Chapter Sixteen
HUNTER’S MOON.
Harvest moon.
Lucas heard a sound in the stillness of the night – a tumbled clatter of rock against rock. He sat up before realizing that he had awoken. Tamsen lay beside him, so still and silent he felt her skin to be certain she wasn’t dead.
Her flesh was cool.
He held his breath and listened like an anxious parent, until he heard the rise and fall of her breathing.
And then he heard that sound again, stone moving against stone.
“From ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night,” he whispered.
Then he laughed at his own foolishness. It had been years since he had last heard that ancient prayer quavering upon the seamed out lips of his aging Scottish great-grandmother, who would unfailingly add it as a postscri
