by Alessa James
“Lizzie invited us to have lunch with them again,” I told him as he put his arm around me.
Looking up at him, I laughed at his expression.
“And I thought I was the one who hated the cafeteria,” I teased.
“I enjoy having you to myself,” Will said simply.
“Me, too. And I get you for a full twenty minutes now. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
Walking toward the classroom I was beginning to think of as ours, it occurred to me again how much had changed since I first saw him. My life had changed. A little more than two weeks ago, I couldn’t even have imagined being kissed by someone. That my first kiss would be with be with Will Kincaid? Impossible.
It wasn’t all roses and hearts, though, and I knew that. By loving Will, I was putting my life at risk. But the real question was: what about everyone else around me? They hadn’t chosen to risk their lives. My dad? Sean? Was I putting them in danger? I swallowed at the thought of how easily Will had nearly killed at least five people. What was his enemy capable of?
As we walked into the empty classroom, Will led me to the waist-high back counter, easily lifting me. He reached out and brushed my cheek with his fingertips.
“What’s with you and this counter?” I laughed, reaching back to pat the surface.
“It does quite nicely to even our height disparity, don’t you think?”
My smile faded. Disparity. That single word did a lot to describe us—and not just our height difference. Will and I together were disparate. There was no denying it.
Chapter 15: Price of Love
At lunch, Will and I got to the cafeteria before the others. While I pulled out my leftover pizza, fruit, and water bottle, Will didn’t bother with food this time. When the others began filing in, Lizzie sat down on my other side with Sean across from her. Lizzie’s friend Megan found a seat at the end of the table across from Will, forcing Jeff to wedge himself awkwardly between her and Sean. Amy and Matt found seats across from each other at the other end of the table next to Lizzie—who immediately began talking about Friday’s shopping trip. Sean rolled his eyes and gestured to the guys.
“Poker night while the ladies are shopping?”
“Maybe another time?” Will asked evenly. “I have plans I can’t break.”
“Sunday work for you guys, then? Seven-thirty?” Sean pressed.
Will nodded, and I almost pitied Sean for the money he was going to lose.
“Who wants to drive?” Lizzie asked.
I stayed quiet, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that I didn’t have my license.
“Oh, never mind,” Lizzie said. “I’ll just borrow my mom’s since it’s bigger. Everyone want to meet up after school on Friday in the parking lot?”
I nodded and smiled, but I liked the idea of hanging out with Megan less and less. I could only imagine being trapped in a vehicle with her and then going dress shopping. I had managed to avoid every school dance before moving to Winters, so I wasn’t exactly a dress shopping pro.
Suddenly Will reached up and placed his hand at the back of my neck, drawing me in for a less-than-chaste kiss. I blushed when he pulled away, and that’s when I noticed that the table had become silent. Looking around, I caught Megan staring icily in my direction. I winced, feeling the envy emanating from her. Seeing me, she turned away to ask Jeff a question and then laughed a little too enthusiastically at his response. Jeff looked surprised, but relieved by the sudden attention. After lunch, as Will walked me to my locker, I looked down.
“Why did you do that at lunch?”
He squeezed my hand and gave me an innocent look.
“Am I not permitted to kiss my girlfriend?”
I waited for the truth, and Will sighed.
“I wanted Sean’s friend Jeff to know that his attention is better directed elsewhere.”
“Huh?” I frowned.
I had been so focused on Megan’s wrath that I hadn’t even noticed Jeff. Will’s expression darkened.
“That boy has wanted you since Sean first introduced you.”
I shook my head.
“No way. He’s barely said two words to me.”
Will gave me a pointed look.
“And what about Megan?” I pointed out. “She would gladly kill me off me if it meant she got to go to the dance with you. In fact, every girl in school wants you.”
Actually any girl or woman in a five-mile radius probably wanted him. I smiled, trying not to look like I cared as much as I did. Even right now, I knew if I looked up, I would catch half a dozen looks directed at Will. All the attention hurtling in his direction was hard to ignore.
“And I want you,” he said.
I studied him.
“How do you know you won’t change your mind—about me, I mean?”
I wasn’t asking him to be insecure or bitchy. I just wanted to understand from Will’s perspective since I couldn’t understand. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, and I shivered as his lips grazed my skin.
“I will want you forever.”
We stopped outside of Ms. Fielding’s room, and Will pulled me to him, kissing me until I was lightheaded. I stumbled into class and walked over to where Lizzie was. She laughed, snapping me out of my trance.
“He can’t keep his hands off of you.”
“Oh, yeah. Like you can talk! Sean’s like a puppy.”
I panted a little, causing Lizzie to giggle and blush.
“God, I’m going to feel so bad if you don’t come to the dance with us,” she said seriously. “You should totally go.”
I smiled crookedly and took out my books. I didn’t have a good excuse for not going to the dance—or at least I didn’t have a reason that didn’t sound crazy. Going through my assignments, I was relieved that I had already finished For Whom the Bell Tolls, especially after Ms. Gilbert had announced an in-class essay. From the groans that had swept through class, it was easy to tell that most people hadn’t finished the book.
