Silver Moon

REBECCA ROGERS

Copyright © 2011 Rebecca A. Rogers

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 9780615477442

DEDICATION

To those who taught me to never give up. You know who you are.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wouldn’t have done this without the support of my friends, family and co-workers. You guys believed in me when the world didn’t. For that I am eternally grateful.

“All of us are God's creatures…just some are more creature than others.”

– Unknown

Chapter One

The bright blue motel gets smaller through the back window of the car as we drive away. I sleep on and off for a few more hours, which works out perfectly, because it’s awkward trying to chat with my parents. What would I say? Oh, thank you Mom and Dad for sending me away indefinitely.

Um, no.

They’re adamant about this, about sending me away. All I did was trespass on private property to hang out with a few friends. It’s not like I killed someone. Now I’m subjected to spending the rest of senior year with my aunt and uncle in Connecticut.

I think about Sean and Layla, my friends back home, and about how much I’m going to miss Charleston. My days were spent with them—skipping school, playing pool at Mickie J’s until long after the sun went down, and pretty much staying in trouble. It didn’t matter where we went, trouble followed. I still remember the last conversation I had with Sean before I left home.

“Hey, you. What’s this about your parents sending you off?” he asked.

“How’d you—”

“Layla told me.”

“Yeah, Connecticut. Can you believe that?” I huffed. Boxes upon boxes were stacked together. I could barely squeeze by them to sit down on my bed.

“It’s all good,” he joked, then fell silent. “Candra, you won’t forget us, will you? No matter what we’ll always be here for you. So, if you run away and somehow make it back down here, then you can come over and hang.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, Sean. That means a lot.”

“You will come back, won’t you?”

“I hope so. I don’t think I’ll last a year up there.”

“Just put on your happy face. The sooner they realize you are well-behaved, the sooner you come back.”

“I’ll do my best. No guarantees, though.”

“Someone’s coming.” Sean lowered his voice to a whisper. “I have to go. Let us know as soon as you get up there.”

“Bye, Sean.” My words came out strained, lifeless.

“See ya, Candra.”

Dad eases the car into a gas station on the outskirts of West Hartford. He steps out to pump while Mom mentions running inside. She asks if I want anything to snack on, but I’d probably puke it back up. My nerves are getting the best of me. I give her a simple “no”.

“How much longer?” I ask when she slides back in the passenger seat.

“Not too long, sweetie. We should be there within thirty minutes.”

We take Exit 40, which veers off I-84 to Ridgewood Drive. The streets are lined with Colonials and Victorians, of all different shapes and sizes.

Dad makes a few more turns before pulling into a driveway.

“This is it,” Mom says.

My stomach does a somersault.

The house is a white Colonial, and rests off the main road—like, really far off the main road. Vines snake around the front, hugging the house. It does sit on the edge of the forest, I remind myself. The front lawn is immaculate and clean cut. Rows of hedges are lined under the front window. Large trees line the driveway.

Randy and Beth come down the front steps to greet us.

“It’s so good to see everyone, and nice to see my niece again,” Randy says. His short, dark brown hair compliments his lean build and tall stature. Beth is short, like me, and has chestnut hair that falls in loose waves around her shoulders.

I’m still pessimistic about the situation.

“Come inside,” Beth says. “Dinner’s on the stove, but I’ll let you all get situated before we eat.” She curls her arm around me, smiles, and leads us inside. I catch a whiff of her perfume, which smells like fresh flowers—soft, sweet.

A white, wooden staircase sits off to the right as we enter the house. Pictures hang on the wall leading up to the second floor.

“Is my bedroom up there?” I ask.

“Silly me!” Beth says, smiling. “Of course it is. I bet you’re exhausted!”

“She shouldn’t be. She slept most of the way,” Dad says.

Nobody asked you.

Beth doesn’t acknowledge what he says. Instead, she grabs my hand and leads me to the second floor, motioning toward my room.

“Here we are,” Beth says, gauging my reaction as we enter the room. “We didn’t know how you’d want to decorate it, so the room is kind of bland at the moment. We’ll go shopping soon and get you whatever you like.”

“It’s nice,” I say. The walls are painted creamy beige and the bed, positioned against the far wall, has a cherry-finish. A matching dresser sits against the wall to the right of the door, and a mirror is propped against the closet entrance, next to the dresser.

Everyone stares at me. I walk over to the one and only window. The view is on the right side of the house, facing the woods.

Great. All I get is a view of a bunch of trees.

“Let’s leave her,” Beth whispers to the others, like I’m deaf or something.

I stay at the window, completely fixated on the woods. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing special. I just can’t stop staring.

As crazy as it seems, for a split second my mind tells me I belong here.

Weird.

Mom and Dad bring up my duffel bag and boxes. Dad quickly leaves the room. When I turn to look out the window again, two eyes stare back at me from just inside the tree line. I gasp loudly. Eyes like beams from a flashlight. No animal would watch me like that.

“What is it, Candra?” Mom asks.

I can’t move. “There—there was—a—someone.”

Mom laughs. “You’re tired, sweetie. Why don’t you come downstairs and get some food in your system? Beth’s a really good cook.”

I watch the eyes gradually disappear.

“I’m n-not h-hungry,” I stammer, turning around to face her, nearly staggering backward.

Mom’s shoulders drop. “Get some rest, okay?” She reaches up and pushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

I pull away before she has a chance to do a mother-daughter thing. I don’t feel like listening to how much she’ll miss me, or how she and Dad don’t want this to happen.

Blah. Blah. Blah. I don’t need a damn therapist.

She gets the hint, because she barely nods and leaves the room without saying a word.

I collapse on my new bed. I’m not tired at all—just don’t feel like sitting through boring conversations at dinner.

School starts for me on Monday. I don’t want to think about what that’ll be like or how other students will react to the new kid in town. I’ll think about it later; I have too much on my mind already—like those crazy eyes outside my window. What kind of animal has eyes like that?

I sit up and the room sways. Maybe Mom’s right. Maybe I should eat something. Carefully, I stand and walk toward the door. The edges of my vision smudge and turn black.

Oh, God, I think.

That’s the last thing I remember.

~*~

I wake to someone plastering a cold, wet washcloth across my forehead. Lips move, but I can’t hear or make out the words, let alone see who it is.

I try rolling my head around, but it feels like dead weight and hardly budges.

Finally, sound fills my ears, and vision returns to my eyes. Mom’s the one at my head, and everyone else stands around me.

“What happened?” I groan, rubbing my eyes.

“We heard a loud crash and came up here. You were passed out on the floor. I told you to eat dinner, didn’t I?” Mom says.

I nod my head slowly, careful not to become dizzier than I already am.

Mom stands and walks toward the door. “Now come downstairs, and I’ll fix you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” I tell her. Jeez, how many times do I need to repeat myself?

Her eyebrows fold together. “Now is not the time to be stubborn, Candra.”

“Really, I’m not. I just want to unpack and go to bed.” I try waving her off, but it doesn’t do me any good.

“I’ll bring you something,” Mom insists.

I roll my eyes and grumble, “Fine.”

Dad helps me up, while Mom rushes downstairs and grabs food. I still feel woozy and disoriented. I’ve never passed out before, and I hope I never will again.

When Mom returns with a piping hot bowl of beef stew and crackers, I take my time spooning the mixture into my mouth. She sits at the end of the bed, watching me. Everyone else has left the room.

I frown. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m going to miss you,” she says.

My stomach flips, but I can’t break down; it’s not on my agenda. So, I roll my eyes and make circles with my spoon in the stew. “Okay,” I respond.

“Your father will miss you too.”

Yeah, right, because the whole purpose of me being here has to do with you missing me, loving me, and looking out for me. I don’t say it aloud, though.

“Hmm…that’s nice.”

“We know this is really hard for you, honey, but it’ll all work out in the end.” She pats my foot.

I twist my legs away from her. “Nothing you say will make me forgive you two. You could’ve just grounded me and saved yourselves some money. I guess it’s easier to ship me off and let someone else take care of me rather than having to worry about it, right?”

Mom bites her lip, and tears threaten to spill, but she holds them back. “Get some rest, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Whatever.”

I hand her my tray and she gingerly accepts it and leaves the room. I slam the door behind her, pounding one fist, then another against the frame. I don’t want to unpack. I don’t want to do anything. Sleep is the only thing to do. It’s my only escape from this hell I’m living in. So, I collapse on my bed. My eyelids become heavy, and, soon, I plummet into darkness.

~*~

By the time I wake the next morning and stroll downstairs, everyone’s eaten breakfast and my parents’ luggage is waiting by the front door.

“What’s all this?” I ask.

Mom jumps up from her chair in the dining room. “Your father and I decided to leave a day early. We have some stuff to take care of back home.”

“Right,” I huff.

Mom ignores me and picks up a suitcase. She and Dad make their way out to the Honda. She looks like she’s going to burst into tears at any second. After loading their luggage into the trunk, she walks over and gives me a hug.

I have to be strong. I won’t break down.

Especially after all they’ve put me through this past week.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Mom says. “I know this is hard for you, adjusting to a new town and everything, but I think it’ll work out for the best. Listen to Randy and Beth. Help them with whatever they need. Please stay in touch. Let us know what’s going on.”

