by Cynthia Eden
My thumb traced the top of the mace. I didn’t see a label anywhere on the thing. “Where’d you get this?” It was heavier than my other can of mace.
“The usual place.”
My dad could be a smart ass, too. Family trait.
He pointed a fork at me. “There are a lot of wild animals running loose out in those woods. If something ever comes at you, spray it right in the eyes.”
I could so handle that. My healing arm tensed a bit. “Does this mean I get to head into the woods and—”
“No.” Immediate.
Figured. The man didn’t know how to bend. “It means if you’re walking home or to a friend’s house—”
He had such an obsession with me making friends.
“Then you make sure you’re covered, Anna, got it?”
“Well, if you’d get me a car,” when I saw an opening, I knew how to take it, “then I wouldn’t have to walk any place.” And thus the mace-in-the-woods wouldn’t be necessary.
The fork dropped onto his plate. My dad offered me a half-smile. “I’m working on it.”
My jaw dropped just like that fork. “Seriously?” And a real, honest-to-God squeal burst from me. I jumped up, flew around the table, and hugged him as hard as I could.
And, yeah, this was what happiness felt like.
A car—finally. Oh, sweet. The man knew just how to make me happy.
I felt so good that I could almost forget the nightmares that had haunted me all night long.
Almost.
***
“So…what’s her deal?” I asked Jenny at lunch as I nodded toward Cassidy. Pounding rainfall had forced everyone inside the cafeteria today, and I saw Cassidy sitting at a table with her cousin, Fresh Meat.
Um, James. James Colter. I sucked almost as much as Troy right then.
“Who?” Jenny was staring at Brent’s table with a bit of a longing expression on her face. I waved my hand before her eyes. She blinked like an owl.
“The girl over there,” I explained, pretty needlessly, I thought. “Cassidy.”
“Oh.” I expected her to say her usual, “OhmyGod!” But she didn’t. Instead, she did her forward lean, which I now knew was her I’m-sharing-gossip move, and told me, face totally serious, “She’s a witch.”
Now, really, people shouldn’t joke about things like that. They never knew when a witch was around—one who’d get pissed off at being talked about.
But I smiled and called, “Bullshit.”
The lunch monitor, our history teacher Mrs. Cavanaugh, jerked her head toward the table. She frowned at me.
I kept smiling.
“No, she is.” Jenny leaned ever closer. “Have you seen the shop her grandmother runs? You can buy anything there. Even…a love potion.”
Someone save me. “I’m guessing you bought one.”
Her gaze darted back to the VIP table. Not to Brent, but to Troy. Seriously? Oh, that was such a bad plan.
And she wasn’t answering me. My joke suddenly wasn’t as funny. I put down my soda. “Tell me you didn’t.”
She shrugged and wouldn’t look at me. “Lots of people buy things from Granny Helen.”
Granny Helen. Okay. That would be the not-so-sweet lady who had tried to yank off my arm. “And Cassidy says she’s a witch? She actually tells people that?”
“Well, no, but…”
My eyes wanted to cross.
“But she works at the store, so she has to be one, right?”
Wrong. “She could just be a girl who works at her grand-mom’s shop.” A creepy girl. And every time I looked at her, I kept thinking…I can so relate.
So she’d been weird yesterday. I knew weird. Today, I noticed the way the other kids looked at her. The slightly taunting smiles on their lips. The amused stares. I’d caught too many of those looks once upon a time.
Cassidy glanced up and met my stare then. She nodded slightly in acknowledgement of me.
“How do you know her?” Jenny wanted to know. A few other girls were at the table with us, all Jenny’s friends, but they were chatting about the upcoming Friday night football game and totally ignoring us.
“I was in her shop yesterday.” How to be polite? “It was an…interesting place.”
Her eyes widened. “You bought a love spell?”
Now all the girls were looking at me because Jenny had just done her whisper shriek—with emphasis on the shriek.
