“No.” He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers.
“I made sure your dad wasn’t there.”
He nods. “If he finds out—if the elders catch a whiff of this—there’ll be hell to pay.”
We’re both risking everything for the ones we love, all because of a stupid set of rules and genetics.
After a minute, I say, “I’d better get home or Dad will be hunting you.”
Seb chuckles. “Not anymore.”
Not wanting to take my chances, I buckle my seatbelt and head for home.
Home is a word that should invoke happiness and security. In me, it doesn’t, not anymore. I no longer feel safe anywhere. Which I surmise is what Ash has been aiming for. Threatening to blow up my school, burn my house down, hanging around the café.
I park behind Dad’s SUV. “Can you stay?”
“You’ll have to take that up with your father. I’ve already used up my one night this week.”
“Hm.”
He tucks me under his arm as we march up the steps. The charred front door has been replaced with a new one. My key won’t work. I tap a knuckle on the wood.
A second later, it opens and Dad says, “Come in! Like the new door?”
It’s identical to our old one, sans the blackened stains. “Yep.” I dump my bag in the hall. “Can Seb stay?”
Dad’s eyes roam over my features, scanning the tension. “Okay. But don’t expect I’ll bend the rules every week.”
Can he tell it’s been a shit day? Am I that much of an open book?
“I don’t, sir.” Seb settles onto the couch, pulling me down next to him.
“I’ll fix us all some dinner. I don’t know about you kids, but I’m starved.” Dad wanders into the kitchen.
I press my lips to Seb’s for a long moment.
Dad’s voice drifts in, teasing. “Break it up.”
I giggle. How did he know?
“I was your age once,” he says.
Seb touches his lips to my forehead, and then nose. I have homework to do, but I’m too content and tired to move.
So,” Seb says. “What’d ya think of the movie?”
We dart across the traffic-clogged street and into a quieter one.
“Hm, not enough gore in it.” I swing our hands between us.
“Is that so?” He laughs, pressing me against the side panel of his car.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, how come you look a little green?” Smirking, he raises an eyebrow in question.
I brush my fingers over his cheek. “So do you.”
He hangs his head. “Arms were being ripped off, flying everywhere. Blood spurted from arteries. It was repulsive.” He looks at me through his long lashes. “I’d gladly see any romance movie you want after that.”
Snickering, I pull his face closer to mine. “You would?”
He leans in to kiss me.
I pull back half an inch, teasing. “Right now?”
“You have a curfew of ten o’clock remember?” He lifts his wrist to my level. “And oh, look, it’s nine-fifty.”
“I can call Dad, tell him I’m having such a fun time, and he’ll let me stay out.”
“You think so, huh?”
“Yeah, after the week I’ve had, he’ll—”
“Hey, there they are!” someone says from further down the street.
Six shadows lope towards us.
My spine tingles in alarm. The little voice inside my brain screams, Ambush! Ambush! They’re here to dismember me like the girl on the screen!
Seb squeezes my hand and shoves me behind him, wedging me between the car and his body. I risk a peek around him. The tallest shadow hovers under a streetlight for a moment as they near. The blood-red eyes wink at me. A low growl shakes in Seb’s chest. They’re at the car now, only a few steps away.
Seb’s form vibrates, like a leaf in the wind. He shoves me further away. But my legs are locked and the fear of abandoning him ricochets through me.
His head snaps over his shoulder to glare at me. “Get in the car.” He presses something warm into my palm—the keys.
He can’t be serious. Can I leave him here to die?
A hand snakes around Seb, and Tas seizes a fistful of my shirt. I’m jerked violently to the left.
“Let her go,” Seb snarls, his arms constricting around my waist, straining to keep me in place.
“Or what?” Tas says. “We don’t owe you anything, traitor.”
“She’s not a part of this.”
“She’s every part of this.” A vicious smile.
I wince as Tas’ grip on my forearm reaches bone-crushing strength.
“Let. Her. Go.” Seb shoves him.
Tas stumbles backwards, releasing me. One moment, I’m rubbing my arm as Seb opens the passenger door, hurrying me inside. The next, four of them are on us. Seb shuts the door, trapping me inside his SUV.
They jostle him, tearing at his clothes and skin.
I’ve got to do something. But what?