“Why? It’s not like you won’t talk to Beth, anyway.” I look down at my Chucks, wishing I can take back the comment. I feel bad for treating them like shit. I mean, they are almost being too nice to me.

My throat tightens and throbs, making it that much harder to hold back tears, or to say anything at all. I don’t want to look at Mom for fear of breaking down.

Dad drapes his arm around Mom’s shoulders, and pulls her to his chest. He gives her a comforting hug.

“We’ll miss you, kiddo. Take care, all right?” he says. He’s never been the mushy type. If he can avoid goodbyes altogether, he will.

I don’t look at him, either. Instead, I retort by saying, “Yeah.”

Mom reaches into her front jean pocket and pulls out a white envelope. “This is for you. Don’t open it until we leave.”

I take the envelope from her and eye it. What the hell could she possibly have to say to me in a note?

Mom and Dad turn to hug Randy and Beth, and then get in the Honda. Dad starts the engine, while Mom rolls the window down. She sticks her hand out the window and waves, as they speed down the driveway.

I wave, which looks clumsy, but I know they don’t see it.

So, this is it. A new beginning.

“Candra?” Beth gently asks. She sounds like she’s checking to see if I’m still breathing.

I don’t reply. I turn on my heels and dart through the front door. Upstairs, I slam the door behind me. I don’t want to talk to her or Randy. I don’t want to think about my parents leaving me with people I barely know. I don’t want to think about the challenges I’ll face come Monday.

My hand tightly grips the envelope Mom gave me. I rip it open to see the contents—a folded letter and a silver heart locket. I open the letter and begin to read.

Candra,

I know you don’t understand why we did this, but you will soon. This was the hardest decision we’ve ever made. I’m leaving this silver locket in your possession now. It was my mother’s. Please take good care of it. Inside the locket are pictures of your father and me, so we will always be close to your heart.

Please call me as soon as you can.

Love always,

Mom

One tear slides down my cheek, followed by another. Once they begin to flow, they won’t stop. Before I know it, I’m doubled over—crying so hard I’m sure the whole neighborhood can hear me.

All of the emotions from the past few days catch up to me. I pull my legs to my face and wrap my arms around them. The tops of my jeans are damp and smudged with my black mascara. The words stay strong replay over and over in my mind, but I can’t be strong anymore.

I chuck the locket across the room, where it hits the wall with a clank and falls to the floor.

I cry until there isn’t a drop of water left in my eyes, and my throat aches from my shrill sobs.

Chapter Two

High school. The worst part of my life. Some say it’s the best, but I wonder what planet they’re from. If I can get through the long days without any morons making fun of the new kid, then I suppose it might be a tolerable.

Beth gives me simple directions on how to get to school by foot. I’m glad she doesn’t mention my disgusting display of emotions from the previous night, because it won’t happen again. Last night I swore to myself that I’d make this work, even if it takes every ounce of strength to get myself out of bed and to school every day. I just need to get through this year, and then my exile will be over. I’ll go home.

I stand in front of the high school, watching students mass through the main doors. Everything in me says turn around and run—run fast and far. But I know change is what I’m here for.

The school reminds me of a penitentiary with its all-brick façade. Walls seem to disappear into their flat structure. Four areas of the building form bulky squares, rising above roof level. The only area that has any form to it is a large, circular building to my right.

Oh, God. This really is a reformatory.

The sign on the front lawn is brick, with a white board set in the center. Up top, it reads: CONARD HIGH SCHOOL. Below the name, plastic letters say: Welcome Students! But the first “t” in “students” looks more like an “l”. Idiots don’t know how to spell. Of course I’d get stuck here.

My personal prison sits back from the principle road and sidewalk. Trees with gnarled trunks and long limbs stand authoritatively along the way to the main entrance. Green grass splays across the lot, dotted with patches of yellow and brown. Birds whistle to each other through the trees.

I force my legs to move.

Breathe, I tell myself, counting my steps.

There are only a few students left outside, scurrying in before the first bell rings. I need to find the office. Walking toward the two main doors, I hang out for a minute, still uneasy about this whole going-to-school thing. Back in Charleston, I skipped classes.

I take a deep breath and make my feet move. Some kid bumps into me, then turns around.

“Watch where you’re going,” I grumble.

His eyebrows rise. “Yeah, uh, sorry.”

For a split second, I feel like a complete bitch.

“Where’s the office?” I ask.

He points toward the front doors and says, “In there. On the right.” Then he jogs inside.

Students crowd around the front counter; one guy is trying to get a couple of classes changed, another looks to be faking some sort of illness, and I’m not sure what the others are there for. I push through all of them. The old woman behind the counter seems startled by my approach.

“Can I help you, dear?” she asks. Her black-rimmed glasses slide down her nose every three seconds, and she forces them back up to the bridge. They magnify her eyes so much she looks like a bug.

“I’m new and need to get a list of my classes.”

“Name?”

“Candra Lowell.”

She turns and walks to a back room, mumbling my name the whole way. I swear it takes her ten minutes to print the list off of a computer that’s older than I am.

“Here you go, hon,” she says, handing me a list. “Do you need help finding your classes?” She reminds me of a white-haired robot, with her routine gestures and monotone voice.

“Nope. I’ve got it,” I say, walking out the door, but she’s already helping someone else.

Each classroom number is beside the teacher’s name on the list. The hard part: figuring out which hallway to take. There are so many. I walk down one hallway and I swear three more hallways branch from it. The stench of old peanut butter wafts into my nostrils. I don’t like the smell of older schools.

The tardy bell rings. A couple of students in the hallway obviously don’t care if they’re late; they’re too busy making out. One of the teachers storms around the corner and begins yelling at them. He then turns and looks at me.

“You! Get to class!” I hear him mumble something along the lines of, “What is wrong with these kids?” as he stalks down another hallway, checking for more tardy students.

I really shouldn’t ask for help, because I’m too stubborn, but my conscience gets the best of me.

“I’m new and don’t know where to go. Maybe you could help me?” I call behind him.

He stops in the middle of the hallway, like he has second thoughts about helping me, but comes back and snatches the piece of paper out of my hand.

“Walk down this hallway,”—he says, pointing toward the northern hallway—“and take a right. You should be able to find it from there.” He stuffs the list back in my hand.

If he had been at my old high school, I would’ve told him where to go.

My first class is Chemistry with Mr. Martin. He actually has the audacity to call on me for the answer to a question.

Luckily, I know the answer.

The rest of the students in the classroom watch me. I feel like I can’t escape their judging eyes.

After the bell makes its fast-paced clanging noise signaling the end of this class, everyone’s out of their seats and in the hallway before I can get my book in my bag. I check my class list as I walk out the door—English is next. English is always one of my best subjects. At least it’s better than learning elements from the periodic table.

I notice a locker combination scribbled on the back of the piece of paper: 28-10-42-5. My new locker number is 213. I decide to test it out. Of course, that requires finding it first. I look at the numbers on the lockers at the edge of the hallways to see what they begin with. It doesn’t take long for me to find the right hallway…and receive curious glances from fellow students.

Everyone knows when fresh meat has arrived.

The door is open when I get to English. I walk in and notice the teacher isn’t there. One-by-one, the students file to their desks, staring at me as they sit down. I fidget, flipping my notepad open and pretending I’m reading something. In reality, I draw a picture of the golden eyes in the woods outside of Randy and Beth’s house.

Finally, Mr. Everett walks into the classroom, coffee in hand.

“All of you can pass your homework from last night to the—” He freezes, realizing I’m standing beside his desk, like a lost puppy. I hand him my slip of paper.

He glances at the slip and says, “Everyone, this is Candra Lowell. Where are you coming to us from, Candra?” His features are much more mature than Mr. Martin’s. With his stylish good looks and clean cut appearance, I can already guess that he’s the teacher that girls—maybe even a few guys—might have a crush on.

“Charleston,” I reply.

“Charleston, huh? You’re a long way from home. What brings you here?” He bites his lip. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”

Random giggles erupt across the classroom, more than likely from his admirers.

“You’re right. It’s not. But, so I won’t have to answer the same question a hundred times today, I’ll tell you. I live with my aunt and uncle now because my parents couldn’t handle me getting into trouble.”

Everyone might as well know the truth. They’ll all either make up incorrect assumptions and wild stories, or they’ll know what really happened. The sooner I can tell everyone why I’m here, the sooner I won’t have to repeat myself.

But the whispers get me. I can handle name-calling, or bullies, but not whispers.

“Okay, why don’t you take a seat in the desk by Benjamin Conway?” He nods toward the back of the room.

I give him a confused look while searching for an empty desk, not having the slightest idea who Benjamin is. Mr. Everett notices and points him out for me.

Benjamin is stunning, if a guy can even be that. His hair is the color of a dark, moonless night, and his skin has been kissed by the sun. The fact that he wears a button up, black shirt—rolled to his elbows—doesn’t help me any; it only makes him that much more attractive.

I hesitate before willing my legs to move in his direction.

If he heard what Mr. Everett said, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at me until I’m almost at my desk. When our eyes meet, something strange happens. My stomach does a flip and every nerve ending burns, like I’m swallowed in a sea of flames.