“No, no, I—”
“Who are you going to use it on?” Her gaze darted to team VIP. Well, that’s how I was thinking of Brent and Troy’s table, anyway. “Wait,” she said, “let me guess…”
I grabbed her hand. “I didn’t buy a spell!” By this point, I should know better than to mess with that crap.
I should have known.
Her eyes bulged, and I realized I might be holding too tightly to her wrist. I eased my grip. “I was curious about the place. I just went inside so I could see what the shop was like.”
“Did Granny Helen tell you about your future?” One of the girls at the table wanted to know. Suzy. Suzy with the long French braid that she seemed to play with all the time.
I frowned at her words. My future?
The darkness is closing in.
“She told me I’d be getting the music scholarship I need.” Suzy’s shoulders straightened. “And I am so getting it.”
“She told me to be careful when I drove my dad’s car,” another girl murmured with a wince. Heather? Yeah, that was her name. Heather with the blonde highlights in her hair. “I wasn’t careful, though. I crashed it right into the tree on Deadman’s Bend.”
Jenny stared at me with one raised brow. How did she even do that? How could a person lift only one brow?
“What’d she tell you?” Jenny wanted to know.
I smiled. “Nothing.” I pulled my hand back. So Granny Helen had fun messing with the locals. Fine. She could do her bit and—
“Hi…it’s…Anna, right?”
Jenny squeaked.
I looked over to the left, following her startled stare, and there, looking all quarter-back special and too cute with his dimpled grin, was Brent.
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”
His head cocked as he studied me. His gaze seemed too assessing, and I worried that he was seeing…too much of me. “I’m having a party at my house after the game on Friday…I thought I’d see if you wanted to stop by.”
Wait. Hold up. Had one of the VIPs just asked me to—
I risked a fast glance at Jenny. Sure enough, she mouthed OhmyGod.
Then I looked back at the VIP table. Valerie wasn’t there. Interesting. What was the deal? Was the guy asking me on a date, or was this some kind of friendly help-out-the-new-girl bit?
“You are coming to the football game on Friday, aren’t you?” He asked as his blond brows wrinkled a bit.
Honestly, I hadn’t been planning on it.
Someone kicked me under the table. Had to be Jenny. Her sandals had been a little spiky today, and I sure felt that spike bite into my skin. I nodded and acted like I cared about football. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Great.” His smile kicked up in voltage. This guy was just a total All-American package. And he was very much taken. Right?
It always sucked when the hot guys were taken.
He leaned toward me, and I caught the scent of crisp, really nice smelling cologne. “If you want, I can drive you out to my place. Just stick around a bit after the game, and I’ll give you a ride. That way, you won’t get lost.”
Not a problem. I peeked again for Valerie. Didn’t see her. So I just asked, “Um, will Valerie be riding along with us?”
His eyes chilled at that. “No. She definitely won’t be.”
Well, well…Not taken.
“So is it a date?” He wanted to know.
Ah, there was that big four-letter word. Date. But why not? “Sure.” Even I knew that if the big catch in school asked for a date, a girl should at least give h
im a try.
He tapped his knuckles on the table. “Wow, usually I get more of a response that than.”
His grin asked me to smile back with him.
My heart did a fast little jump. I could sure see what the fuss was about with him. “You should know, I’m not gonna be your usual type of girl.” Fair warning for him.
“Good. I’m tired of that kind of girl. I’m ready for surprises.”
I was good at surprises.
The bell rang then, and Brent stepped back. “See you soon.”
I nodded.
Jenny kicked me again, but I think it was just an excited kick that time. More of a reflex move. Especially since she followed up the kick with, “You totally don’t need a love spell.”
Before she could say more on that, I stood up, ready to dump my tray and head to my next class. Troy had grabbed Brent, and they were talking about practice being canceled for today because something was wrong with the coach and—
My gaze collided with Rafe’s. He stood against the back cafeteria wall, with his arms crossed over his chest. His face looked hard, kind of angry, and his stare was locked right on me.
