The Rising dr-3

by Kelley Armstrong

  And . . . Well, that was the obstacle I hadn’t quite overcome yet. While I was happy to just be with him and talk to him and goof around with him, I could think of more I’d like to do. Enough to make me very glad no one could tell I was blushing. I settled for averting my eyes and focusing on the climb.

  “Almost there!” Daniel called. “Pick it up a little! You can do it. You already beat Ash.”

  “My hand slipped,” Ash muttered from somewhere above.

  I looked up at Daniel again, caught his grin, and felt an extra jolt of adrenaline zip through me. Get to him. Just focus on that. Getting to him. Two more handholds. One more. Now reach—

  “We have a winner!” Daniel shouted, and pulled me up for my victory hug.

  We had our little party after that. I’d had pizza delivered by one of Moreno’s security guys. They’re very useful for that sort of thing. The Nasts aren’t keen on announcing our presence to the outside world, so we can’t order anything in, and the nearest village of any size is a thirty-minute drive down crappy roads, meaning our parents aren’t eager to just “run into town” for us. That’s what the security guys are for, apparently. It’s not like we require much actual security.

  We’re more isolated than we were in Salmon Creek, but we’re dealing with it. Monthly helicopter trips into Toronto help. They give us the Friday off so we can make a three-day weekend of it. They aren’t yet letting us go without our parents—and Moreno’s men—but we’re working on that.

  So we had our pizza-and-beer party. Derek and Chloe slipped out as soon as he got his pizza, Chloe saying they’d be back for the cake and gifts. Like Ash, Derek wasn’t good with crowds. Or parties. Simon had no such reservations. He’d made himself a part of our group from the start. I had wondered if that would bother Derek, but it didn’t seem to. He was happy to relinquish his brother to us and hang out with him other times.

  Tori wasn’t exactly a core part of our group. Neither was Hayley. They’d become fast friends, and tended to keep to themselves, though they’d join us for group events like this. I’d found a friend in the Genesis group, too. Or we were working in that direction. Chloe was still quiet, a little unsure of herself, most comfortable with Derek and her “tribe,” but we hung out together more and more, which was nice. She didn’t quite take Serena’s place but was filling that void.

  Of the Phoenix kids, the one Derek got along best with was Daniel. In him, Daniel had found a good sparring partner. And a plotting partner, too. Derek wasn’t just the biggest and strongest in our group. He was also the smartest. Scary, off-the-charts smart. That intimidated Daniel a little at first—he’s bright, but he needs to work for his grades. But Derek wasn’t a show-off or a know-it-all, so they got past that and we would hang out together, the two guys, Chloe, and I planning and plotting our future, bouncing ideas off one another.

  As for romance among the others, there was little of that so far. Corey and Hayley had taken another run at it, but I think Corey just felt bad about how he’d treated her before and when they tried again, they realized it wasn’t really a good match. Ash and Tori snarled and snapped at each other enough that I thought there might be something there . . . if they didn’t kill each other first. And Sam? Well, there was no one for Sam, which was one of the problems with our isolation. Even for the heterosexual kids, you couldn’t expect everyone to just pair up out of necessity. A bigger dating pool was needed. I’d told Sean that. He understood and was working on ways to get us involved with our larger community, maybe lessons of some sort in a nearby city.

  So life in Badger Lake wasn’t perfect. But as much as we might hate to admit it, it was good. Really good. It wasn’t a forever kind of life, but when I chafed at the boundaries, I had only to look at the kids who’d grown up on the run—Ash, Derek, Simon, Rafe, Annie, and Sam—and see them relaxing and flourishing, and I’d know we’d made the right choice.

  “Okay,” Daniel said as we picked our way along the boggy path. “You stay right there while I find a place to release these guys. And no peeking. I don’t want you knowing where I’m hiding potential snacks for cougar-time.”

  “Ha, ha,” I said as I hopped over a wet patch. “I keep myself well fed before I shift. Fixing animals up only to hunt them down would be kind of pointless.”

  “Or diabolically clever. They’d smell you, think food was coming, run over to greet you, and . . . chomp.”

  I made a face at him. “It’s Ash we need to worry about. Ever since he started shifting, I’ve noticed him gazing longingly at the animal shed. I’ve told Dad we need pick-proof locks.”

  Daniel laughed and waved me off the path. We’d left Kenjii behind. Fitz was out here, somewhere, but he knew to keep away when I had prey animals or he’d find himself locked in the shed. We continued to a drier spot, over by the cliff. I found a deadfall and we opened the box. The rabbits—orphaned by a mama-bunny-killing hawk—made their way out. They sniffed around, then zoomed off, some making a break for freedom, some zipping under the deadfall to safety.

  “You’re welcome!” I called after them, then muttered, “Ingrates.”

  Daniel laughed. “Good prep for having kids, I bet.” He glanced over. “Back to the subject of snacks, did I hear that there’s food in that basket?”

  “Yes. For those of us who didn’t eat five slices of pizza and two pieces of cake.”

  “I’m in training.”

  “You’re always in training.”

  “That’s why I’m always eating.”

  We kept talking as we continued on a little, closer to the cliff, looking until we found just the right picnic spot. Then I set out the blanket and we ate. We talked more, mostly about issues we were working on with our powers. Dr. Fellows—Lauren—had been monitoring me over the winter and concluded, after consultation with others doctors, that my “rage attacks” were indeed a form of regression. She’d been treating me, like they’d treated Annie, but I’d asked for fewer drugs and more training to learn to control it. That seemed to be working.

