by Bella Raven
I’m convinced that I’m dead. Then I wake up in my bunk, gasping for air, dripping with sweat. I take a nice, full breath. Several of them. I think, in my dream, I had actually stopped breathing. Ever since my parents died, I’ve had dreams of drowning. I had hoped the dreams had stopped.
I take a moment to enjoy the warm sunlight on my face. I’m usually not a morning person, but right now I’m thankful for the sunrise. The sunrise means that I don’t have to deal with werewolves hounding me. No sharp fangs wanting to tear me into tiny bits. No razor sharp claws swiping at me. And, at least for now, no more nightmares.
I grab the wooden keepsake box from underneath my bed. I stare at it a few moments, thinking about the letter inside. The letter I haven’t been able to bring myself to read. I inhale deeply and decide I’m still not ready to read it. I tuck the box away, back underneath the bed.
I get up and fix some pancakes. Jake’s bedroom door is still closed, and I imagine he probably has one hell of a hangover. I’m not the best with pancakes. I can never get them to all be the same size and thickness, but Noah doesn’t complain. They taste just the same, anyhow.
The biggest mistake I make is letting Noah take a shower before me. He takes forever, and it throws my whole morning routine off. By the time I get my stuff ready, I’m panicking. It dawns on me that Jen isn’t coming to pick me up. It’s not like she’s going to sneak her dad’s car out this morning. How am I going to get us both to school?
A sharp knock on the door startles me. I hobble closer, my heart beating faster. I’m not expecting anyone, and after last night, I’m a little on edge. And when I say a little, I mean a lot.
I inch toward the door and peer through the blinds. I’m shocked, and I don’t know what to think. Ethan is standing on the stoop!
I pull open the door, and I’m sure the look on my face is one of bewilderment.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi.”
We stare at each other for a long, awkward moment.
“I thought you might need a ride today.”
I’m stunned. After the way I treated him last night, part of me felt that he was just going to write me off. Part of me, the scared part of me, wanted him to. The stupid, illogical, lovesick part of me—the part that I try to repress—is ecstatic that he’s here right now.
I play coy. “Is it safe to ride with you?”
He grins. “I don’t see a full moon.”
“Not yet, at least,” I say.
“I’ll have you back by nightfall.”
“Hmmm… I don’t know.”
“Do you want a ride to school, or not?”
I call out to Noah, unblinking as I stare in Ethan’s eyes.
Noah grabs his books, and we pile into Ethan’s car. Nobody says a word for the entire ride. I want to tell Ethan everything about last night. Every detail about the attack. I want to know how he sustains himself. If he actually has eaten human flesh. But all of these questions will have to wait.
We drop Noah off and head to the high school. As we pull into the parking lot, a sea of teenagers are scurrying to class. We pass by Lucas. He sinks when he sees me in Ethan’s car. I wave at him, and he manages to return a half hearted gesture. Lucas forces a thin smile, trying to hide the look of betrayal that involuntarily flashes across his face.
I cringe. I haven’t talked to him since the night at the grocery store. The night he saved my life.
Ethan weaves the car through the flowing river of angst ridden youth, pulling into a parking space. Olivia stands on the sidewalk, glowering at us. Ethan’s eyes meet hers, and her gaze showers him with disapproval. I can see Ethan’s frustration grow.
“Why does she hate me?”
“Because you’re dangerous,” he says.
“That’s a laugh.”
“We are very… protective of our own. You’re an outsider. And your human.”
“You mean, I’m food.”
Ethan chuckles. “You’re too scrawny. You wouldn’t even be filling.”
“Hey! I don’t know if I should be offended, or not?”
“Do you want to get out of here?” Ethan asks.
“Don’t we have a quiz in chemistry?”
“Come on, be adventurous.”
“Okay,” I say, not wanting to back down from a challenge.
Ethan grins, throwing the car into reverse. The horde of teenagers part. His hand grips the shifter, slamming it into gear. The tires spit gravel, the engine roars. Olivia, and the school, fade into the distance.
“You know we’re going to get suspended for skipping, right?” I say.
“Well, I guess you won’t need a ride to school in the morning, then,” he says.
“Where are we going?”
“I’ve got some place I want to show you?”
The black asphalt highway snakes by as we rumble through the canyon, winding our way up the mountainside. Yellow warning signs blur past, informing us of deer crossing zones. Somehow, I don’t think the deer pay much attention to the signs.
We drive, twisting and turning. Weaving, faster and farther and higher up the mountain, until nothing looks familiar. Ethan veers onto a gravel road, and my sense of direction is eviscerated as he winds through the maze of backroads. After several minutes, we finally reach a clearing.
The car lumbers to a halt, encircled by a thick army of evergreens. Ethan’s slides the gearshift into park and kills the ignition. Here, miles away from civilization, isolated in the middle of nowhere, I begin to wonder how long it would take someone to find my body if things went horribly wrong. I feel that slight twinge of unease in my gut, the microscopic beads of perspiration forming on my chest and in the small of my back. The air starts to feel just a little bit stuffy, like someone turned up the heat a few degrees.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“We’re going hiking.”
“You realize hiking isn’t exactly my strong suit at the moment.”