His eyes bulge, almost poking out of his head. And his eyebrows meet his hairline.

He’s as shocked as me.

Nobody else matters in the room. It’s just us.

My short daydream is sucked back into reality when I trip beside my desk and land face-first on the ground. I manage to wheeze out an, “Ow!” The room erupts into another fit of laughter. I, however, lay face down, wanting to cry.

“Well, Ms. Lowell, if you’re done tripping on your shoelaces, I can begin my lesson,” Mr. Everett jokes.

Like that helps. The class roars in hysterics. I’m a walking circus today.

“Errr,” I stammer. My voice has a nervous edge. “I’m done.”

My cheeks burn. Hell, my whole face burns. Although I can’t see it, I’m pretty sure it’s as red as a fire hydrant.

In my peripheral vision, I notice Ben staring at me. He doesn’t laugh like the other kids, just stares, which makes me more uncomfortable. Stray pieces of hair fall across my face, shielding me from his gaze. I purposely shake them so they cover my inflamed cheeks.

Before I know it, class is over. I don’t even know what the teacher talked about. I’m too embarrassed about my tripping incident to concentrate. I stop by my locker to drop off my books before heading to lunch. Students walk by and murmur. They’re talking about me. I just know it. Another kid walks by and bursts out laughing.

God, I hate high school.

The cafeteria is large and packed full of at least twenty rectangular tables with blue stools attached. There’s a deck outside where students can sit—something we don’t have back home. The aroma in the air bites at my nose, bidding me to eat. Although my stomach gnaws at my backbone, the food doesn’t look appetizing. Mushy greens, watery potatoes, burnt chicken fingers, and two-day old pizza aren’t my idea of a nice lunch. I cut in line to buy chocolate milk and find an empty table.

Half the lunchroom glares at me. Do I really look that solitary? I feel that way.

I’ve made it this far, just two more classes before I’m out of here.

With a few more snickers and looks, I want more than anything to be invisible. I fiddle with my chocolate milk container before downing the rest. Standing to throw it away, I feel the heat crawl up the back of my neck and, finally, into my cheeks. It’s like all of the glares so far have accumulated and hit me at once.

Then I think about Benjamin, and feel my face grow hotter. Everything from his gaze to the clothes he wore in class flashes through my head. What’s with him? There’s something…different. I can’t explain why I felt the sudden stab of uneasiness the closer I got to him, but it was definitely there.

The bell rings, and I make my way through the ocean of students to my third class of the day, Algebra. It’s on the opposite side of the building from my other two classes.

They should really have a map for this place.

I begin to wonder if they stuck me in these stupid classes because of my grades back home. This is torture. Not the kind of torture from the Medieval Period, but the kind where they try to eat away at your soul…slowly, mentally.

Fortunately, I find my way to Mrs. Raulston’s classroom without a hitch. She and I trade—her book for my class list. She instructs everyone to turn to chapter seven as she flips the light switch and begins running the projector. The discussion is about ellipses, parabolas, and hyperbolas.

Boring.

I’m already exhausted, and it’s not even the end of the day yet. If I can lay my head down for five minutes…

Something strikes my desk. I almost crash onto the floor.

“Candra Lowell!” Mrs. Raulston bellows, like a crazy old woman with a high-pitched voice, taking the “well” in “Lowell” to a whole new octave. “I will have you know that I do not tolerate anyone sleeping in my classroom.”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep. Honestly.”

“Do not let it happen again. This will be your only warning,” she says, sounding more and more like she belongs in a dramatic play of some sort. Her nose is stuck so far up in the air that it should be against the law. And what’s with her goggles making her bug-eyed?

I don’t like her. She’s like an alien being from another planet and I want to run over her with my non-existent car. My lips curve into a wry smile at the thought.

My extraterrestrial teacher keeps a hard eye on me the rest of the class period. I’m relieved to finally be out of there when the bell rings. How many more weeks of her?

My last class is Geography. It’s not hard at all to look at maps and locate countries, states, and capitals. By far, this will be my easiest class, and an easy way to wind down the day.

Mr. Williams seems like a very nice man. Nothing immediately jumps out at me as far as his disposition is concerned. His features are average—not too tall, cute, but not overly handsome, and he looks like he could afford to eat a few more meals. He never raises his voice, even as students are filing noisily into their seats.

I’m busy analyzing my new teacher’s personality traits when I hear a soft pssst. I glance to my right. A boy is trying to get my attention.

“Hey,” he says.

I look up to make sure Mr. Williams isn’t looking in our direction.

“Hey.” I smile.

“You must be Candra,” he whispers, leaning across the aisle that separates us.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

“I’m Blake.”

“Nice to meet you, Blake.”

He’s cute. His height is shorter than most of the guys I’ve seen that day, and his blonde-brown hair wisps over the tops of his ears. But it’s his eyes that catch me off guard. They’re the most brilliant blue I’ve ever seen.

“My girlfriend, Jana, saw you earlier today and said you looked pretty outcast, so I figured I’d say hey.”

“Umm…thanks.” Yeah, like that doesn’t make me feel even more awkward.

“You’ll like her,” he continues. “She’s usually in this class, but she had something to take care of today. She should be here tomorrow.”

“Oh, cool.”

That’s the first attempt anyone has made at talking to me all day. He seems like a nice guy. I notice some of the other students listen to us, but turn their attention back to the front of the classroom once our murmured conversation is over.

Mr. Williams finishes up his lesson, as the students prepare for the final bell to ring.

I’m glad the day is over. I walk with the drove of students out the side doors and into the parking lot. I stop long enough to take a breath.

“Candra! Wait up!” someone yells behind me.

I turn to see Blake jogging in my direction.

“So, how’d you like your first day?” he asks.

“If you subtract the fact that I was late for my first day of school, got called on for an answer in first period, tripped over my own two feet in second period, sat by myself at lunch, fell asleep in third period, only to have my desk smacked with a ruler, then I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

“Nope, sounds like you’ve had a great first day.” He grins.

I slide my hands in my pockets. “You know, you’re the first person who’s talked to me all day.”

His face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

He shrugs. “Better than nothing, I guess. The kids here will warm up to you in no time. You seem like a pretty cool girl.”

“Thanks, Blake.”

“Hey, don’t mention it.” He blushes. “Well, I have to get home. Do you need a ride or something?”

“No, I’ll walk. But thanks.”

“Well, see ya tomorrow then.” He tosses me a wave over his shoulder.

“Okay.”

I watch as he vanishes into the sea of cars leaving the parking lot. He’s not exactly what I’d consider a friend just yet, but it’s a start.

Most of the cars exit the parking lot before I begin walking home. I watch some students lag behind so they can chat with their friends. One girl touches up her lip gloss in the rearview mirror. A couple leans against a car, playing tonsil hockey. A few guys sit on the back of a dilapidated truck, like they’re about to throw a tailgate party.

I laugh while walking through the parking lot. Today’s been totally nerve-wracking, but it didn’t turn out as bad as I expected.

Chapter Three

The next day at school isn’t too bad, either. Jana, Blake’s girlfriend, never shows up. Blake won’t give a reason. He just says she’s “busy,” and talks about her through most of class. I don’t know why, but I’m really anxious to meet her.

The next thing I know, class is over, and I wait on a bench by the curb for the parking lot to clear out, just in case someone accidentally runs over the new girl.

A few leaves blow across the sidewalk on my way home, which makes me think about Mom. She used to tell me how beautiful it is here when the leaves change colors. Soon, I’ll get to experience the beauty myself, since autumn is just around the corner.

I twirl the silver heart locket between my fingers, thinking about how I should call Mom and Dad, but I don’t know if I’m emotionally stable enough for that yet.

When I got home from school the previous day, I picked up the necklace, still lying on the floor. It means a lot to Mom, and there has to be a reason she wants me to have it.

Too busy with my thoughts, I haven’t noticed the footsteps behind me, falling in sync with mine. How long have they been back there? One glance over my shoulder and I realize it’s two guys from school. I’ve seen them in the hallways, but don’t have any classes with them.

“Nice view from back here, sweetheart,” one of the guys says.

Oh, great. They’re those guys.

I don’t respond or acknowledge what he says. I continue walking up the sidewalk and through a subdivision of middle class houses.

“Not going to talk to us? C’mon. We’re nice guys.”

“We’re, like, the welcome party,” the second one says.

“Just wanted to tell you you’re not welcome here.”

Both laugh and I think I hear a slap of hands. I continue to ignore them and quicken my pace.

Suddenly, a hand clutches my arm with frightening strength and whirls me around. Both guys have dark features, reminding me of someone else I know, though I can’t place my finger on who. The one who grabs me has the most sinister eyes I’ve ever seen. Almost as if evil took up residence somewhere behind his pupils. Flat. Cold. Unreadable.

“Too good to talk to us, huh?” he spits.

“Let go of my arm,” I snarl through gritted teeth. If I have to fight these two, there’s no way I’ll win. My only hope is to scream for help and hope someone hears me.

My stomach teeters, like I’m on a boat. I might hurl at any second. I’m scared shitless.