I did a Cassidy move, and I inclined my head toward him in a faint nod even as my hands tightened on my tray.
“Hey, I got that,” Brent said, appearing again, and he took my tray from me. That grin of his flashed once more. “I can play the gentleman.”
I mumbled my thanks and darted another glance Rafe’s way.
I told you to stay out of the woods.
He was gone.
***
The big orange/yellow bus waited for me. Thanks to my little episode at the sheriff’s station yesterday, my dad had told me to head home after school today. No drop-ins at the station to look at photos of missing folks for me.
I knew he was “Anna—proofing” the place today. Getting anything that could mess with my head out of the way so that I’d be clear to stop by in the future. But, for now, he’d given orders that I was to take the bus back home.
The man really needed to hurry up and buy my car. I could already smell the odor of old gym socks emanating from the bus. The second day of school, and already the thing reeked. Maybe it always smelled that way.
I shuffled forward, ready to climb aboard and begin a desperate search for a seat that didn’t suck, but then I heard the low, rumbling growl.
My body tensed, and my head whipped to the left.
The growl turned into a roar and a motorcycle twisted through the parking lot. A guy was on it, a guy with broad shoulders and a dark, black helmet.
“He is so hot,” a girl said from behind me.
Things got really weird then…because the guy on the bike braked and turned back to look at the bus line.
I swear it felt like he was looking right at me.
He guided the bike and turned it around, and started driving slowly toward the line.
The girl behind me bumped against my backpack, and I realized it was my turn to get on the bus. I shook my head and stepped forward.
The motorcycle braked two feet away. I didn’t look at the guy as I reached for the bus handle.
“Hey, Anna…”
Rafe’s voice. Like I could ever forget that low rumble. And he’d actually called me Anna, not Chicago. I looked now, unable to help myself. He had the helmet tucked under his arm, and his bright blue eyes were on me.
He didn’t look angry anymore, and just staring at him gave me a weird flash of my dream.
He’d left me to die in that dream.
“Are you getting on the bus, miss?” This slightly annoyed question came from the driver, a middle-aged guy with thinning hair who frowned down at me.
I shook my head, trying to clear away the dream. “Ah, yeah, I—”
“I can give you a ride,” Rafe told me.
I wasn’t sure what to say. The girls behind me slid around and hurried into the bus.
“Come on, Anna…” Rafe’s voice almost teased. “I won’t bite.”
You sure about that?
I stepped away from the bus and could almost hear my dad yelling in my head.
Bad idea. Bad.
But he was tempting. So was the motorcycle.
“Thanks,” I told him, regretfully, “but I’ll just take—”
“My house is right next to your grandmother’s place. Well, not right next to it,” he explained with a shrug, “but about a mile away. I’m the closest neighbor you’ve got.”
That made me feel…I don’t know. Strange. Chill bumps rose on my arms.
“In or out?” The bus driver demanded, definitely irritated with me now. The bus was nearly full, and he was obviously ready to go.
The bike’s motor growled softly. The scent of gym socks stung my nose. No more good seats were left. Just the crappy ones that would have me shoved up against some new “friend” that I didn’t really want to know.
My chin lifted. “Out,” I said, and turned to fully face Rafe.
A half-smile stretched his lips then. Dimples didn’t flash—not like Brent’s smile. Rafe’s smile held more of a dangerous edge.
Trouble. That’s exactly what he was.
He gave me an extra helmet. “Climb on,” he told me, “and hold tight.”
He shoved my books and backpack into the saddlebag. I’d worn a skirt again, probably not best for motorcycle riding, and when I climbed on the bike, the fabric hiked up a bit.
“Nice,” he muttered, and his gaze lifted from my leg to my face.
I put my arms around him. I could feel his muscles beneath my hands.
Nice. I managed to hold back my own compliment. Barely. I was working on the blurting tendency.
