Blue Moon by Cindy Lynn Speer Read Free Book Online Page A

well, and as usual, she woke up feeling awful, like her head had been banged against the wall forty or fifty times. She had to look at the clock to see if it was actually morning, since her bedroom and the attendant bathroom had no windows. She dressed slowly and thought longingly of a cup of tea.
    She stumbled out of her bedroom and checked to see if anyone or anything had tried to break in before she opened the living room and kitchen shutters. She let Dashiel out and followed him, thinking a walk would clear her head. Dashiel was in a good mood. The night had been quiet, then.
    She turned around and looked back at the fortress. When she had first moved here, it had been a cabin, and her mother's parents had both wanted her to have it.
    "Your mother isn't a country girl, dear, but you are.” Just like your father —the last part of the sentence was never spoken. Libby could not recall ever having met her father. She'd had enough bad men in her life, and she didn't need to make the list longer by bothering him. She didn't even know what he looked like, her mother having burned every single picture and memento. She shrugged. It didn't matter.
    When she moved here, her first book had just started to sell. It hadn't been enough to pay for the renovations but at least it gave her provable income enough to substantiate a loan. That, and the house as collateral. She thanked God everyday the loan was paid off. She hated debt, because if she lost this place she'd have nowhere else to go.
    She'd had her bedroom and bathroom windows boarded up and supports built around the remaining windows to allow her to have heavy iron shutters. Sabin and his friends would never touch iron. She'd blocked, barricaded and barred every place she could think of, taken every precaution. Still, it was only when daylight came and she could see the defenses untried that she felt as if she could breathe again. When Dashiel ran around looking happy, Libby was happy.
    It was another beautiful day, she thought, though it could be the last now that winter was coming. She ran her hands down the stalks of the forget-me-nots, harvesting some late, clinging seeds. She put them in a baggie she kept in her jacket pocket. She double-checked to see if she'd locked the door then headed down the driveway.
    She was constantly aware of her surroundings as she walked. She had a few things strung in trees here and there or hidden along the path that were, according to old books, supposed to tell her if one of the fae had been through though, to be honest, she really wasn't sure what type of creature Sabin was. Some of the wards were meant to detect brownies and dryads and other members of the fae; one was even supposed to detect ghosts. Not that Sabin would fall for such petty hedge witchery and woodsman's lore, but it never hurt to try.
    So far, they had never done anything to prove or disprove their worth; one, made of horsehair, was looking particularly worn as birds stole the strands for their nests.
    She circled around to the back of her house, checking, looking, feeling the area. Everything seemed to be as it should, until she reached the back porch.
    Five apples were stacked neatly at the top of the steps. They were red, perfect, store-bought. A couple of pears, the same ones she hadn't picked from her own orchard, rested next to them. The top apple had a large, jagged bite out of it.
    It was as she feared. He had walked unchallenged right through her alarm systems.
    "Dashiel?” she called softly, a strand of fear wrapping around her heart. The apple's inner flesh was still perfectly white, a little teardrop of juice still clung to the ruby skin.
    He never comes during the day, she thought. Day is safe.
    "Dashiel! Come here!” Distantly, she heard him barking. Just some prank, she thought, looking at the apples. Or someone had put the apples and pears on her porch, and an animal had chewed on it and was scared away by her approach. She desperately hoped this was