out of the pick-up truck. She shivered in the chilly wind and pulled up the collar of her coat.

  A bell tinkled when she opened the office door and a young, tired looking woman with a toddler perched on one hip came from the back to greet her. Miranda could hear the sound of a baby crying, intermingled with the chatter of TV and canned laughter, coming from the other room.

  "Wanna room?" the woman asked, forcing a weary smile upon her lips.

  Miranda shoved her hands into her deep coat pockets and returned her smile. "No. I have a f-friend staying here. Drake Guignard?"

  The woman pulled a tattered book across the counter. "Says here your friend checked out early this morning." She slammed the book shut and jiggled the complaining toddler. "Sorry, lady. If there's nothing else you want I gotta get back to my other kid."

  It was too good to be true, she thought, trying to quell the hope she felt. He wouldn't have just packed up and left without saying anything to her, would he?

  "Did he leave a forwarding address?" she asked.

  "Nah…just paid his bill and left."

  "Then maybe he's really gone for good," Miranda murmured. "God, I hope so."

  The other woman gave her a puzzled glance. "What's that, Miss?"

  A siren split the air before Miranda could speak. Alarmed, she turned to the large bay windows to see Silver Valley's fire engine whiz by. It took the curve on two of its wheels.

  "Wonder what that's all about?" the woman behind the counter mused aloud.

  Two more fire engines and a cop car came rushing by at dizzying speeds, flashes and sirens blasting the peaceful mountain silence.

  "I don't know," Miranda said. "They were heading into town."

  A premonition seized her, and a wave of coldness washed over her.

  The clinic.

  Something had happened at the clinic. She just knew it. She hurriedly thanked the clerk and ran out of the building.

  She jumped into the pick-up truck, almost breathless with apprehension. "The clinic," she choked.

  Hadden didn't have to be told twice. Without a word he slammed the pick-up truck into gear and peeled out of the driveway, spitting gravel in every direction. Miranda leaned forward, praying silently she was wrong, but as Hadden turned the corner, her heart and hope sank. Black smoke rolled in thick clouds from the top and sides of the clinic. Hoses snaked across the road and firefighters fought diligently to contain the blaze.

  Hadden screeched to a stop and they both leapt out. The smell of smoke stung her eyes and nose as she followed Hadden through the crowd forming behind the sheriff's barricades.

  Sheriff Banks, his expression grim, saw them first. He motioned for them to join him.

  "Did everybody get out?" Hadden asked, his voice anxious and concerned.

  The sheriff nodded. "Allison was closing for the day when she saw the smoke coming from the medical supply cabinet. She tried to put it out, but it blazed out of control too fast for her to handle, so she called us."

  "But she's okay?"

  "Think so." The sheriff pointed toward one of the rescue squad trucks. "Hank is over there checking her out now."

  "How did the fire start?" Miranda asked.

  The sheriff pushed back his cap; his eyes narrowed as he watched the firefighters work desperately to put out the fire. "Don't rightly know yet. But from what Allison said, I'd say it was set deliberately." He fixed a long hard stare at Hadden. "Who do you know, Doc, that would want to burn you out?"

  Miranda knew from the stony set of Hadden's features that they both thought the same thing.

  Drake. Drake was the only person who had a motive for doing such a horrible deed.

  "Nobody, Norman," Hadden finally answered.

  The sheriff tipped his cap back. "Strange happenings around here lately, starting with little Bobby's death, then that art teacher getting attacked in the school parking lot, and now this." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Something mighty weird is going on around here, and I mean to keep digging until I get to the bottom of whatever it is."

  "I wish I could help, Norman, but I don't know anymore than you do," Hadden said.

  Sheriff Banks ignored him, his gaze focusing on Miranda. She shifted uneasily beneath his piercing stare. It was as if he could see into the very depths of her being, almost as if he knew her secret.

  "How about you, Ms. Slate? Seen any strange creatures lurking about your place?"

  "Uh…why no, I haven't, Sheriff."

  The sheriff took off his cap and scratched his head. "Well, that's odd, considering what me and my men saw the other night out by your place."

  "What did you see, Sheriff?" Hadden asked, his voice like steel.