He pulled on his helmet, and the motorcycle flew forward.
I held on as tight as I could, and I realized I was smiling.
Faces passed me in a quick blur. Cassidy, Jenny, Valerie, Troy—then we were out of the parking lot, and Rafe drove us along the snaking curves that led back to my house. The wind whipped against my body, and I felt so good that I wanted to laugh. Riding free, fast, oh, it was perfect, so good.
The woods surrounded the rode, sometimes thickening so much that it seemed as if we were traveling through a tree tunnel. Light dimmed as the sunlight became trapped in the tops of the trees. And still the motorcycle ate up the road.
He eased into Deadman’s Bend—Jenny had told me it was called that cause of all the accidents there late at night—but Rafe pulled out easily with a perfect slide, and kept driving fast.
I didn’t talk. No point in it then with the wind roaring around us. I just held on, and I didn’t worry about a thing&helip;
Or, at least, I didn't worry, not until the motorcycle slowed down, and Rafe turned onto an old dirt road. A road that didn’t lead to my house, a road that seemed to lead right into the woods.
Don’t go into the woods.
He braked, killed the engine, and yanked off his helmet.
He glanced at me with a glittering gaze. “We need to talk.”
Um, right. I was getting that. I took off my helmet, much more slowly than he had. “I-I thought you were taking me home.”
“I am.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “But first I need to ask you something.”
Even the birds seemed to have stopped chirping. “Ask.” My heart beat too hard in my chest.
His gaze searched mine. “You were bleeding when I found you the other day.”
I nodded. I hadn’t expected that question.
“Were you bitten?”
Why, was he going to take me in for a rabies shot?
“Were you bitten?” Seated together on the motorcycle, he had to be close to me. Only inches separated our faces. The gold in his eyes looked darker than before.
“No, no, I wasn’t.” My voice sounded a little husky.
“Are you sure?” There was a hard intensity in his voice and eyes. “This is real important, and I have to know the truth.”
Fine, fine. I yanked up my sl
eeve and showed him my bandage. “Just a claw mark, okay? His claws caught me when I fell—”
He grabbed my arm—in a very, very fast move—and pulled the bandage off in an instant.
“Hey!” I snapped. “What are you—”
“Claws.” His breath rasped out in what could have been a relieved sigh.
I peered at my arm. The marks weren’t as red now. The lines actually seemed to have shrunk a bit. Still raised though. Each mark was a couple of inches long.
“I’m not getting rabies or anything, okay? You don’t have to worry about—”
“I wasn’t worrying about rabies.” His fingers smoothed over my arm. His fingertips felt a little rough, like he had calluses on them.
I swallowed. “Then what? What’s the big deal?”
But he only shook his head. The guy had some extremely long lashes. I couldn’t help but notice since we were kissing close.
He pulled away a bit, putting some space between us.
I took a quick breath and could have sworn I tasted him.
“So…” And I climbed off the bike. I could do the space routine, too. I walked a few feet away. “Is that the only question you wanted to ask me?”
“No.”
I waited. Look at me not blurting anything, just waiting. I was making some serious progress.
“Why are you going out with Brent Peters?”
I rocked back a bit on my heels. Was he jealous? Maybe. Maybe not. “Because I want to?”
He kicked down the stand and climbed off the motorcycle. “You need to be careful around him.”
“What is up with people giving me warnings in this town?” Now I was annoyed. “This is gonna come as a shock, but I can actually take care of myself.” I had my black belt in Karate. My dad had made sure I knew how to defend myself at an early age. I might look small, but I could pack a mean punch.
And all that nice, personal space I’d put between us? He eliminated it in like two seconds. He caught my arm, his hold gentle despite the roughness of his fingertips. His hand rested just below my wound. “You sure about that? Maybe you were a bad ass back home,” his tone said he doubted that, “but, Chicago, I think you are way out of your element here.”
My chin—one that was perhaps a little too pointed—lifted. “You don’t know my element.”