“When I speak to you, you answer me,” he says, getting way too close to my face.

“I said ‘let me go’.” I try pulling my arm out of his grasp. “When I tell you to do something, you listen to me.”

Bad idea, Candra. Really bad idea.

His grip tightens, and I’m about to scream. Something sparks, like electricity, between us and he wails, falling to the ground. The other guy reaches for him, trying to help him up.

He points a finger at me and says, “Mark my words. You’ll regret this.”

“Is there a problem?” a husky voice asks from behind me. I turn to see my hero.

It’s Benjamin.

My mouth falls open. Where’d he come from?

“Fine. Just fine,” the Boy with the Vacant Eyes replies, before I have a chance to open my mouth. He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“I think you need to leave her alone,” Benjamin warns. There’s an edge to his voice, like he’s controlling rage.

The two guys shake their heads and smirk. “Mom and Dad won’t be happy about this one.” They turn and leave the way they came.

Benjamin’s jaw twitches. He stares in their direction, even after they’re long gone.

Finally, I ask, “Mom and Dad? You’re their—”

“Brother? Yes,” he confirms.

I glance in the direction they had gone, but can’t see anything past the six-foot fence surrounding the home we stand beside. “Are they always like this?”

Benjamin nods. “You could say that.”

“Well, uh, thanks for saving my ass, I guess.”

“Let me know if they bother you again.” His eyebrows furrow, and it’s like his eyes put me under some sort of spell.

I lose my senses. My head goes numb. Everything fades around us.

I shake my head to lift the curse. “I hope you don’t get into any trouble. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around.”

Like nothing just happened, he fades around the corner and out of sight. Standing in place for a couple of minutes makes me look as dumb as I feel. He’s not coming back. There’s no point in me waiting for him. I’ll have to wait until I see him again.

My own, personal hero, I think. Not that I need one, but there’s something about him that I find comforting.

When I get home—my new home, anyway—Beth’s making dinner. She pokes her head around the corner as soon as I walk through the door.

“It’s just me,” I say.

“I wanted to be sure,” she calls from the kitchen. “How was school?”

“It was…different.” I don’t want to bring up the Conway brothers, or how they confronted me. Like I need more problems in my life…

I snatch a roll from the tray Beth pulls out of the oven. The bread is crispy and burns the tips of my fingers. I quickly take a bite, burning the roof of my mouth. The pain is fleeting—like I imagined it or something.

Weird, I think.

“So,” Beth begins, mixing some sort of food together in a big dish, “have you made new friends yet?”

“Um, I met this guy in one of my classes. He seems pretty cool.” I take another bite of the roll; it doesn’t burn my hand or my mouth this time. Totally weird.

“Oh, yeah? What’s his name?”

“Blake.”

“I bet he’s that Thomas boy. They’re a good clan.”

“Clan? Um, whatever.” My head shakes in response to her odd choice of words. “I’m going upstairs to do homework.”

Beth waves me off.

Homework? Yeah, right. Since when do I do that? Even if I wanted to put a pencil to paper, I couldn’t. My mind is frenzied with thoughts of Benjamin and his brothers. I’ve met a few bullies in my day, but this is at the top of the list. They’re full of pure hatred for me, and I have no idea why. I’ve only been here for how long? A few days? Not long enough to irritate someone, let alone make them hate me. And what’s with their eyes burning black?

The only thing I think about is what’s going to happen to me tomorrow and the day after that. I don’t want to deal with them every day. Just my luck, though, right? I get away from trouble and trouble finds me yet again.

I wonder what Sean and Layla are doing this very second. Are they still grounded? Last time I checked, neither was allowed to pick up a phone or get online. I have no way of communicating with them.

Some time passes before Beth calls me downstairs. She says dinner’s ready. I take my sweet time. My stomach argues with me, since the only food I’ve had all day is the roll in the kitchen.

Randy’s not home from work yet. Apparently, he works the graveyard shift most nights. Something having to do with him being a manager at the bank. I thought only the dead stayed up that late. So, it’s just Beth and I.

“I heard from your mom today,” Beth says, taking a stab at her green beans.

“Really?” There’s no emotion in my voice. At least, that’s what I hope it comes off as.

“She asked about you.”

I play with my mashed potatoes and finally ask, “Did she?” My voice is foreign, even to me. Since when do I care that Mom checked on me?

“They’re worried about you, you know. You should give her a call when you get a chance, catch them up on what’s going on.”

I shrug. “Maybe later.”

Beth doesn’t say anything for the rest of the meal, which is completely awkward. Back home, dinner consisted of Mom picking up fast food on her way home from work, and eating in front of the TV. I suddenly feel sick at the thought of Charleston, and how I can’t go home anytime soon.

I push aside my plate, having lost my appetite, and quickly thank Beth for dinner, heading upstairs to my room—my only place of solace. I attempt to pull out my math book and figure out some equations, but that doesn’t work out so well. My every thought is consumed by what will happen tomorrow at school when I see Benjamin again. My insides toss and turn while I try figuring things out.

The more I think about it, the stranger my thoughts become. Why am I drawn to him? I don’t even know the guy, yet he came to my rescue.

I stand and stretch, walking to my window. I push the curtains aside. There, on the edge of the forest, are those same yellow eyes. I’m utterly absorbed by them. I wonder if my passing out episode is somehow related, but then I think how dumb that sounds.

They hold my gaze for a few seconds—vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

~*~

I attempt to talk to Benjamin the next day. Attempt is the key word. He wants nothing to do with my conversation. Completely ignores me. I wonder if he got in trouble the night before, for helping me.

When class lets out, I confront him in the hall.

“Could you at least pretend like I exist for two seconds?” I ask, trying to catch up with his brisk walk.

He stops, and I almost run into him. “I could, but I’m not going to,” he says, picking up pace again.

Breathless, I question, “You were nice to me yesterday, so what gives?”

We make it to his locker. He tosses a couple of books in the tiny cubbyhole, then pauses. “Listen, Candra, there are things you don’t understand, things you can’t possibly fathom right now. It’s obvious nothing has been explained to you, and it’s not my place to say anything.”

I almost laugh, but he’s so serious. “What are you talking about?”

“Exactly. I’ll see ya around,” he says, leaving me to collect my thoughts alone.

So I won’t look stupid, I rush to my next class. I feel the never-ending cycle of eyes bear down on me as I pass through the hallways. Never gets old.

New kid.

New meat.

Same as any other school. I hope someone else joins my ranks soon. I won’t feel isolated. I so hate being the shiny new toy all the kids want to play with.

The day passes by. All I want to do is sleep.

I’m the first one to take a seat in Geography. Blake enters the room soon after, followed by a short, dark-haired girl with freckles dusting the top of her nose and cheeks. I presume she’s Jana.

“Hi, I’m Jana.” She waves shyly, confirming my genius mind. “You must be Candra.” She and Blake take their seats in the row beside mine.

I bite my lip to keep from giggling. “I am.”

Jana’s not how I pictured her. She bounces when she walks. Too peppy, almost.

“I like your hair. Brown suits your eyes. They look almost pea green, you know,” she says. I squirm in my seat, not one for compliments.

“Um, thanks.”

“So, where are you from again?” she asks.

“Charleston.”

“That’s pretty far from here. Do you miss it?” She watches me intently.

The twinge in my stomach tells me I miss it too much. “Yeah, I do.”

“Did you parents move here too?”

Blake nudges her arm and gives her the keep-your-mouth-shut look.

“It’s okay,” I say, interrupting their evil glares at each other. “No, my parents stayed in Charleston. I live with my aunt and uncle.”

“Really? How come?” she asks.

“Jana! Stop,” Blake scorns.

“A bit of trouble, I guess. They couldn’t handle me anymore.” I stare at the cream-colored linoleum tiles—and Jana and Blake’s black backpacks resting against their desks.

“Well, I’m sure everything will work out,” Jana says, patting my arm.

I sneer and say, “Yeah, right. I already know a couple of guys who hate me.”

Jana and Blake’s faces scrunch, and they give me confused stares.

“Like who?” Blake asks.

“I-I can’t remember their names, only that they’re related to Benjamin somehow,” I stammer.

“Benjamin Conway. His brothers are Cameron and Ethan. They would hate you.” Jana practically growls the words.

My cheeks burn. “But why? I haven’t done anything to them.”

“You don’t have to,” Jana replies. “They hate you for who you are.”

“What?” I shake my head. “That’s not possible.” How is it that I just met these two, yet they seem to know about the Conways? Sure, it is likely word could’ve spread quickly about my run-in yesterday, but not that fast.

“Oh, it is. You just don’t know it yet.” She turns around and faces the front of the class.

Chapter Four

Benjamin skips school on Friday. I search for him everywhere but can’t find him. It’s strange sitting in class with an empty desk beside me. Subconsciously, I feel like something is missing, and I know physically it’s his presence. But there’s something else—something deep and hidden inside me that flutters each time our eyes meet. I can’t deny that.

Why should I care whether he’s in class or not? Maybe part of me misses skipping. And today, I wish I’d skipped. Each class drags by slower and slower. My mind is in a complete fog the rest of the day. Teachers drone on with worthless garble, while I practically fall asleep at my desk.