While they’re occupied, I slide across to the driver’s side and punch the lock button. All the doors snap, locked. Safe. I grab my cell phone and scroll through its phonebook. Who to call?
A fist shatters the window’s tempered glass, snatches my cell, and pitches it into the on-coming traffic. It reaches back in for me. I scuttle back and kick at the arm. It grabs my shoe, yanking me forwards. My scream pierces the night. There’s a keening, a screech, and then a gray muzzle appears. Its canines latch on to the arm, drawing blood, forcing it to release my foot.
I climb over, into the back, trying not to look too closely at any of them.
Seb’s cell. He left it here, but where? Do I risk venturing to check?
A howl scrapes through the broken window. I glance out. Three of them are on him, Wolf-Seb fighting to get up.
Seb, please don’t die. I scramble for his cell. It’s tucked in the console. They’re distracted—I drop it into my pocket, not wanting another battle that I would surely lose this time. I slink back to my seat, check to see if anyone is watching. No. I find Kat’s number and wait.
Two rings. Three, four.
Finally, he picks up. “Yo?”
“It’s Cass. I don’t have time to explain. Get your ass down to Apple Way. Seb’s in trouble.” I hang up and stuff the handset under my leg.
A minute later, Kat charges down the asphalt. He sees Seb, under four of them now, and jumps—shifting midair, landing as a midnight puma.
And I realize that I’ve selfishly put him at risk to save my boyfriend. Stupid.
He tears into one of them as they rip into Seb. I turn away, queasy.
A sickening thought crashes through my mind. Where’s Ash and the other newbie? Watching from somewhere? This twists my stomach. I wish I wasn’t a weakling. Human.
Tap tap tap tap. I freeze, feeling eyes searing into the back of my neck. Tap tap tap tap. I slowly swivel in the direction of the noise. A raven rapping its beak against the rear window. Irises as black as its soul. It cranes its slick, feathery head—eyes curious and scrutinizing me. Tap tap tap. The bird’s features shift—beak to nose, wings to arms, claws to legs, feathers to inky, black hair and light caramel skin. He crouches on the trunk.
The newbie. His eyes seem kind and gentle, akin to Seb’s. Something inside me says I can trust him.
It could be a lie. A trick.
His eyes swerve from me, to the monsters, and then back.
I take a chance, one that could end me if I’m wrong—could mean the difference between saving Seb and getting him killed. Pressing a hand to the laminated glass, I pour everything I have into my words. “Save him.”
There’s a moment of hesitation for both of us. Then he presses his hand to mine. He leaps off the car and tears through them. I notice blood and fur drizzling across the pavement. With Kat and the raven’s aid, Wolf-Seb shakes them off. They scatter, like birds stirred in the bushes. It’s now a ratio of three to five, and al
l of them are missing chunks of skin.
Raven glances at me, and then leaps into the air, flying into the night.
“Thank you,” I mouth, a beat too late.
A maniacal laugh slices through the air. Ash is watching, somewhere. And I hope he enjoyed the show. Because the next time I meet him, I’ll give him a piece of my mind and kick him where it hurts.
Wolf-Seb pads over, tufts of fur missing, and stares in at me, eyes concerned and darting over me. His muzzle is smeared with blood. I want to reach out and touch him, run my fingers through his fur like I did weeks ago in my front yard, tell him I’m okay, everything will be okay. But I can’t.
He pivots and charges towards the trees. Puma-Kat sprints after him. I imagine him yelling, “Wait up!” as I watch them meld into the forest.
I pray that we make it through; I pray that they’re safe.
The sun stings my eyes, burning my face. I roll over. Then memories of the previous night shatter my sleepy brain.
How did I get home? Did I drive?
Seb’s car! It’s still in the driveway. I slither out of bed and pad over to the window. A slip of yellowing paper is taped to the pane.
He’s okay.
— Kat.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Seb’s alive. I feel my tense muscles relax. He’s alive—I’m alive. I just want to forget last night, but I know it will never leave me. Our perfect date, tainted by disaster. I pinch my eyes shut and try to hold onto the sensation of his hand in mine, lips skimming across mine. I won’t let them be erased. Before I leave the window, I stretch to see the driveway. The car’s gone. Mysterious.