  The sheriff replaced his cap. "Nothing like I'd ever seen in these parts in all my born days. It was a creature right out of the very bowels of hell. Don't mind telling you I almost peed my pants when I saw it."

  "Miranda told you she hasn't seen anything unusual, Sheriff," Hadden said, his voice harsh.

  Sheriff Banks gave Hadden a sharp look. "Can't the girl talk for herself?"

  Miranda cleared her throat nervously. "Hadden's right, Sheriff. I've seen nothing out of the ordinary. I'm sorry I can't be more help."

  "This is nonsense, Norman," Hadden said impatiently. "What the hell does some creature have to do with torching my clinic?"

  The sheriff rubbed at his jaw and stared at the milling crowd. "Don't rightly know yet, but I got this niggling feeling that somehow it does."

  Hadden frowned. "Well, it sounds like a bunch of baloney to me. If you'll excuse me I want to check on Allison." He turned to Miranda before he left. "Wait for me."

  "Yes, of course," she whispered. Numbness spread through her as she watched the men fight the fire that engulfed Hadden's clinic in huge hungry bites. The crowd that had gathered to watch let out a collective gasp as one side of the building collapsed inward with a loud wooden shriek.

  "Why?" she whispered aloud. Why had Drake torched the clinic? To hurt her? Or to hurt Hadden? Did he think his attacks against Jan, and now Hadden, would force her to go with him?

  She shook her head. No…he'd said he wouldn't make her go against her will. Then why was he doing this?

  Revenge perhaps, for her continued refusal to go with him willingly? How far would he go to force her to comply? The questions sent pine needles down her spine, and she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, to get her fragmented emotions under control. No matter how she came at the problem, there was really only one solution; she had to leave Silver Valley. Leave Hadden before it was too late.

  It was the only way to keep Drake from hurting anyone else because of her. She'd go so far away that Drake would never find her…perhaps somewhere in Europe. She'd find a place where she belonged. She chewed her bottom lip, and despair gripped her. But where on earth would that be for a freak such as she?

  Miranda jumped when a hand fell on her shoulder.

  "Sorry, I didn't meant to frighten you," Hadden said, giving her a weary smile. "We can go now. There's not much more we can do here."

  "I'm sorry, Hadden. I never thought he would go this far."

  He wrapped his arms around her. "None of this is your fault, sweetheart. You can't blame
yourself for Drake's actions."

  But as she followed him back to the pick-up truck, she knew she could, because Drake was connected to her in some inexplicable way that Hadden could never possibly understand. An unholy bond forged by the blood that ran in their veins.

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  Miranda stepped out of the pick-up truck with a heavy heart. A purplish dusk bathed the countryside, and the smell of burning leaves lingered in the air.

  She paused for a moment on the porch to gaze at the dark vault of sky overhead with its thick frosting of stars, and knew that Hadden was right. The change would not happen tonight. She was free for one more night—one more night with the man she loved.

  Or at least she hoped she was. It was hard to be sure about it after last night.

  Hadden came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'd offer you a penny for your thoughts, but I don't have the strength left to search for one."

  She flicked back a strand of hair from her cheek. "It's nothing, Hadden. I was just thinking about what I'm going to do next."

  "You're going to wait patiently until Steven can come up with something that can help you." He pulled her back against the hardness of his chest. "Are you still worried about Drake hanging around here?"

  She placed her hands against his arms. "Just because he checked out of his room doesn't mean he's gone, Hadden. It's not going to be that easy to get rid of him. And look at what he did to the clinic." Her mouth pressed into a tight line. "No…he's still here, somewhere."

  "Maybe that was his so-called parting gift to us," Hadden replied. "Or maybe he didn't burn down the clinic. It is possible that someone else did it instead."

  "No, it was Drake, I'm almost certain of it. And he's not through with us yet, I just know it." She blinked back tears. "Hadden, I want you to listen to me. If worst comes to worst, there's a gun in my night stand."

  "No…"

  Miranda put up a hand. "Wait, let me finish. I don't know what kind it is or even how to fire the damn thing. I found it in Grandfather's things. But Drake told me that if you can get off a direct hit to the center of our hearts, we can be destroyed." She let out a sour little laugh. "That is, if you can move fast enough to pull off a clear shot."