I can barely place one foot in front of the other on my way home. This isn’t like me. Even though I’m tiny, I’m pretty sure I could stand up to hurricane-force winds…or so I convince myself.

No cars are in the driveway. All I can focus on is getting to the front door—getting there and inside to my bed.

The keys jingle in my hand as I pick out the right one. I can barely hold my eyes open. Inside, I make my way to the staircase, holding on to the railing for support. My iPod is turned on low, drowning out the day. I finally make it to my bed where I collapse.

Dizziness sweeps over me the moment before I plunge into a dark abyss.

I’m running through the large, desolate lot that sits beside Randy and Beth’s house—so fast that my hair is blowing freely. The trees move like soldiers forming ranks at a battlefield; their branches linking together. They form a barrier between me and the edge of the forest.

“Who…dares…enter…our…ground?” Each word catches on the edge of a breeze, as if it takes great effort for him to speak.

“I’m Candra.”

Though no mouths move, I know they’re speaking to me. My legs tremble and I wonder how they’re able to say anything.

The trees glance at each other. Their structures crack and groan when they move even a hair of an inch. The elder tree in front sizes me up and down. Behind him, I see several pairs of the now familiar glowing yellow eyes.

“I need to get to them!” I point beyond, for I can’t see their actual bodies; the forest is too dark.

“Hmm,” one of the trees says, grumbling. He glances toward his comrades on both sides. Time seems to have slowed drastically with each move they make. “Proceeeeed.”

The eyes move behind him and disappear. I have no clue where they went, so I begin to run. My lungs breathe in the fresh, crisp air; it’s exhilarating. Trees become one big blur, and the ground sinks a little each time my feet touch down. Easily, I dodge branches that threaten to mar my face and whip through my hair.

The trees come in and out of focus quickly. Their faces express concern, as they try to tell me something.

“What?” I ask.

But I’m moving too fast to hear them. My feet won’t stop when I tell them to; it’s like they’re being controlled by some higher power.

“Go…” I catch one say as I pass. Go where? They point in the direction I came from. Back to Beth’s?

I shake my head and yell, “I can’t!”

Their faces are full of sorrow. “Go…back…” they say. Moans rise from the trees, and their hollowed voices say the same words over and over again in unison.

I become frantic. Why are they telling me to go back? No sooner does that thought cross my mind than I halt at the bank of a tiny stream, my feet not stopping on their own accord. I glance all around me. The only source of light is the silver moon above. Something moves in the shadows, something dark and oppressive. Anguish weighs my body down as it moves closer. A faint outline appears—tall and black, human almost, with gleaming eyes. It stands on the opposite side of the bank.

“Who are you?” I try to get a better look at his face, but can’t make it out, even in the moonlight.

“I am everything here,” he says. “You don’t belong. Go back, Candra.” His voice echoes; its edge causes my whole body to shudder. I’ve never heard anything like it, so ethereal and dark at the same time.

I lick my lips and squint to try and get a better view. Still no luck.

“Why should I go back?” I ask.

I hear the words drifting around me and into my ears: “There’s nothing for you here. Go back. Those close to you will pay the price. You must leave,” he says. Before I can say another word, he backs into the shadows and falls to the ground, thrashing about, glowing eyes the only indication of where he’s located. A low growl erupts from the darkness.

I whirl and run back the way I came. Back through the trees that coax me to return home.

Beth’s standing in the front yard. Her hands are cupped around her mouth, and she’s screaming something. When I approach, I know what she’s yelling.

My name.

“There you are,” she says. “We were all so worried about you.”

“We?”

She lays her hand on my low back and guides me inside the house. Randy, Jana, Blake, Mom and Dad wait in the living room.

Each time I try to explain what happened in the forest, someone speaks over me. Their words are jumbled, and I have no idea what they say. A heavy fog rolls along the floor. My vision begins to blur.

Everyone fades out of sight.

I wake in a cold sweat and in my pitch-black room.

Chapter Five

The next morning, my brain and nerves are still in a tizzy over the dream. I can’t contemplate where this vision came from, or how it seemed so realistic. I try to pass it off, telling myself it’s just a dream, but my heart tells me otherwise. I glance at the locket resting against my chest.

Even if I want to, I can’t go back to Charleston. Not yet.

Mom and Dad set a rule—I have to finish senior year in good standing. My primary focus is passing my classes and leaving this town. There’s nothing else here for me.

“I’m going to explore!” I call to Beth as I bound out the front door. I don’t wait to hear her response about being safe, and not talking to strangers. Whatever parents and guardians tell kids.

The wind whips against my cheeks. My nose burns from the cold, and the tips of my ears grow numb. I glare at the dead leaves crunching under my shoes. I hate chilly weather.

I walk until I have blisters on my feet. Central West Hartford reminds me of an old-fashioned town. Brick shops line the main street and small trees are planted sporadically down the edge of the sidewalks. Store owners decorate their window displays in time for autumn with fiery orange and red leaves, and pumpkins.

My attention is directed to a window paying homage to the new season, when I hear, “Candra! Hey!”

I look up and see Jana, who glances at her cell phone, hastily using the keypad.

“Oh, hey, Jana,” I say.

She slides the phone in her front jean pocket. “What’s up? What do you think of Hartford so far?”

“It’s, uh, different than Charleston.” I shrug and give her a half-assed smile.

“Wait until you see the leaves fully change colors. They’re beautiful here.” Her face lights up, like she’s retelling her favorite story to a child.

“That’s great,” I say with no enthusiasm.

“Are you walking around by yourself? It’s a long walk from your house.”

“Yeah. How’d you know where—”

She laughs. “Oh, don’t be silly. Everyone knows where Randy and Beth live.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Really? Huh.”

“Why don’t you come inside?” she asks. Not waiting for my response, she motions me inside a tiny boutique. I glance at the sign hanging above the door. It reads: Livia’s Corner Closet. There’s a HELP WANTED sign taped in the bottom right window.

The walls are covered with white shelves full of clothes, and circular racks fill up the rest of the area. The clothes are too trendy for my taste. I’m not a pink fru-fru kind of girl, but it definitely suits Jana’s style. As I near the counter, I smell lavender and something infused with it in the air. Vanilla, maybe?

“So, you work here?” I ask dumbly, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Yes, I love it! Are you thinking about getting a job? We’re hiring. It’s a great way to pass the time and get some extra money.” She purses her lips and her eyes glimmer in anticipation.

“I don’t really do jobs. Never had one.” I play with a pen on the counter, not noticing her reaction.

“You could always try,” she says.

I think of several sarcastic responses before saying, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I’m not really a people person, so I wouldn’t exactly help with business.”

Her shoulders drop. “You never know. Maybe you could try it for a few days. We don’t get a ton of customers as it is, but it’s better than sitting at home all the time.”

I stare at her for a minute, trying to decide my best option. I don’t want a job. I don’t want anything to do with this town. “Give me an application, and I’ll figure it out tonight.”

Her eyes grow wide and she sucks in a deep breath. “Really?” she exclaims, exhaling and clapping her hands. “Oh, I’m so excited now!” She reaches under the counter and tears off an application from the stack. She hands it to me with the cheesiest grin on her face.

I can’t help but laugh. “You’re way too excited for your own good.”

“I can’t help it. Not many people can stand my hyperness for long periods of time.” She glances down at the counter, refusing to look at me.

I don’t know what to tell her. I’m not used to someone so bubbly either. Sean and Layla were the laidback, quiet type.

“It’s not that bad. You’re just a happy person.” Who am I kidding? She’s like a kid on Christmas morning.

She quickly looks up at me; her eyes brighten, a slow grin returning to her face. “You think so? I don’t mean to scare people off. I try to be nice to everyone.”

“Not everyone deserves someone being nice to them.”

“That’s true.” She wobbles from side-to-side, like she’s antsy about something. “Do you think, maybe, you’d want to go to the movies tonight?”

Her question renders me speechless. Nobody’s bothered asking me to do anything since I moved here. “Oh, um,” I stammer, “yeah, sure, I guess.”

“It’ll be fun. We’re meeting at the ice cream shop just up the street. You can stay here with me until I close, and we can walk over there together, if you want to.”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” I nod, gaping at the application in my hands.

She stabs the application with her finger and adds, “And you can fill that out while you’re here.”

The disgruntled look on my face is enough to make her giggle.

While Jana’s busy helping customers, I sit in the employee’s room in the back, waiting to leave for the movie. I play on the computer for a little while, but games like Minesweeper and Solitaire bore me after an hour. I lay my head down on the computer desk.

Fatigue overwhelms me, and a dream-like state washes over my body.

I’m running through the open field beside Randy and Beth’s house again. The same motions, the same words—everything replays like last time. The trees at the border of the woods finally let me pass, leaving me to run through more trees that give me the warning. I come to the edge of the stream and stop. I see him on the other side. This time, he asks me to come forward, to come with him.

I don’t know what to do. I’m at a loss for words. My mouth opens to speak, but no matter how hard I try, the words won’t come out.

He holds his hand out to me, whispers something across the way. Somehow it reaches my ears.

He says, “You must leave. Follow me. I’ll show you the way out.”