“Trust me,” he says, flashing those perfect teeth. Teeth that, I have to keep reminding myself, are capable of ripping apart flesh.
In a flash, he’s around the car, pulling open my door. He reaches in, scooping me out of my seat. My arms cling around his neck as he cradles me—my body pressed firm against his solid muscular chest. His powerful arms grip tight around my back and legs. I could dangle here forever, staring into his hypnotic blue eyes. Marveling at his magnificent cheekbones. His full lips that hover only inches from mine. I breathe deep, inhaling his clean, fresh scent.
Ethan’s eyes find my gnarled and gnashed walking boot. His face tenses. He grits his teeth as he surveys the grooves and scars in the plastic. I watch the muscles in his jaw flex.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“I told you to stay inside last night.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“One bite. One scratch is enough to turn you,” Ethan says. I hear the concern and desperation in his voice. The regret and loathing as well.
“Is being a werewolf such a bad thing?”
“Yes. And no. But it is a curse. I don’t want that for you.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
Ethan takes a long pause, surveying me with his deep eyes. “I want to see you smile.” He grins and kicks the car door shut. He carries me, ambling toward the massive trees.
“Where are we going?”
“Up there,” he says, motioning with his eyes.
Shimmering rays of dappled sunshine pierce the canopy of trees. The forest is a majestic gathering of pine, spruce, and fir. Towering and colossal, these sublime kings of the forest fill the air with a spicy aroma. A sheer cliff face of solid granite slopes toward the sky, dwarfing these giant trees. This is where Ethan is looking.
About a thousand feet up, the massive rock formation levels off. Somehow, Ethan plans to get us up there. I gaze upon the steep slope in awe, then arch an eyebrow toward Ethan.
“You’re serious?” I as
k, with extreme skepticism.
Ethan grins and continues marching toward the rock formation. As we near the base of the cliff, the massive rock becomes even more intimidating. The near vertical incline seems endless from this angle.
“I thought you cared about my well being?” I ask.
“I won’t ever let any harm come to you,” Ethan says. And for some reason, I believe him. There is a sincerity in his eyes. The kind of sincerity you only get from someone who really cares. Not the fake, I only act like I care about you because I have an agenda, type thing. But, rather, the I care about you so much I’d take a bullet for you, type thing.
Ethan cradles me over his shoulder. He slips off his shoes and socks, and lifts his foot up to find a small crevice in the granite. He wedges his foot into the groove and steps up, lifting us off the ground. He finds another ledge to curl his toes around, taking another step. Then another, and another, faster and faster, until the ground becomes a distant memory. Ethan’s powerful legs lift us up the sheer cliff face with speed and precision. Like a surefooted mountain goat he climbs the impossible slope with ease.
I feel like I’m in a glass elevator, rising up the outside wall of a skyscraper. The once towering trees look minuscule at the base of the cliff below. Sunlight beams on my face, warming my skin as the air grows cooler with the elevation. Higher and higher we climb.
We finally crest the ledge, revealing a magnificent little valley nestled between massive peaks. Ethan sets me on my feet. I am awestruck at the site. A shimmering, crystal blue pond ripples in the center of the valley.
“What do you think?” Ethan asks.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Worth the climb?”
“Absolutely. Not that I did any of the work,” I say.
“It’s my favorite place.”
My eyes soak in the stunning vista. Sparkling turquoise water, surrounded by lush greenery, framed by evergreens and towering peaks. It’s like a post card. A perfect oasis. I spin around to the ledge, gazing back at the infinite horizon. I’m sure I can see into the next state. I peer down over the edge of the cliff face at the forest below. So tiny now.
Ethan takes my arm, pulling me back from the ledge. “Don’t get carried away. It’s a long way down, and I’m not Superman.” He scoops me up again and carries me to the water’s edge. I could get used to this.
Wisps of steam rise from the surface of the water. Ethan sets me down, and I take a seat on a large boulder.
“What is this place?”
“They call it the Devil’s Pit,” he says.
“Why?”
“A lot of people have died here. Want to go for a swim?” Ethan says.
“Sorry, I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“You’re wearing underwear, aren’t you?”
“Not the same thing.”
I’m mortified. First of all, this morning when I got dressed, I wasn’t expecting anyone to see me in my bra and panties. Especially Ethan. I was thinking strictly in terms of functionality. Clean bra. Clean panties. That’s it. I wasn’t thinking in terms of seduction. I’m 99% certain that I’m wearing cute, pink cotton panties from Victoria’s Secret. Win. I know I’m wearing a nude bra. Lose. Okay, so, not the worst thing in the world, but not the sexiest of color combinations, either. And then there’s the fact that I didn’t shave my legs. Double lose.
A lot of strategic planning is going to have to happen before I take my clothes off in front of this guy. Color-coordinated underwear. Removal of all unwanted body hair. Soft lighting. Music. And at least a week of avoiding cheeseburgers. At least I have the perfect excuse right now.
“I can’t swim with my cast,” I say.
“It’s plastic.”
“Yes, but then the lining will be all wet and soggy.”
“Suit yourself.”