I take one final look at Eve’s eulogy—my words leaving a scorching trail through my heart—and set it on top of my handbag.
In the kitchen, I scrounge for a piece of bread and pop it in the toaster. As I wait, I make some coffee.
“Hey, kid.” Dad shuffles into the kitchen. “You were pretty rattled last night when you got home.” He sits at the table. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
I bet he’s wondering whether it’s got something to do with the funeral today. The toast jumps up, making me twitch. “We were, um, ambushed.” I slap on butter. “After the movie.” I decide against adding jam, not sure I can stomach much more.
“Oh. Is Seb all right?”
I hesitate telling him about the raven boy. He saved my boyfriend—does that make him good? “Yeah. I called Kat to help.”
“Must’ve been horrifying.”
You can say that.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I don’t know. It was scary, and one of them hurt my wrist.”
Holding out a hand for my arm, he says, “Let me see.”
I sigh, but do as he asks. “You should learn how to turn Doctor Spencer off. I’m not one of your patients.”
After a quick look at the hand-shaped bruise, he lets go of my arm. “The bruise is already turning green; it should go away soon.”
I tear off a bite of toast with my teeth and chew, wondering if Seb really is okay.
Interrupting my thoughts, Dad says, “Word on the street is, Ash is the new alpha.”
I stifle a giggle as I sit across from him. Since when does Dad say things like Word on the street? “Yep. And there’re two new ones.”
This seizes his interest. “Oh? Can you tell me anything about them?”
I bite my tongue. Shouldn’t have said that. I take a moment to chew another mouthful. “One saved Seb.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“I don’t know anything about the other one.”
He nods, pensive. “Wow. I’ll have to see what I can find out about them.”
I want to say, Don’t hurt the raven boy! However, I don’t know, myself, if we can fully trust him. He is, after all, hanging out with the enemy.
“Have you heard from him?”
I pause midchew. “From who?”
“Seb.”
I shake my head. “But Kat left me a note this morning.”
Dad smiles. “I’d love to meet this ‘Kat’. He sounds like a character, from what you and Seb tell me.”
I nod. “He’s like a playful puppy—or kitten, rather.”
Lizzy turns and hisses at me.
“I don’t think she likes you comparing her to those abominations,” he says.
“Dad.”
“Seb and Kat being the exception.”
“Yes, well, you’re just gonna have to get used to it,” I say to her.
She prances out of the room, tail down.
Dad’s smile is forced, glum. “It’s been a long time since there were other people in this home.”
The house grows quiet. I get up and rinse my plate, stow it in the dish rack. Will Seb be back in time? I don’t know if I can survive the day without him. And how will I explain to his mother why he didn’t come with me to meet her?
But at 9:15, my hopes come true.
Like old times, Seb appears at my bedroom window. He’s trying to make me smile. And I do, but tears quickly follow. My feet scrape across the floorboards, towards him. I open the window—Dad had taken the nails out last week.
“Would your dad mind if I came in?”
I try to recall what I said when he asked me that before. “What he doesn’t know…”
He climbs in. “Well, he does know. I rang and told him I’ll be climbing through your window.” He drags me into a tight embrace.
“Sneaky.” I constrict my arms around his waist.
“How’re you doin’?” His gaze drops to my lips.
“Better than I thought.” I bury my face in his black, button-down shirt. “But it might be a different story when I see everyone else upset.” Breathing in his scent, I let the comforting, earthy aroma wash over me as he rubs gentle circles into my back. “Are you okay?” I feel his chest shake with laughter.
He releases me and extends his arms, displaying his already-silver scars. “Yes, I’m fine, Cass.”
Dad calls up the stairs, “Are you dressed?”
I stare down at my polka dot pajamas. “Yes.”
“Liar,” Seb mouths, his lips curling upwards.
“Miley will be here soon,” Dad says.
“I’m coming!” I slink over to my closet, pulling out my black dress. “Why are funerals so drab?”
“Um. ’Cuz someone died?”
“I get that, but I’ve always thought we should be celebrating their life, not mourning the loss. Eve would want a massive party.”
“And you? What would you want?” His arms curl around me again.
“I guess immortality is too much to ask for.” I think for a moment. “A suitcase full of books to read on the journey to wherever I’m going?” Heaven, hell—what’s the difference anymore?
