Bad Moonlight (5 page)

No answer from the other bed. Danielle fumbled for her clock on the bedside table.

Midnight.

She'd been asleep for only twenty minutes. Is Caroline still talking to Billy about my ride? Danielle wondered.

Another howl, mournful this time. The howl of a wild animal. So close. So very close.

Joey flashed into her mind. Joey was always tossing back his head and howling like a wild wolf.

Danielle crossed the room in the dark. Reluctantly she pulled up the blind and peered out the window.

Cold, bright moonlight poured over the buildings and the street.

Danielle's scalp prickled. To her surprise, she felt a sudden urge to run outside. To join in the howling.

No! she scolded herself.

What are you
thinking
of?

She pulled the shade down, covering the window.

Back in bed she curled up and tried to ignore the howls.

Another sound made her sit up.

A soft, urgent rap on the door.

“Danielle!”

Dee's voice, calling in a hoarse whisper. “Danielle—I have to talk to you. Now!”

Danielle held her breath and settled back down. No way, she thought angrily. No way I'm letting Dee in.

Why should I talk to Dee? Danielle asked herself.

So Dee can tell me how much she hates me for joining the band and being the lead singer? Danielle already knew Dee was her enemy. She didn't have to hear Dee spell it out.

“Danielle!” Dee whispered again. “I know you're in there.” Her knuckles rapped on the door. “Open up, Danielle. Now!”

Go away, Danielle silently begged. Just go away.

After a few more raps, Dee gave up.

Silence in the hall.

Outside, another frightening howl cut through the still summer air.

♦ ♦ ♦

Danielle tightened her grip on the steering wheel of the borrowed car and peered anxiously at the road sign up ahead. Forty more miles to Shadyside. In less than an hour she'd have a talk with Dr. Moore.

Caroline was right—Billy had been cool about letting her take off after rehearsal. He knew one of the waiters at the club and talked him into letting Danielle borrow his car.

Danielle shook her head. Billy was probably glad to get rid of her. She'd been rotten at rehearsal. Her timing stank and her voice sounded puny. Her fingers felt as clumsy as sausages on the guitar strings.

“Hey, don't think about it,” Billy told her during a break. “A bad run-through means a good show.”

“Well, in this case it means a
great
show!” Danielle joked. “This run-through is really the pits.”

Of course Dee had given Danielle a hard time. “What's your problem?” Dee demanded. “Wild night?”

“No, I crashed early,” Danielle told her. She didn't want Dee to know she'd heard her knocking. And she decided not to mention the howls. No one else in the group had mentioned hearing them. They all looked wide awake and rested. “It's just nerves. I'll be fine tonight.”

Dee glared at her, but kept quiet.

“You'll be better than fine,” Kit told Danielle as he
untangled the cord on the guitar amp. “Your new song's going to kill everyone!”

Danielle felt her face flush. How could Kit be so friendly after what she'd done to him? She wished she could go back in time and erase it.

She felt a powerful attraction to Kit. But even though he still smiled at her a lot, he probably never wanted to be alone with her again.

Sighing, Danielle steered the car around a curve on the road. Forget about Kit for now, she told herself. Get to Dr. Moore. Get help.

Half an hour later Danielle joined the stream of cars on Division Street in Shadyside. She passed rows of stores and three-story office buildings, then turned onto Park Drive and drove into North Hills.

She wished she could visit her brother and her aunt. But there wasn't time. Once she saw Dr. Moore, she had to drive straight back to Midland.

Dr. Moore's office was in his house, a huge gray Victorian near the river. Danielle pulled the car to a stop under the side portico and ran up the steps to the door.

A bell announced her entrance. The receptionist wasn't at her desk. Danielle flopped down in one of the soft beige chairs and picked up a magazine.

Almost immediately she tossed the magazine aside and jumped up. She was too nervous to sit.

Something's happening to me, she thought. Something bad. I have to find out what. And why.

“Danielle?” A smooth, deep voice broke into her thoughts.

“Dr. Moore!” Danielle stopped pacing and spun around.

The doctor stood in the door of his office. A tall bear of a man with a fringe of graying hair around his head. Bright blue eyes beneath bushy gray brows.

His clothes were always slightly rumpled. His glasses were always smudged.

“I tried to call, but the line was busy,” Danielle explained. “I know you've got other patients, but you have to squeeze me in.” She tried not to sound desperate. But her voice came out shrill and breathless.

Dr. Moore waved her toward his office. “Another patient canceled. Come in, Danielle.”

The tall French windows of the large room faced the backyard. A small swimming pool filled the center of the yard. A line of trees separated the pool from the river.

Bookcases lined two of the office walls. Colorful posters of flowers hung on the others. Two deep, soft armchairs faced the desk.

Dr. Moore motioned Danielle into one of the chairs, then sat on the edge of his desk.

“What happened?” he asked.

Barely pausing for breath, Danielle told him about the violent fantasy she experienced in the van. The strange song she wrote about the moonlight. And the frightening scene in the park with Kit.

“That
wasn't a fantasy!” she cried. “I actually bit him. I drew blood!”

“Are you attracted to Kit?” Dr. Moore asked.

“Yes, but—”

The doctor held up his hand. “And is he attracted to you?”

“I think so. At least, he
was,”
Danielle replied.

Dr. Moore smiled. “Two young people, kissing in the moonlight. Teeth sometimes get in the way, you know. Perhaps Kit turned his head slightly?”

Danielle felt a surge of hope.

“It's highly unlikely that you acted violently,” Dr. Moore assured her.

“Maybe you're right,” Danielle agreed. “But what about these terrible fantasies I have? They're so violent!”

“Yes, let's think about them,” Dr. Moore suggested. “Ready to clear your mind?”

