Read Beneath the Black Moon (Root Sisters) for Free Online Page A

been down for more than an hour, but
there was a warm wind, and that was better than the stifling interior of the
ballroom.
    He
had only been out on the porch for a minute when he heard an unidentifiable
scraping sound. He couldn't pinpoint where it came from at first, until there
was a more distinct sound, a soft footstep from above his head. It was at that
moment that he realized what the scraping sound had been. Someone had opened a
window on the second floor and climbed out onto the balcony. His first thought,
as inside of the house a bright tune began playing, was that someone was trying
to steal from the Johnsons. He took a few steps back into the shadowy corner of
the porch, out of the light that streamed from the windows, as whoever was
above walked to the other side of the balcony, where a twisted oak that was
probably older than the house grew.
    He
could hear branches rustling as the intruder climbed into the tree, and a
suspicion began to grow in his mind. When he was able to see a stockinged leg
and the hem of a striped skirt, he knew that it was Cam.
    Her
sister was right , he thought, not so indisposed after
all .
    Where
was she going? What had her out and about at this hour? His first theory was a
lover, but the dress she wore was even plainer that the one she'd been wearing
at the barbecue, and her hair had come loose and fallen around her shoulders.
She hadn't taken much care with her appearance, which made him doubt that she
had taken a leaf out of her sister Diana's book and taken a lover. What then?
Tales of young ladies misbehaving usually involved young men. If there was no
young man, what could she be up to?
    She
moved with an almost catlike grace through the branches of the tree, which was
remarkable given that even a simple dress seemed remarkably constricting to a
woman's movement. She landed softly and froze, listening. He could see the
gentle rise and fall of her chest. The light of the half-moon illuminated her
face, darkening her eyes to jet and giving her skin a silvery gleam. He caught
his breath and held it, while she listened to make sure that she had not been
observed. The corner where he stood was shadowed by a stand of trees. She
couldn't see him, and he didn't make a sound. In a minute her skirt twirled as
she vanished down the porch steps and around the side of the house.
    Brent
didn't even need to debate with himself. He just followed her.
    ***
    Cam
could smell the smoke on the air as she walked through the darkness to the
kitchen. Caro and Grandma must have already started lighting the candles. She
could identify every herb they burned and knew what each one was for. She
smelled one herb for protection, one for peace, one for strength, and three for
secrecy. It was always that way. Secrecy was all-important. It had been since
she was a little girl and she had first taken the path to the kitchen. She had
been searching for someone to replace her mother and had found instead a family
secret that was truly a matter of life and death.
    Following
their mother's death, each of the girls had sought her own refuge. Helen had
been little more than a baby when their mother had died, and she had grown up
with the sadness imprinted on her soul. She couldn't remember the mother that
she was mourning, but she would mourn her forever nonetheless. Helen had
escaped into her books, her studies and her prolific diary-keeping. Cam didn't
think that her younger sister had missed a daily diary entry since she was
seven or eight.
    Diana
searched in the wrong places for a love to replace the love she had lost.
People still gossiped about her scandal, whispered that she was a wanton woman.
Cam hated them for it. She couldn't forgive society for its harsh judgment of
her sister, not when she knew that loneliness and sadness were to blame, not
wantonness.
    Cam
had found peace in the kitchen, away from her melancholy father, strict aunt
and sisters who were as distant and emotionally crippled as she. After