by Kris Kendall
****
In all truths, I should have been appalled by his audacity. I only just met the guy. He had some serious nerve thinking I would just up and go anywhere with him. What annoyed me most was the fact that, if he asked, I probably would.
Beside me, Brad staggered a moment. His face bunched into one of confusion as he tried to weigh what this new bit of information meant. For the hundredth time that night, I again asked myself why. Why was I with this guy? Then I remembered. That’s right, because he asked me and I thought, ‘Oh my God! The hottest guy in school was asking me to the Halloween bonfire.’ Five minutes after arriving, I was ready to leave. Brad was as interesting as a rusty nail and his friends — who I knew everything about, but they didn’t know a thing about me — I may as well not have existed. I was the outcast. The band geek. They were as surprised by Brad asking me as I was. Our circles were as far apart as Pluto and Earth, yet, somehow, during one of his many orbits around himself, Brad had caught a flickering glimpse of me and decided that I was the girl he wanted to grope all night.
Lucky. Me.
Nevertheless, if he grabbed me again, I was prepared to kick his boys up into his throat and walk the two hours home.
“Whatever, man,” Brad muttered at long last. He began walking away. “Come on, Nora. The guys are ready to start the game.”
“What game?” Keane interrupted smoothly, neatly keeping his hands behind his back and his expression choirboy innocent.
Brad scowled. “What’s it to you?”
Keane shrugged. “Well, seeing as how I’m being gracious enough to let you use my land… the least you can do is tell me.”
The muscles in Brad’s jaw bunched as if he were chewing steal. “Hide and seek!” he barked finally.
A brow winged up on Keane’s triangular face. “The children’s game?”
Brad bristled. “It’s a tradition!”
Long, slender hands went up. Keane shook his head casually. “No offense meant. Please,” he flicked his wrist airily, “continue.”
I couldn’t fault Brad for looking bemused, a little wary. There was nothing in Keane’s posture to indicate he was making a mockery of the time honored tradition, yet, everything from the way he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops to the tilt of his head sizzled with amusement.
“Come on, Nora,” Brad said at last, his narrowed, blue eyes trained on Keane. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Perhaps she would rather stay with me,” Keane said smoothly. “I’d be more than happy to keep her… entertained.” Warm ripples shivered down my spine at the dark intent.
Brad bared his teeth. “Hey, man, back off!”
“Should I leave you two to break out the tape measures?” I interjected before Brad’s head could explode. “How about you ask the piece of meat what she wants?”
Keane turned to me. “All right, darling. What would you like?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I want to go home.”
Brad’s face drooped. “But the games are about to begin!”
“A compromise then.” Keane stepped forward to take the spot next to me, long, slender fingers tapping his pointy chin. “One quick game. I’ll even be… it.”
Brad’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “What’s the catch?”
Keane clasped his hands behind his back and gave an offhand shrug. “Only that if I find you, you stay. If I don’t, you go home.”
“It’s only fair,” Keane continued in that hypnotic voice of his when Brad hesitated.
Brad didn’t have to take Keane up on his offer. He and his friends could go to a different place to continue their evening. But it was tradition. It had to be here, in these woods, on this night, although, I doubted anyone knew why. The tradition was so old, the story behind it was no longer even clear.
Keane turned the full force of those eyes on me, and something in me shifted, liquefied… sighed. “Please stay, darling?”
One game. What harm could one game do?
“Fine, but I still think this is a stupid game.”
His smile was slow, devastatingly brilliant. “Aye, as do I, but I think we’ll both get what we want in the end.”
I swallowed hard for no reason at all.
Giving me a wink that made my knees dissolve, Keane went back to giving Brad his full attention. “All right?”
“Let’s do it!” Brad gave a clap of his hands. “I’ll round everyone up.”
He ambled off, leaving me alone with the angel of sin. As though sensing my anxious nerves, those dark pools swerved to the corners of his eyes and pinned mine. Something hot and paralyzing shot through me.
Moonlight spilled over the ridges of his shoulders, trickling down smooth breastplates and a chiseled abdomen. I tried not to trace every line with my eyes.
“Aren’t you cold?” I blurted stupidly.
He turned his head ever so slightly in my direction. One eyebrow winged up. “I’ll gladly say yes if ya promise to keep me warm.” He twisted his entire body so we were face-to-face, barely separated by a foot of space. His teeth flashed in a slow, sly grin when I shivered. “Or would ya like me to do the warming?”
Yes!
“I’m fine!” I muttered, turning my gaze stubbornly forward.
He gave a soft chuckle. “That you certainly are.”
I ignored the sly implication.
“All right, listen up!” Brad’s commanding voice carried over the small crowd now gathered around us.
Grateful for the distraction, I watched my date rather than the insanity pulling me to the left and the stranger still watching me, touching me with his eyes.
“Who’s the guy?” someone shouted from the back.
“He going to be it,” Brad said. “Everyone scatter!”
Whoops and hollers filled the clearing as the crowd dispersed, running blindly, a bit wildly into the woods.
Brad took my hand, his palms rough and sweaty. “Come on!”
I nearly tripped on the hem of my skirt as he dragged me forward. “Wait—” I had no idea why, but I didn’t want to go! I didn’t want to leave.
With a mind of its own, my head whipped around over my shoulder. Tendrils of hair flew across my face, momentarily keeping me from the solitary figure standing in the distance, cloaked in the light of the fire. His dark hair fluttered at his back like a sleek cape. His eyes… his eyes burned straight into me.
“You will be mine soon enough.”
Maybe it was the play of fire light splashing across his face, or just a trick of the night, but I could have sworn his lips never moved.