Ethan grabs the base of his t-shirt, lifting it up. His sculpted abs flex as his torso twists, pulling the shirt over his head. My eyes cling to his spectacular body. He tosses the shirt aside and undoes the top button on his jeans. My heart quivers and I bite my lip. His perfect fingers pull down the zipper.
Zip.
Zip.
Zip.
I see the Calvin Klein waistband. He slides the jeans down over his hips, dropping down past his thighs. Dropping down past quadriceps carved of marble. Dropping down past muscular calves. His jeans pile onto the rocky shore at his feet. He steps out of them, kicking them over to his shirt. Gleaming in the sun, he looks like an underwear model, standing there in his black, boxer briefs that hug his form like a second skin.
My heart pumps faster. Every part of my body pulses.
Ethan catches me licking my lips, and a slight grin curls across his face. He leaps into the air, piercing the water with the precision of an Olympic diver. Bubbles rise to the surface as he disappears into the depths.
I expect him to surface right away, but he doesn’t. After a minute, I get a little worried. After two minutes, I’m freaking out. I stand up, leaning over the edge of the water. Looking through the steam, down into the water, I don’t see Ethan anywhere. The clear, turquoise water seems bottomless as it fades into a deep obsidian blue. At the three minute mark, I’m a complete wreck.
I contemplate calling 911, but even if I could get a signal up here, what would anyone be able to do? I imagine it would take at least an hour to get rescue divers helicoptered in.
Just about the time my nerves completely shatter, I see a blurry shadow in the obsidian depths. Ethan emerges, streaming toward the surface amidst an array of bubbles. He splashes to the surface and draws in a deep breath.
“Jackass!” I say.
“What?” he asks, innocently.
“I thought you drowned!”
“Aw, you care.”
“No, I just didn’t want to get stuck up here.” I fold my arms and grimace at him.
“Relax. There’s an underwater passage that surfaces in a cave. Want to see?”
“No.” I say, trying to master the art of being availably aloof.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in? Legend has it these hot springs have healing powers.”
“I thought you said people died here?”
“The ones who get lost in the caves and can’t find their way out.”
“The caves that you just dove down to?” I shake my head at him. Boys are stupid.
“Just stay on the surface and you’ll be fine.”
“You just want to see me naked.”
Ethan shrugs, “Not really.” He roles forward, diving down into the water again.
I huff and grit my teeth, my face turning red. Boys = infuriating. I’ll show him. Literally. Before I have chance to really think this through—off comes my dress. I toss it in a pile next to his jeans. I try to position myself like a pinup queen, sitting on the rock. Pink panties, nude bra, unshaven legs, ugly plastic walking boot. The definition of sexy. I arch my back, sticking my chest out, trying to maximize my available assets. I feel stupid and awkward. I’m sure I look ridiculous.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trembling. I wait for what seems like an eternity. Waiting to hear the splash of Ethan surfacing.
Eons pass.
The surface of the water remains quiet.
I contemplate all the ways in which this could go wrong. What if he’s just not that into me? What if he tells all of his friends about this? What if this little adventure becomes the subject of hallway gossip in school?
Splash.
Ethan surfaces.
Waves ripple.
My eyelid’s pressed tight, I hear the wind rustle through the trees. The waves lap against the bank. The subtle splashing of Ethan treading water. I keep my eyes closed another moment. Right now, I’m Schrödinger's Cat. I’m neither dead, nor alive. Anything is possible. And all things in between. Curiosity gets the best of me, though. And you know what they say about curiosity.
I peel open one eyelid to spy on him.
Ethan bobs at
the surface, wiping the water from his face. His eyes fall upon my body for an instant, then he takes a deep breath and dives back down.
Ugh!
I want to scream. He just totally ignored me. I’m doing my best Marilyn Monroe, and all I get is, “Meh!”
I reposition myself on the rock. Back arched even more. Chest out even farther. Tummy tucked in tighter. I tilt my head back, my hair dangling off my shoulders. Marilyn Monroe, eat your heart out.
CHAPTER 22
ETHAN SPLASHES TO the surface again. This time, it seems, I have his full attention. He stares awkwardly, with eyes as big as Texas.
Feeling confident, I decide to own this moment. I do my best to make my eyes smolder and look sultry.
Ethan gulps hard, speechless.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” I ask.
“Um. You’ve got a…”
“A what?”
That’s when I see it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see it’s evil black wings. It’s red abdomen of hate. It’s stinger of fury. It’s thorax of tyranny. A depraved red wasp flutters on my shoulder.
I freak out.
The echo of my shrieking scream bounces off the stone walls and craggy peaks. I leap from my perch, spinning and flailing. The black wings of death buzz so close it vibrates my eardrum. I dodge and duck, finally plunging into the water to escape.
Ethan is laughing his ass off.
I hide with my eyes just barely above the surface of the water, darting around looking for the insidious creature.
“It probably wasn’t going to sting you,” Ethan says.
“I don’t care. I didn’t give him permission to touch me.”
“You know, wasps serve a very important ecological function,” he says.
“And they can keep on serving that function as long as they don’t do it near me.”
“You think a wasp sting hurts? Try getting bit by a vampire.”