For a second, I tried to imagine hating reading and loving math, but I just couldn’t do it. I lost myself in stories; math just lost me. It was like trying to imagine feeling the way I felt with Will—with another person. It was just impossible.
About halfway through the period, I turned and looked out the window toward the student parking lot. At the very far end, I saw Will’s incredibly out-of-place car. Someone in a hooded sweatshirt was sitting on the Aston’s bumper, looking in my direction. I watched, frozen, as the person raised a hand and pointed in my direction. I froze. There was a monster hunting me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“You okay?” Lizzie whispered.
I turned toward her and nodded, and by the time I looked out the window again, the figure that had been sitting on the hood of Will’s car had disappeared. Everything passed in a blur after that. I didn’t even realize that Will hadn’t met me at the end of fifth until after sixth when Sean and I were leaving class. Sean stopped and clapped his hand over his mouth in mock horror—and that was when it clicked that Will was still missing.
“That is a first. Your boyfriend’s late. I actually haven’t seen you without him once this week.”
I stared around the hallway, a cold feeling of dread settling in the pit of my stomach. Sean nudged me.
“So, what’s up? Do you want a ride?”
“Yeah … sure,” I said slowly, reaching down to check my phone for a text from Will.
“I’ll meet you in the parking lot, ’kay?”
I nodded and started walking toward my locker, my knees weakening as I thought about seeing Fidatov sitting on Will’s car. It must have been him; it was the only explanation. And what if Will had gone after him? Opening my locker and shoving my books into my bag, I walked through the emptying halls toward the exit. Stepping outside, I felt a pair of hands clamp over my eyes. Swinging back with my elbow, I connected with someone’s ribcage.
“Ouch! Damn, Casey. It’s just me.”
“Sean! Not cool!”
I yelled breathlessly.
“Well, you didn’t have to freaking Krav Maga my ass.”
“Then don’t sneak up on me!”
“Never again,” he said, rubbing his ribs.
“Hey, where’s Lizzie today?”
“Dentist appointment.”
“Oh.”
As we walked to his car, Sean kept asking why I was in such a hurry. Blushing, I slowed down as I realized that I had gotten used to trying to keep pace with an immortal.
“So what do you think about the Jeff-Megan thing?” Sean asked.
I wanted to say Jeff could do better, but I didn’t.
“Considering she’s got a thing for Will?” I asked. “I’d say if he thinks anything’s gonna happen, he’s setting himself up for pain.”
“Yeah, he didn’t seem that into her at first. Then today he was talking about asking her to the dance.”
“He was?” I asked distractedly.
“Uh, yeah.”
I would have asked Sean for details, but I was too busy worrying about Will. Getting into the passenger seat of Sean’s car, I breathed in the familiar smell of mint gum and struggled to remember the last time I had gotten a ride from him. It felt like a lifetime ago. After a minute, I noticed the uncharacteristic silence and looked over at Sean.
“Hey. Why so quiet?” I asked.
“How come you didn’t tell me about you and Will?” Sean asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
He sounded hurt, and I squirmed.
“Sean, you know I love you, and I would’ve told you, but the whole thing with Will kind of took me by surprise. You know, kind of like you and Lizzie.”
It wasn’t totally true, but it wasn’t totally a lie, either.
“She’s great, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. I think you guys are perfect together.”
Sean pulled up in front of my house, but I didn’t get out.
“Does your dad know about Will?” he asked seriously.
I winced, remembering what my dad had said last night. She’s all I have left.
“He found out last night. It was … awkward.”
“Try being the guy. I get to meet Lizzie’s parents on Saturday before we go to the movies,” Sean exhaled. “Her mom insisted on being formally introduced.”
He rolled his eyes and looked out the window.
“You’ll be fine. My dad loves you,” I reminded him before grabbing my bag and jumping out of the car.
I turned when I heard the window roll down.
“Hey! Give me a call if Prince Charming isn’t going to pick you up in the morning,” Sean called out the window.
I waved and then hurried toward the house. Letting myself in, I called out to see if my dad had gotten home early, but all I could hear was Darcy as he charged toward me, almost knocking me to the ground. Crouching, I accepted a lick on the face before letting him into the back yard. I took an apple from the counter and grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator before going into the living room and pressing play on my dad’s old CD player, anxious to drown out the silence. Pink Floyd. I skipped to my favorite track. Will wasn’t the only one who had teased me for my taste in music. My dad was always saying that I had been born in the wrong era.
Finishing my snack, I turned off the music and brought my stuff upstairs. When I sat down at my desk, I almost regretted finishing most of my homework during the study period. Expecting to spend time with Will after school, I now had nothing to distract myself from the gnawing fear that something had gone wrong.
At my nightstand, I picked up my e-reader before tossing it on the bed. Sighing, I started collecting laundry and went down the hall to my dad’s room to add his. After sorting everything and starting the washer, I returned upstairs and sat down in front of my new computer, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I clicked open the Web browser and searched incubus.