Over and over again I think, “I can’t,” but my tongue won’t budge. I’m frozen in place. His yellow eyes watch me from a distance, and then he slowly falls to the ground. He bursts into a grey mist and disappears into the forest.

“I can’t go,” I say. My mouth finally allows me to speak, now that he’s gone. A tree moves somewhere behind me; I hear the groaning of its frame. Something begins to shake me.

“Candra,” it says. “Why can’t you go?”

My mouth won’t move.

“Candra?” It stirs me again. “Candra, wake up!”

I breathe in false wood, and realize I’m at the computer desk. Jana looms over me.

I sit up and squint from the florescent lights overhead. “Did I fall asleep? I’m sorry. I’ve been so tired lately,” I say.

“You talked in your sleep. I didn’t know anyone did that anymore.” She giggles.

“I keep having this—eh, it’s nothing.” No need to sound crazy.

Jana stares blindly at me before she asks, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

May’s Ice Cream Shop is just up the street. My body is languid, my mind still fuzzy. Jana drones about something insignificant, and I block her out, nodding occasionally and plastering a fake smile on my face.

When we enter May’s, the bell overhead chimes. All eyes are on us, like we broke a window to get in. The place has a Grease vibe to it—checkerboard floors, red booths, and a jukebox against the wall.

“Let’s find a place to sit. Blake should be here soon,” Jana says.

We walk toward a booth, when two guys slide in before we get there—the same guys that stopped me after school.

“Sorry, ladies. This seat is reserved,” one of them says. I’m not sure which one he is—Cameron or Ethan. He scoots over and sits with his back against the wall, legs across the seat.

“That’s okay,” Jana says. “We’ll just find another one. C’mon, Candra.”

But I don’t want to move. That’s our seat. The way he smirks, the menacing laughter behind his eyes—I want to rebel against his every move, like it’s in my blood. My fists ball at my sides.

“Which one is he?” I whisper to Jana.

She shakes her head at me, like she’s too afraid to speak his name. “Cameron,” she murmurs.

“Run along. Only big boys play here.” He leans forward and whispers, “You’re not invited to our little tea party.”

The brother on the opposite side of the table—who I now know must be Ethan—doubles over with laughter. I stare at him for a moment. Jana won’t stop tugging on my arm, begging me to come with her.

I can’t.

Hair rises on my body. I shudder. Cameron looks at me and grins, daring me to do something. Not now, but soon, I promise mentally. It’s like I’m in a zone. Jana’s voice continues to echo in the distance somewhere.

“Candra, please,” Jana whines beside me.

“I’d listen to your little friend if I were you,” he says.

Finally, I break our staring showdown and glance at Jana. “Yeah, sure,” I tell her.

She practically pulls me outside. I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten all day. Those losers took our seat, so now I’m irritable.

“Are you crazy?!” she yells.

Evil mental images evaporate as I’m sucked back into reality. “What?” I ask, confused.

“Okay, I know you’re new here and everything, but you don’t mess with Cameron and Ethan. Period,” she says.

“Why not?”

“They practically run this town. Their parents are in big with the mayor and a bunch of other people who are higher up in society.”

“And I care because…”

“Because they can get by with stuff that no one else can. They skip school, they vandalize property—”

“Sounds like my kind of people,” I say, laughing. But the way Jana’s face drops has me wishing I could take it back.

“I don’t think you’d want to associate with them,” she says, quietly.

“Are they really that bad?”

She nods.

“You two don’t look happy.” We turn around to see Blake. “What’s the problem?” he asks, placing his arm around Jana’s waist.

“Nothing, babe,” Jana says, before I can say anything. She smiles at me, and I smile back, acknowledging that we should blow off the two losers and have a good night.

“Well, if you two are set, are we still going to the movies?” Blake asks.

Jana and I say yes in harmony, not wanting Blake to suspect anything.

We walk up the street to the movie theater, which is new, and set in the corner of a shopping center. The lights on the outside of the building are appropriately theatrical—a running row of blue bulbs flash around each movie poster. A single fountain sits deserted in the middle of the court; its steady flow of water coming out of the mouth of a mermaid.

“Which movie are we seeing?” I ask when we reach the ticket booth.

“I want to see that new scary movie,” Jana says, her eyes dancing. She looks up at Blake.

He dramatically rolls his own eyes and grins. “If you want to, I guess it’s all right,” he says.

“Yes! Once Upon a Nightmare it is!”

I laugh and step in line to grab a ticket.

“You’re not buying your ticket,” he says behind me.

I turn around to joke with Blake, but he and Jana stare over my shoulder. When I spin to my right, I realize the person who said it is Benjamin.

“Um, hi,” I meekly say. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” he states. There’s no reaction on his face. No telling signs of what he feels. He’s vacant, expressionless. Beige lights around the theater box dimly light half of his face—his sculpted jaw, his dark eyes, tan skin.

I forget to breathe.

He hands me a twenty and says, “Get whatever you want.”

That’s it. Nothing else is said.

He strolls off, as if handing money to someone is an every day occurrence.

“That’s…weird,” I say, still looking in his direction. He walks across the street and disappears behind the passing cars.

“You’re marked,” Jana says flatly.

I whip around to look at her. “Excuse me?”

She doesn’t say anything. She and Blake eye me cautiously, like I have some sort of contagious disease. Then they walk inside, leaving me to hurry and pay for my ticket.

Great. Just when I think this town can’t get any weirder, it does.

Crush pays for movie ticket then leaves. Check.

Friend tells me I’m marked—whatever that means. Check.

What’s next? My family telling me this was all a hoax and I get to go home soon?

Chapter Six

Jana invites me to go shopping with her and her friend, Lily, the next day.

“Listen,” Jana says, “I’m sorry about what I said last night—about the being marked thing. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. It’s a joke we play on new people to freak them out.” Something in her tone of voice makes me believe otherwise.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I catch a glance from Lily, but she quickly flips through the clothing rack. I realize I know nothing about her. She’s petite, blonde and a total prep. I’ve seen her around the hallways at school. Although she seems like a nice girl, there’s something about her I don’t like. Maybe I’m overreacting, or maybe it’s the fact that she snubs me every chance she gets. I just can’t put my finger on it.

Nothing appeals to me at the boutiques. I buy one shirt, because it’s on sale, and it’s the only shirt that has my style written across it—a graphic tee that I can easily wear a hoodie over. Jana and Lily’s arms are loaded down. I think about taking Jana up on that offer for a job, because I’ll have more money to spend. But, if today’s shopping adventure is any indication, I won’t have much to blow it on, anyway.

By the time we load up in Jana’s Altima, it’s dark outside. The new night brings chilly air. My breath turns into white vapor each time I exhale.

“Hey, can you drop me off at Ben’s?” Lily asks.

Jana glances at Lily out of the corner of her eye before saying, “Yeah, sure, I guess.” She shrugs.

“Ben?” I ask.

Lily turns around in the passenger seat. “Yeah, Benjamin Conway.”

My heart stops beating.

“Are you two…together?” I ask, almost unable to get the question out.

She smiles. “You could say that.”

The trees lining the road become my main focal point. Anything to avoid my thoughts.

Jana pulls into a hidden driveway. Scraggly bushes and shrubbery form a net, camouflaging it from the road. If anyone tries to get out, we’re screwed—there’s barely enough room for one car. Her headlights beam down the dirt path, and nothing immediately comes into view.

“Are you sure this is it?” Jana asks. “It doesn’t look like anyone uses the driveway.”

“Half the time they don’t,” Lily says, giggling.

“What do they use?” I ask.

Lily turns her head toward me and drops her eyes, raising them again to look at Jana. Neither of them responds to my question as we approach a two-story, grey Colonial. The house is engulfed in trees and plants.

“Man, someone needs to do some yard work,” I say, shrugging them off.

“Thanks for dropping me off, Jana,” Lily says. “It was nice to meet you.” She smiles at me.

“You too,” I say. I mean, it’s not exactly her fault she’s dating my crush.

Jana walks Lily to the front door. I get out, too, snooping around. The forest behind the house looks familiar, though I can’t figure out why. A dog howls in the distance, and I’m immediately frozen in place. The sound leaving its mouth, drifting into the air, is the most heartbreaking cry I’ve ever heard.

“Ready to go?” Jana asks, walking up behind me.

I ignore her and continue listening. She stares with me.

“Sounds awful,” she says.

“It’s upset,” I whisper. “What if it’s hurt?”

Jana shakes her head. “I doubt it.”

“Maybe I should go check on it.”

“Or…maybe not! I wouldn’t go into those woods alone, if I were you,” she says, placing her hands firmly on her hips, her mouth forming a hard line.

“Why’s that?” I murmur, not really caring what her answer is. I’m curious, inexplicably drawn toward the woods. It’s like my body isn’t mine anymore. Something deep, something hidden, aches inside me and pushes me forward.

“Candra! You can’t go in there! We have to go!” she calls behind me, but the edge of the forest looms just ahead. For a second, I believe the trees will talk to me, like in my dreams.

Howling continues somewhere to my right. I step into the forest’s edge and begin my trek slowly. I don’t want to startle the poor dog, just help it.