He chuckles and kisses my forehead.
I melt into him. I can never get enough of this. I used to be the girl who didn’t need a big, strong man to love her. But that Cassie was wrong. “I’ll need you to help me with the zipper,” I say as I tug the curtains closed.
He spins away.
I peel off my pajamas. Chucking the hanger onto my bed, I slip into the dress. “Okay.”
He turns back, his eyes assessing me. “You look good. Too bad it’s under these circumstances.”
“Thanks.” I pivot on the ball of my foot, my back facing him, and gather my hair out of his way.
His fingers pinch the sides of the zipper together as he jerks up the tab. Then they brush along my shoulders, lingering on the back of my neck. My skin tingles as he presses his lips there.
“You’re ready.”
“My hair.” I wheeze a sigh. “Can you braid it?” I look at him through the mirror on my dresser and he nods.
Seb
It seems the whole town has showed up for Eve. When Cassie sees this, her eyes widen and a sob catches in her throat. I reach for her hand. Xavier takes Miley’s. Cass links her arm with Whitney’s and catches my eye.
>
She doesn’t have to worry; I’m not jealous. I’m touched. Her compassion is boundless, and not just today.
As we enter the church, two ladies hover by the door with serving trays. On one, mini bagels with what looks like strawberry jam. The other, chocolate chip cookies.
Cass whispers in my ear, “They were Eve’s favorites.” She takes a cookie and tucks it into her purse for later.
We find a pew with enough space for all five of us, and Kat squeezes in beside me.
“Why’re you here?” I say to him. “You didn’t even know the girl.”
He shrugs. “I like to support my friends.”
“Fair enough.”
Chatter settles down as the priest takes his place. I tuck my girlfriend under my arm, and she imprisons Whitney’s fingers in her hand. I see Miley on his other side do the same.
The priest reads from the scriptures, “‘I am the resurrection and life,’ saith the Lord; ‘he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.’” He goes on to read Psalm 23, and then looks up at the mourning crowd. “Too soon, Evelyn Anne was taken from us,” the priest says. “Too soon, her family lost an angel. Known as Eve to everyone, and Evie to her best girlfriends, Miley and Cassandra—”
A shiver rolls through Cass at the mention of her name. She always hates it when people call her Cassandra.
“—she was the incomparable daughter of Hazel and Bruce, the loving sister of Riley, and an incredible friend to all.”
Cass’ hand balls on her thigh, trying hard to keep a brave face. I pry her fingers open and wrap them around my hand. Even if she squeezes so hard that she breaks my bones, they’ll be healed in a matter of days. Hers, not so much.
I watch her as the priest talks about Eve’s stint as a fashion model before working at Rocky Roads, her straight As in her classes, and her patience with her brother Riley, who battles with Asperger’s. As each word sinks in, Cass loses a bit of her calm façade, until her name is called.
“Cassandra Spencer,” the priest says, “has written a passage on behalf of herself, Miley Sparks, Marcus Wyatt, Whitney Jarvis, and Victoria Barnett.”
Cass trembles, and then looks at me. “Come with me?”
I nod and guide her towards the front.
She slides a creased sheet of paper from her purse, spreads it out on the lectern, and gazes at people before her. She clears her throat, tries to make sense of the words in front of her. “Evie was the best friend a girl could ever have.” She swipes away a tear. “She was always kind, gracious. Always happy to hang out, whether it was at home or at the cinemas.” Her fingers dig into the wooden stand. She stares at the paper. Then she sucks in a deep breath and, looking at Eve’s parents, she deviates from what was prepared. “I hate the term was. It implies that something is in the past, that it doesn’t exist anymore.” She pauses. “Well, I can’t think of Eve that way. She may be gone, but she still exists—in me, in all of us.” She detaches a hand from the lectern and presses it to her heart. “She exists. In our thoughts. In our hearts.” A sob escapes her throat. “In our memories. We keep her alive.” She clamps her eyes shut, tears now pouring out. “Hazel, Bruce, Riley.” She blinks to clear her vision. “On behalf of Miley, Whitney, Xavier, Tori, Marcus, and myself, we’d like to thank you. For always being so welcoming. And for raising such a beautiful daughter.” She bunches up the eulogy, “Thank you,” and collapses into my waiting arms.