The picture that came up made me shudder. The painting, entitled The Nightmare, painted by Henry Fuseli in 1781, depicted a sleeping woman with her arms flung behind her head. Perched on her chest was a hideous fanged, troll-like creature. To make things even creepier, an empty-eyed black horse peered at them from behind a drape. If I hadn’t been so creeped out, I might have laughed. This creature was the exact opposite of Will in every way imaginable, and apparently humans were way off in their renderings of what an incubus looked like.
Drumming my fingers on the desk, I ran a search for the local newspaper, re-reading the article that had freaked out Mrs. Hendrix. Pausing, I typed in a new search for news outlets close to St. John’s and then searched for newspapers on Canada’s eastern seaboard. When I expanded the results to include the past three months, I found a brief article detailing a missing person case filed in Toronto. It was about a college student visiting from New York who hadn’t returned for fall classes. The article included a picture that looked like an old high school photo of the missing man. I felt the blood leaving my face when I saw the name: Patrick Kincaid. He had been reported missing more than two months ago, according to the article.
Further down in the list of search results, I saw another article, this one about two tourists from Germany who had gone missing after a night of drinking in a bar in Montreal. It was dated two weeks before the previous news report. Opening another window, I typed map of North America into the search bar. Tracing my finger from St. John’s to Montreal and Montreal to Toronto, I typed Chicago missing persons. A long list of articles came up. Then I saw something about two salesmen from Florida who had disappeared outside of Chicago during a convention. One of the names was Charles Winters.
I kept typing city names, looking for missing person reports. Nothing. I had just started to relax when I saw something about a small town in Wisconsin. Three men on an overnight hunting trip for black bear had never come home. One of the men’s names was Bill St. John, full name William St. John. I searched South Dakota next. Four hikers on a multi-day backpacking trip had never retrieved their car from a parking lot in Black Hills National Forest. One of the names of the missing was John Williams. My fingers shook as I searched for news in Montana. A group of three ranch hands. All police had found was a Chevy pickup on the side of the road. Some blood, but no sign of the men. I searched Idaho next. A twenty-three-year-old man waiting tables north of Boise during the off-season had left work late one night. He hadn’t been seen since again. His name was Will Jennings.
Taking out my U.S. History textbook, I flipped to the map and drew a line from St. John’s in Canada to Oregon. My hands went clammy as I dropped the pencil on the desk. Inhaling, I thought back to the night in the park when Will had talked about receiving a message that someone had wanted him to return here. And I had simply absorbed it as another of Will’s ambiguous statements that I would never understand.
Or was the trail of missing people from Canada to Oregon the message that had brought Will here?
I shivered as I clicked through the pictures of the missing, knowing that unless someone knew what to look for, it was unlikely that anyone would ever make the connection between these seemingly random missing person reports, especially since the trail had begun in Canada and then spanned half a dozen states in the U.S. Law enforcement might notice in a couple of decades—if any bodies were ever found. It would end up being a cold case mystery on one of those shows. My stomach lurched, and I took a shallow breath.
“Aven.”
I pushed away from the desk with so much force that my chair flipped backwards. An arm shot out and caught me before I hit the ground. Turning, I looked up at Will. Then I swung out in frustration. He caught my hand before I could connect with his chest.
“That’s going to hurt you, not me,” Will said gently.
“Dammit, Will!”
His eyes flickered to the computer screen.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would help to frighten you any more than you already were.”
“This …” I waved to the screen. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
“
Yes.”
“Are all those people dead?” I asked woodenly.
Will nodded once.
“And that was what brought you back here?”
But I already knew the answer. I looked down. He was still holding my hand in his.
“That’s more than a dozen people who won’t go home to their families. And it was all to bring you back here …”
My head started to spin, and I couldn’t help visualizing the last terrifying moments of Fidatov’s victims.
“Why didn’t he just kill me like all the others?”
“They were bait; you’re the endgame.”
My stomach lurched again, and my legs began to shake. In an instant, Will had gathered me up and carried me to the bed, setting me down gently like I might break. A stab of pain pierced me as I thought about what Fidatov was capable of.
“What about my dad? Sean? What if he …” kills everyone I love?
I turned and watched Will’s face closely.
“Fidatov,” Will hissed the name, “would never risk such a direct attack until he is certain he has the advantage. But make no mistake. You represent a reasonable risk to him. If he thinks I’ve dropped my guard, he will take you.”
I shivered and tucked my legs beneath me.
“Where did you go today?”
“I followed him. All the way to Portland. And I imagine he was pleased when he evaded me and doubled back—until he found Edmond waiting for him.”
Will smiled bitterly.
“Edmond?” I asked.
“Yes. You’ll meet him this weekend.”
“He was the one watching me while you were gone?”
Will nodded.
“What did you tell him about me?” I asked.
“That I love you beyond reason.”
“Oh,” I blushed.
“He says I’ve gone girl crazy.”
“But he’s okay with me being … human?” I asked, blushing.
Will nodded again.
“And Gen cannot wait to meet you. She doesn’t believe I’ve fallen in love. Her exact words were: Il est fou à lier.”
“What does that mean?” I frowned.
“Literally?” Will laughed. “Crazy as a loon.”