“Doggy?” I feel stupid for asking aloud.

Before I take another step, Jana yanks me away from the woods and drags me to her car. Her grip on my arm is tight, but I still fight her the whole way, attempting to escape her grasp.

“Let go of me! That puppy needs help,” I say.

“No, it doesn’t. Trust me.” She opens the passenger door. “Get in. I’m taking you home.” I’ve never seen her more serious. My heart pounds inside my chest, and my head tells me I should listen. So, I obey.

The whole way home my mind won’t shut up, worrying about that dog—and if it’ll be okay. Jana is as stiff as a board in the driver’s seat, completely fixated on the road ahead.

“I know it’s weird, but this place has always given me the creeps,” she says, turning into the driveway. I’m surprised she spoke.

I decide not to press her about the dog in the woods. She seems really tense about the situation, even though I’m dying to find out what her problem is. “Really? How come?”

“I’m not sure.” She looks lost, like she’s in some far away place in her mind.

“You’re more than welcome to come in,” I say.

She shakes her head. “No, that’s okay, but thanks.”

She waits to leave until I’m safely inside. Beth greets me at the bottom of the staircase.

“I thought I heard a car pull up,” she says. “I’ve made dinner, if you want something to eat.”

“Thanks, but I’m really tired. I think I’ll go lay down for a bit.”

Beth frowns, but doesn’t say anything. She walks back into the kitchen. I shut the door to my bedroom, ready to crash at any moment. My eyelids are heavier than they’ve been in a while, even more so than a couple of days ago.

I fall onto my bed, bouncing with the mattress. The ceiling shines somewhat, and then becomes fuzzy.

I run away from the man across the bank. This time, he doesn’t disappear—he follows closely. He yells at me, but I’m too frightened to stop and find out what he wants. The trees’ calls rise in one agonizing shriek.

A thick, grey fog cloaks the ground around me; it becomes deeper as I press forward. The trees are close now, holding out their rough arms to try and stop me. I have no idea where I am or where I’m headed.

I have to escape him.

He’s close enough that I hear what he says.

“Creatures of the dark they come…”

I cry out for help, surprised my legs can run for this length of time without cramping.

“Killing humans one-by-one…”

No. He can’t reach me. I won’t let him. I can’t die.

“If you hear them howl at night, lock your doors and windows tight.”

Howl? Like the dog? Something ahead of me whimpers. Its cry echoes against the trees. The man behind me stands still.

Blinding white light explodes before me.

I bolt up in bed. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck and the sides of my forehead. My breathing is harsh and erratic.

When I finally calm down, I slide off my bed and open my window. A cool breeze wafts in, rolling over my sweat beads and causing me to shiver. I look up at the bright moon, hanging low in the sky. I almost have the window shut, when something moves in the shadows of the trees below-- a black figure.

My mind races, as does my heart. I can’t think straight. So many questions come to mind. I’m sucked into a trance, unable to will my body to move.

My breath fogs the window. The stranger stares back, never moving.

Don’t do anything stupid, I tell myself, but it’s hard not to run outside and confront him. I’ll be dumber than a frozen pea if I attempt to leave the safety of this house. Every ounce of energy drains from my body, leaving me with only adrenaline to run off of.

This can’t be happening, I think.

But it is.

This is my one chance to find out who he is, what he wants and why he haunts me in my dreams. I swing open my bedroom door and rocket down the stairs. The deadbolt on the front door makes a swift clanking noise, and the door itself creaks. I open it enough so I can slip through and dart outside.

Nothing.

He’s gone. Vanished.

“Candra? What are you doing out here?”

It’s Beth. I freeze.

Oh, shit. She’ll never believe me in a million years. Think of something good—quick!

I put on my best zombie face and start mumbling. “The bird…it fell…they tried to eat it.”

“Oh, dear,” Beth says.

“What’s going on?” Randy asks, as he steps outside.

“I think she’s sleepwalking,” Beth whispers. “We need to get her back to bed. She could go into shock if we startle her.”

Beth leads me inside, as I continue the mumbling act. Randy follows behind her. She slowly opens the door; it creaks louder than when I opened it. She walks with me step-by-step until we reach my bedroom.

“You just go back to sleep, sweetie. Nobody’s after your birds. I’ll protect them,” Beth says, her face oh-so-serious.

I try my hardest not to laugh. Her forehead creases, causing deep lines. I can pretend to go into shock, but once Beth finds out I’m joking, she’ll send me off to a deserted island or something. Instead, I pretend that subconsciously I know what she’s talking about.

“Elizabeth, when are we going to tell her?” Randy asks.

Am I dreaming again?

“Soon, dear. But not now. Let her get adjusted first,” Beth replies.

“The changes are happening now. There’s no time to wait. She needs to know,” he argues.

Beth shushes him. “She needs her rest.”

My bedroom door clicks shut.

What do they need to tell me and why are they waiting to do so? Great, something else to worry about. And what changes? Something tells me this isn’t the type of change a kid experiences during teenage years, like a girl going through her first cycle.

Pushing that thought aside, I think about him. How did he escape so quickly? More importantly—what does he want with me?

Rolling onto my side, my eyes flutter—heavy from lack of sleep. I can’t pretend anymore. I am exhausted.

~*~

Dawn breaks, and sunbeams warm my eyelids. I roll out of bed and throw on some clothes. My window’s shut. Beth must’ve closed it last night. I glance outside, but don’t see the familiar yellow eyes watching me from the tree line. My body is sluggish, and it takes every part of me not to call the school and say I’m sick.

The whole day drags, and I don’t notice anyone—not even Benjamin. All I can think about is who the person from my dreams is and what he wants with me. How did he become a reality?

I arrive early to Geography. Jana and Blake are in their seats, looking beat.

“What’s wrong with you two?” I ask.

“We were up late,” Jana mumbles. She slumps further down in her seat, refusing to look at me directly.

“Partying?” I question.

“No,” she grumbles.

“Okay…” I don’t pursue the conversation further.

Mr. Williams walks into class. “Just to let everyone know, we’re having a fire drill, so don’t think the school is actually on fire.” He turns to the board.

Two minutes later, the red bulb above the classroom door lights up, and the deafening sound rings through the hallways. I practically jump out of my desk. Mr. Williams assembles us into a single-file line at the front of the classroom, so we can walk out “as a class.” We look stupid, in my opinion. Filing out of a high school like we’re twelve again.

Classes move outside and to the street across from the parking lot. I stand with Jana and Blake as we wait for the fire department to arrive. Each teacher checks their students’ names off of a list, noting whether anyone lags behind.

A few groups down from where my class stands are Cameron, Ethan, Benjamin and Lily. Lily plasters herself against Ben. His arm loosely drapes around her waist. I growl in annoyance. Cameron glares at me. I want to get inside his thoughts. I know he hates me—that’s apparent—but I want to know the reason.

Karma’s my only conclusion. I can’t think of anything else I’ve done to cause this. Maybe it’s from putting my parents through hell. Maybe it’s from staying in trouble. I really don’t know.

My mind’s still racing with questions, as the fire chief signals an OK and the flock of students wanders back to the school.

Chapter Seven

I decide things will only get worse—if I let them.

Benjamin talks to me in English. Nothing significant, just small talk about the stupid play we’re reading. I don’t want to get attached to anyone, especially not to him if he’s truly dating Lily. My emotions are still shattered because of what my parents did to me, and the fact that, if I’ll eventually go home, there is no way I could pull off a long-distance relationship.

“As soon as I get a job, I’ll pay you back,” I tell him, mentioning the other night at the movie theater.

He shakes his head. “Think of it as a gift.”

“For what?”

He shrugs. “Because I’m nice like that.”

“Shouldn’t that be money you spend on your girlfriend?” I ask sarcastically.

He stares straight ahead, his jaw clenches. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

I play it cool. “Really? That’s funny. Because I went shopping with her yesterday. We dropped her off at your house.”

“You were at my house?” He whips his head around to face me, his eyes growing wide.

“Yeah, why?”

He rolls one shoulder in annoyance, which matches the look on his face. “Candra, you can’t go there anymore. I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just, don’t go there, okay?”

I play with my pencil, rolling it between my fingers. “Sounds like you’re being rude to me. By the way, you might want to check on your dog. The poor thing wouldn’t stop whining.”

The bell rings, and I grab my books, already getting the hang of stacking them together five minutes ‘til. When I look back, Benjamin still sits in his desk, watching me intently. My body shudders.

I hate it when he looks at me like that.

In the hallway, I run into Jana.

“Where are you headed?” she asks.

“Lunch. But first, my locker.” I shake my books in the air.

“Ah, I see. Do you want to sit with me and Blake? We’ll save you a spot.” She bumps me with her hip.

“Yeah, go on. I’ll catch up in a sec.”

She disappears around one corner, and I disappear around the next. As I open my locker door, chaos ensues somewhere behind me. I glance over my shoulder and notice two boys fighting down the hall. One’s back faces me, while the other is on the ground, arms shielding his face. The crowd around them grows. Everyone stands back against the lockers to get out of the way.

Teachers race when they hear the commotion. They peel the two boys off of each other. One is escorted down one end of the hallway, and the other breezes past me. When he looks up, I see who it is. Cameron.