Danielle nodded and closed her eyes.

The doctor started to hypnotize her. He'd done it many times.

“I want you to start counting backward from one hundred,” Dr. Moore whispered. “Shut everything out of your mind as you count. You will feel yourself relax with each number.”

Obediently Danielle began to count. “One hundred . . . ninety-nine . . . ninety-eight . . .”

“You're feeling much more relaxed now,” the doctor said, his voice almost a whisper. “Your breathing is deep and steady.”

As Danielle kept counting, she felt herself sink into the soft cushion. Her hands rested lightly on the chair arms.

“Are you comfortable, Danielle?” the doctor asked. “Is your mind clear?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Good. Now, let the thoughts flow,” he directed. “And tell me what is happening.”

Danielle took a long, slow breath. “The moon,” she groaned. “The moon is full. It's shining down on me.”

“How does it feel?”

“Cold. Icy.” Danielle started breathing faster. “I'm running across a field. Running free. Running away from everyone.”

“Why are you running?” Dr. Moore asked.

“It feels good to run free,” Danielle replied. “But—” Her leg muscles tensed. Her heart began to pound. “But now I'm being chased! Someone is chasing me!”

“How does that make you feel?” he asked quietly.

“Angry. Furious!” Danielle panted. “I feel such rage! I turn to fight. Now I'm fighting. Fighting with someone.” She ground her teeth together. “I'm fighting hard! I'm in a total rage. There's a lot of . . . blood. I keep fighting and . . .”

Dr. Moore snapped his fingers. Once. Twice.

Danielle opened her eyes. Saw the bookcases on the walls. The sun outside the window. Dr. Moore gazing at her.

“That was so . . . gross!” Danielle gasped. “See what I mean? These fantasies are getting so strange. So awful.”

“There's still a lot of anger inside you,” the doctor
commented. “And who can blame you? Your parents died unexpectedly. You're angry about it. At them. At the world.”

Danielle nodded. She struggled to slow her breathing.

“Don't be frightened of your fantasies. It's good to let your feelings out, Danielle,” Dr. Moore told her. “The more you do, the less angry you'll feel.”

Was he right? Danielle wondered. Were her violent fantasies harmless? Were they actually helpful?

Danielle still felt shaken. But Dr. Moore had moved to the door. Time for her to go.

She gripped the arms of the chair to push herself up.

And glanced down in shock.

The pale brown fabric of the chair arms lay torn and shredded.

Danielle raised her hands and stared at them in horror.

Scraps of the fabric were embedded under her fingernails.

She had clawed the chair to ribbons.

Chapter 7

A MOONLIGHT RUN

“B
ad Moonlight!”

The dancing, cheering crowd at the Rocket Club roared and demanded an encore.

“Bad Moonlight!” they chanted. “Again! Bad Moonlight!”

Danielle's face streamed with sweat. Her outfit—a short, red T-shirt dress blazing with sequins—felt like a limp rag. A callus split open on one of her fingers.

She felt fabulous. I could sing all night! she thought happily.

“‘Bad Moonlight.' Again!” the crowd cried. “‘Bad Moonlight!'”

Laughing, Danielle spun around to the rest of the band. Caroline flipped her long blond hair over a
shoulder and pumped her fist. Behind the drums, Mary Beth grinned back at her. Even Dee appeared happy and pleased.

Until she met Danielle's eyes. Then Dee's expression turned hateful.

Danielle tried not to let it bother her. We're a hit, she thought excitedly. The crowd loves us. Loves my song. Wants to hear it again.

“Give it to them!” Billy shouted from offstage. Standing beside him, Joey gave her a thumbs-up.

Danielle whirled back to face the crowd. She glanced at Caroline, who played the opening notes on the keyboard. Mary Beth joined in with the drumbeat.

Danielle tossed her head and launched into “Bad Moonlight.”

The crowd roared its approval, then sang along.

“Bad Moonlight, falling over me,

Bad moonlight, shining down on me,

Bad moonlight . . .”

As she sang, Danielle noticed a figure in the crowd. He stood out because he didn't clap or sing like everyone else. He kept perfectly still, watching her.

Kit.

He usually worked backstage when the band was onstage. He must have come out front just to watch me, Danielle thought.

Kit's pale blue eyes glittered with admiration. Not just for Danielle's singing. For Danielle herself.

Dr. Moore
was
right about the kiss, she realized. Kit wouldn't stare at her that way if he wasn't still attracted to her.

Knowing Kit was watching gave Danielle even more enthusiasm. She finished the song with an explosion of energy and passion.

“Bad Moonlight, shining down on me,

Bad Moonlight

Makes me want to die for you!”

“Let's party!” Joey shouted. He stuck on his sunglasses. “Let's party big time!”

It was after one in the morning and the club had closed. But no one in the group could settle down. “Bad Moonlight”—the song
and
the band—had been an incredible success.

“Let's party!” Joey shouted again. He grabbed Dee around the waist and danced her across the stage.

“Get your paws off me!” Dee teased, shoving him away.

Joey shrugged and turned to Mary Beth. To Danielle's surprise, Mary Beth started to dance with Joey.

If Mary Beth is excited enough to dance with Joey, Danielle thought, then we're definitely a hit!

“How's it going?” Billy asked as Danielle packed up her guitar.

“Wiped out.” Danielle grinned. “Fantastic!”

Billy smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening.
“You were really
radical,
Danielle. I guess you don't need me to tell you that.”

“You can tell me,” Danielle replied. “I love hearing it.”

“Hey, what are we going to do?” Caroline asked Billy. “Everybody's in the mood to celebrate.”

Billy ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “I hate to tell you, but with this club closed for the night, the hotel coffee shop is the only game in town.”