Read Black Moon Draw for Free Online

idea that this world – down to the birds – is nothing like mine makes me more anxious to be home. I don’t like surprises, especially not in the form of half-men, half-beast creatures chasing me through a forest at night.
    Starting away, I glance up at the sky, visible through the canopy of trees. It’s almost sunset, while the shadows of the forest are already long and growing thicker.
    Shivering at the chill of the forest, I pull up the hood to keep the evening breeze off my neck.
    I’m a good ten yards from the bird when I hear it start chirping again. I glance back to make sure no owl has it cornered. There’s nothing around it, no reason for it to start to talk again, and I return my focus to the trail.
    “Get me out of here before it’s dark, LF,” I order quietly. “I’m not a Girl Scout. I never learned to start a fire, and I definitely don’t know how to hunt or eat bears or whatever it is you put in this godawful forest.”
    A branch snaps behind me and I turn.
    Again, the area behind me is empty, except this time, I can almost sense something at my back, like when a saleslady follows a little too closely when I’m at Macy’s. I hate the feeling of being watched or worse – of being judged for making a beeline to the clearance racks because I don’t make enough for full-priced clothes. It’s why I shop first thing in the morning – so no one sees me.
    But this . . . this is paranoia. There’s no one there, unless they’re invisible. I’m not about to put that thought out to the creator of this universe, in case LF decides it’s a good idea.
    Shaking off the weird instinct, I continue on the path. I’m trying not to think about what happens when dark falls or where I go in the morning, if I don’t wake up in my own bed.
    “Witch! You must run!”
    “Shit!” I whirl and see three men with white trees on their breasts where there was no one before.
    “The Shadow Knight comes,” the first said grimly, reaching me. “Flee and we will hold him off.”
    My chest grows tight. “Where do I go?”
    “North by northwest.”
    I look up at the sky. I can’t see much beyond the trees. “Which way is that?”
    “North then northwest,” he repeats with some impatience. “They are on our heels. You must go now.”
    I don’t see anyone following them but start down the path, not about to stick around to meet the man-beast I once admired because he chops off everyone’s heads.
    “North first!” the White Tree Sound soldier bellows. “Then northwest.”
    “Can you just point the way I need to go?”
    He does and then whips out his sword and prepares to face an enemy I can’t see.
    North is through the forest. Hiking up my cloak, I trip twice over the oversized shoes before finding my footing. This route is horrible – filled with dips I can barely see in the grainy dusk, brush scratching my legs, and thick tree branches that keep getting in the way. There’s no way I can head in one direction long, not with the detours I have to take.
    Cursing the knight for pointing me in such a laborious direction, I stop to suck in a deep breath and glance back. I can’t see them anymore. There’s half a forest between us. The clash of swords tells me which direction the White Tree people are in. They aren’t following.
    Focused on working my cloak free from bramble, I hear it behind me: the sound of something very large crashing through the forest towards me.
    “This just keeps getting worse!” I yank my cloak free and bunch it up around my waist, sick of wrestling with it in the underbrush.
    And then I run. Or try to. When I’m not tripping over the oversized boots, I’m smacking my shins on low branches I can’t see in the darkening forest or almost face-planting when the uneven ground throws a dip or hill in my path.
    Needless to say, I’m not getting far. At all.
    “Dammit!” Frustrated, I stop and look around. Surely there’s a better, smarter way of dealing with things. “I swear,