Luna Lost

Luna Grown

Luna had always been told she was beautiful, she just never quite knew what to do with the compliment.

Her dark brown hair fell almost to her waist, so dark it sometimes looked steel-colored beneath certain light. Here and there, strands of white-blonde caught the sun, scattered naturally through the darker color like someone had painted them there.

Her eyes were the feature people remembered.

Light grey, almost silver. Striking enough that strangers sometimes stared, but over time she’d learned to ignore it.

Tonight, though, she wished someone would look at her and see something less complicated. She’d just been dumped. Technically, it was mutual.

Evan had been sweet. Safe, funny, the kind of guy who remembered her coffee order and showed up at the café just to bother her while she worked.

He flirted constantly, and she usually pretended to be annoyed. She wasn’t.

She liked him.

That was the problem. She liked him, she just couldn’t seem to want him, not the way he wanted her. Not the way she thought she was supposed to.

“I really like you,” he’d told her earlier that afternoon, sitting across from her after closing.

“I know.”

“And I think you’re amazing.”

She’d smiled.

“But?”

He’d sighed.

“But there’s always a but with you.”

She hadn’t known what to say, so he’d said it for her. He was always so good at finding the words that struck home.

“I think you’re waiting for something.”

Something.

She didn’t know what.

He’d kissed her forehead, smiled sadly, and told her he hoped she found it. Now she was walking home in the rain, wondering if perhaps there was something wrong with her.

The village was quiet at this hour. Small enough that everyone knew everyone, and close enough to the forest that trees surrounded the outer edges of town, dark and dense beneath the storm clouds. Her house was closer to the center, but the shortcut through the narrow side street would save her ten minutes.

She pulled her jacket tighter, the rain soaking through her hair. It was then that she heard footsteps.

Two men.

She glanced over her shoulder. They were following her. Her pace quickened.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

She ignored them.

“Don’t be like that.”

One moved ahead of her.

She stopped.

“I really wouldn’t.”

He grinned.

“Wouldn’t what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking.”

The second man laughed.

“Oh, she’s got an attitude.”

Luna stepped backward.

She wasn’t afraid, not exactly. Her parents had trained her well. Years of drills, of conditioning. She knew how to defend herself.

She just didn’t want to have to.

Then—

A lighter flicked, and a small flame partially illuminated a face farther down the street. A cigarette glowed between the fingers of a man leaning casually against a building.

He was enormous.

Tall. Broad. Massive enough that even from a distance, Luna could feel the weight of his presence.

The men noticed him. One laughed. “What are you looking at?”

The stranger took a slow drag from his cigarette.

Luna turned slightly.

“It’s okay,” she called.

His eyes moved to her.

“I can handle myself.”

He didn’t answer.

One of the men stepped toward him.

“Mind your business.”

The stranger dropped his cigarette.

Then everything happened at once.

Luna barely saw him move. One moment he was across the street, the next he was beside her. There was a sickening crack. One attacker screamed and collapsed, clutching his wrist, the other stumbled backward.

“Run,” Luna whispered.

He did. The stranger stood between her and the fleeing man. Then Luna saw the blood. A knife the man had been holding had jerked back and had caught him low in the side.

He looked down.

For one strange second, he seemed almost confused. Then his knees buckled.

“Hey!”

Luna caught him before he hit the pavement.

He was heavy, far too heavy.

“Stay with me.”

His eyes found hers. Light grey met something dark and fierce, and then Luna felt it.

That irreversible pull. That impossible sensation she’d carried since childhood. Only this time, it wasn’t distant. It was crumpled in her arms.

She swallowed.

“Taxi!”

Minutes later, she was crammed into the back of a cab beside the bleeding stranger.

The driver kept glancing at them through the mirror.

“Hospital?”

“No.”

The man’s eyes opened. He looked at her.

“Home.”

Luna frowned.

“You don’t know where my home is.”

He stared at her for a moment. Then, impossibly, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“I will.”

Her heart stumbled.

And somewhere beneath her skin, that strange old ache awakened.

This time, it answered.