  Daniel was dealing with some anger-management side effects of his own. In his case, it wasn’t misplaced rage, but a disproportional reaction to a threat. Like a bull seeing red. Sam was experiencing the same side effect, and probably had been for longer. Daniel was dealing with his in the same way I was—some drugs, lots of training, and talk, the two of us hashing it out, what caused it, how we dealt with it. Mutual support and kicks-in-the-ass when needed.

  As we finished, we compared schedules for the week. Life was busier now than it had been in Salmon Creek. Busier and more complex. Not just the added complications of dealing with and working on our powers, but personal stuff, too. I had Ash and Antone to factor into my life. Daniel was dealing with his brothers, one of whom wanted to come live in Badger Lake for the summer. He was pre-med and the Cabal had offered him work here, then wanted him to go to medical school in Toronto. Daniel was happy to have his brother around, but not really sure how he felt about him joining a Cabal. He was coming tomorrow for a birthday visit . . . and a recruitment chat. So, yes, complications.

  “Is your Wednesday still free?” I asked. “I can slot you in for Wednesday.”

  A short laugh. “Yeah, it’s starting to feel like that, isn’t it? Yes, keep Wednesday night free and we’ll hang out. Also, don’t forget we’re driving into the city Saturday. Just the two of us. Not a word of it to the others until we’re five kilometers away.”

  “Trust me, I know better. Mention ‘field trip’ and we’ll be stacking them into your truck like cordwood.”

  Yes, Daniel had a truck. No, it wasn’t his old, falling-apart one. It wasn’t brand-new, but the Nasts diligently rewarded responsibility. Daniel could be trusted not to take off at midnight and go partying in the next town, so Daniel got his own truck. Corey had a bicycle.

  “Do we have plans for this trip to town?” I asked.

  “Lunch and a movie, I thought. Maybe dinner, too, if your folks are okay with you coming back late.”


  “Oooh, that almost sounds like a date.”

  Spots of color flushed his cheeks and he forced a laugh. “Yeah.”

  I reached for a brownie and asked, as nonchalantly as I could manage, “And what if I wanted it to be a date?”

  “What?”

  I steeled myself, struggling to calm my racing heart, and forced my gaze to his. “What if I wanted it to be a date?”

  He tried for a laugh, but didn’t quite find it, then rubbed at his mouth, his gaze dipping from mine. He cleared his throat and unfolded his legs, shifting position. Then he looked at me again, his gaze wary, guarded.

  “Is that a no?” I said.

  “No. I mean . . .” He struggled for the smile again. “I’m just waiting for the punch line. Something about making it a date so I need to pay. Or you expecting flowers. Or . . .” He trailed off.

  “There isn’t a punch line,” I said.

  I rose onto my knees and inched over, in front of him. Then I stopped about a foot away.

  “No punch line, Daniel,” I said. “I’m asking if you’ll go out with me.”

  He didn’t answer. Just reached out, his hand sliding between my hair and face, pulling me toward him and . . .

  And he kissed me.

  His lips touched mine, tentatively, still unsure, and I eased closer, my arms going around his neck. He kissed me for real then, a long kiss that I felt in the bottom of my soul, a click, a connection, some deep part of me saying, “Yes, this is it.”

  Even when the kiss broke off, it didn’t end. It was like coming to the surface for a quick gasp of air, then plunging back down again, finding that sweet spot again, and holding onto it for as long as we could. Finally it tapered off, and we were lying on the picnic blanket, side by side, his hand on my hip, kissing slower now, with more breaks for air, until I said, “We should have done that sooner.”

  He smiled, a lazy half smile, and he just looked at me for a moment, our gazes locked, lying there in drowsy happiness, before he said, “I think now’s just fine.” And he kissed me again, slower and softer now, as we rested there, eyes half closed.

  “So, about Saturday, did you ask me?” he said after a minute. “Because I’m pretty sure that means you’re paying.”

  “Nope. You were imagining it. Considering how you eat, the meal bill is all yours. But I will spring for the movie. And bring you flowers.”

  He chuckled. “Will you?”

  “Yep, a dozen pink roses, which you’ll have to carry all night or risk offending me.”

  “And what happens if I offend you?”

  “You don’t get any more of this.”

  I leaned in and kissed him again. And we stayed out there, on the blanket, as the sun fell, talking and kissing, mostly, just being together. We had a long road ahead of us, and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I had everything I wanted—everything I needed—and I’d get through it just fine. We all would.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  FIRST, A HUGE THANK-YOU to my agent, Sarah Heller, for taking my dream of writing YA and making it a reality. And an equally huge thanks to the editors who took a chance on this new direction of mine—Rosemary Brosnan at HarperCollins US, Antonia Hodgson of Atom UK, and Anne Collins and Kristin Cochrane at Doubleday Canada.

  A special thanks goes out to my beta readers for this series. Stephanie Drum, Terri Giesbrecht, Matt Sievers, Nicole Tom, and Sharon Young all read early copies of most of the books and helped keep me from making some humiliating mistakes. Thanks, guys!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  KELLEY ARMSTRONG is the bestselling author of the Darkest Powers trilogy, which includes THE SUMMONING, THE AWAKENING, and THE RECKONING. This is the third book in her New York Times bestselling Darkness Rising trilogy. You can visit Kelley online at www.darkestpowers.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors and artists.

  ALSO BY KELLEY ARMSTRONG

  THE DARKEST POWERS TRILOGY

  The Summoning

  The Awakening

  The Reckoning

  THE DARKNESS RISING TRILOGY

  The Gathering

  The Calling

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