His hair is roughed up, but other than that he doesn’t have a scratch or bruise on his body. Not that I can see, anyway. His eyes meet mine and for a split second, I swear they flash yellow.

I don’t realize how intently I’m staring, until he breaks free of the teacher’s grasp and rushes toward me.

He slams me against my locker. My head crashes into it, causing a vibrating echo. The teacher tries to yank him off of me, but he’s stronger. Way stronger. He shoves the teacher to the ground, and then turns back to me.

I’m frozen in place. My mind runs through a list of self-defense actions. Kick him in the groin. Poke his eyeballs. Head-butt him.

Okay, maybe that last one won’t work.

He looks at me in a way that nobody should be looked at, with pure hatred and evil. I’m certain he detests me, for whatever reason.

“Got a problem?” he asks, finally getting around to his point.

His eyes are dark, filled with no hope. Looking into them depresses me.

“N-no problem,” I stutter, shaking my head.

“A staring problem, maybe?” he suggests.

I shake my head again. He’s in my face now. I can almost taste his humid breath.

The kids in the hallway observing the previous fight inch nearer to the tiny cluster around him and me. It seems like, in one collective breath, they’ve sucked the air out of the hallway as they wait for one of us to make the next move.

Adrenaline swims through my bloodstream, causing a temporary high. Every hair on my body prickles to a fine point. My hands clench tightly at my sides, but I’m almost numb to my fingernails digging into my palms. Closing my eyes, I attempt to push aside nausea churning in my stomach.

It doesn’t work.

Whispers circulate the hallway, burning my ears. Nobody believes in me. Everyone has his back.

Foolishly, I think of clicking my heels, but know that won’t work. I won’t magically be transported home.  I’m here to stay away from trouble, I tell myself.

But trouble just found its way back to me.

“I’m not going to fight you,” I tell him, my voice shaky even while I try to control my nervousness. Opening my eyes to look into his, I have to show him I can stand my ground.

He doesn’t say anything at first, only watches me. His eyes lighten, as a rich chocolate brown replaces the black, but they still hold a threat. “You won’t last here,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

He cocks his head to one side, running his eyes up and down my face. They land on my neck. I’m scared. Like really, really scared. He leans in close…and sniffs me. Gross. Who does that? I try to duck under one of the bridges his arms make against the lockers, but to no advantage.

“Get out of my face,” I command, wanting so badly to shove him away from me.

He laughs. “You need to go far, far away, little one.”

Déjà vu. Didn’t think it existed, but apparently it does. Just like my dream.

“I’d love to go home, but until I graduate, I’m stuck here.”

He tsks me, shaking his head.

“What is your problem? I mean, what did I ever do to you?” I blurt.

“Long story.”

“But I haven’t been here that long.”

“Oh, Candra, it’s painful how little you know. You have no idea what’s about to happen to you, yet everyone around you does.”

“You kicking my ass?” I guess.

He belts out a laugh. “Not even close.”

“So, wait…you’re not going to kick my ass? I’m confused.”

He only smiles at me, sucking in a deep breath, and then exhaling. Nothing more is said when he brushes past the circle of people. He glances over his shoulder and says, “Tell Randy and Beth we’re coming for them. Soon.”

My head feels like it’s full of helium. The incessant tick, tock of the clock on the wall drives me insane. I grit my teeth. Like I don’t have enough to deal with right now… My chest feels fuzzy and an electric vibe pulses through my arms and legs.

“We’re?” I ask, my teeth clenched so tightly I think they’re going to crack into hundreds of pieces.

With his back still turned to me, he says, “Oh, yes.” He acts like going after my family is an easy task.

“Stay away from them. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you won’t get away with it.”

He wheels around to face me, and the corner of his mouth curves into a conniving grin. He closes the distance between us. “I can get away with anything. Neither you nor that pathetic aunt and uncle of yours can stop me.”

“The police could,” I say.

Laughter spews all around us. I forgot he has a fan base.

“You really are new,” he says.

Then I remember what Jana said about his family being in with people of authority.

“It’s not right.”

“Call the cops.” He throws his hands up and parades around the hallway, only causing more laughter at his charade. “I surrender.”

My fingertips tingle.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you from going near my family,” I tell him.

“I’m shaking. Really.” He steps closer to me and whispers, “Plus, I’d like to see you try.”

Tears well up in my eyes, not from being scared, but because I’m so fed up with arguing. He’s like talking to a kid. The clock on the wall won’t shut up. I do the only thing that comes to mind, which is childish in itself.

Tick, tock.

I push him. Not hard enough, in my opinion.

Tick, to—

The surface of his body, for the nanosecond that I touch him, feels like concrete. He’s airborne the moment before his body crashes through a window across the hallway. Everyone’s faces are plastered with shock.

There’s no way I can generate enough force to cause a seventeen-year-old boy to fly across a room. Screams are somewhere distant, but I hear them. Voices are deep, delayed. Students scramble in the hallway. The floor is covered with glittering glass debris. A gaping hole now resides in the window.

They’re terrified of me, I think. What have I done?

Glancing up, I see the clock on the wall stopped at the exact moment Cameron hurled through the window. That’s not possible. It’s not right.

My feet are glued to the floor; it’s like another force holds them in place. I glance at my hands, and then back up at the students running past me. There’s an exit door nearby, and I bolt out of it. I don’t stop until I reach the parking lot. My breathing is intense and labored. My mind has all these crazy thoughts repeating over and over about what just happened, how it happened. The world swirls around me.

“Candra, wait!” someone yells.

I hear them, but don’t see them. I’m seriously not in the mood to talk, and I sure as hell don’t need them asking me what happened, because I have no freakin’ idea.

“Candra!” yells the voice again.

Propping myself against a car for support, I silently pray that everything will stop spinning. Someone grabs me and shakes me. Looking up, I see a figure shrouded by the sun.

An angel.

But it moves, and I see that it’s Benjamin.

“Talk to me,” he says. “Say something.”

“Something,” I mumble.

He grins.

“What are you doing here?” I wheeze.

He glances toward the school. “I have classes here, in case you forgot.”

I want to punch him, but I’m too afraid I’ll send him flying into a windshield or dent a car.

He drops the joking. “You’re going to be okay,” he says.

“No. Something’s seriously wrong with me. I need help.”

He pulls me into his arms, so my head lies against his warm chest. I need to be calm and collected, but it’s hard when the person I thought avoided me for no reason decides to be my savior during a crucial time. The fibers on his shirt tickle my cheek. Everything gradually stops whirling.

“Your brother,” I mumble.

“Mmm?” His hot breath tickles the tip of my ear.

I can barely breathe out the words, “He’s probably cut up pretty badly.”

“Cameron will be fine.”

I jerk my head away from his chest, but he doesn’t let go of my arms. “Fine? The guy went through a window! I’m sure he has glass stuck in him and is bleeding everywhere.”

“Why are you so worried about him? He threatened your family.”

“You saw everything?” I cringe. “I only meant to make an impression, not, well—you know.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you he’s okay,” he says, motioning for me to follow.

“I can’t go back in there. I saw the look on everyone’s face. They think I’m a freak.”

Benjamin smiles. “No more than I am.”

Deep down I know not returning to school isn’t an option. I’ll have to find out the extent of Cameron’s injuries. I’ll be sent to a boot camp for girls once my family hears about this.

I trail behind Benjamin. Pandemonium occurs throughout the school once word travels about my encounter with Cameron. Mr. Garrison, the principal, stands in the hallway speaking to a few other teachers. Eyes fall on me and he turns around to see what the fuss is about. His hands are firmly stuck to his hip bones and his lips form a thin, straight line. The hands drop, along with his face. He immediately walks over to me.

“Candra, come with me,” he says.

I oblige. Maybe I’ll be sent back to Charleston…or an alternative school. Any place other than here would be good for me. Hell, I’d take prison over this.

Mr. Garrison’s office is in the very back of the main office. He paces the floor behind his massive desk. I take a seat in one of the two brown leather chairs facing him.

His desk is bigger than any teacher’s desk I’ve seen. It’s made of wood, and not the fake kind, either. Picture frames with black-felt backs adorn both sides, and a gold-stemmed lamp lights one corner. School memorabilia—mostly sports—sit on bookshelves against the wall to my right.

Mr. Garrison fiddles with a few papers on his desk, not really reading them. “Ah, where to begin,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. Loose change clinks every time he moves a finger. He doesn’t really speak to me—his eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

“I don’t know what happened. I swear,” I say.

He glances at me this time. “No, I imagine you don’t. Um,” he begins, rubbing the scruff underneath his chin, “I remember when I was your age.”

Oh, God.

He continues. “Nothing was easy, and it’s even tougher today. There’s always going to be those kids that bully you, but you don’t have to take it.”

“But I—”

He holds his hand up to stop me from finishing my sentence. “I know. Not your fault. Cameron’s a rock. His family is favored. And you’re shit out of luck.”

My eyes bulge. Did he just say that to a student?

“You have a lot to learn about living in this town. Most of which you won’t like. But I will tell you that I’ve never cared for the Conways. I do, however, care a lot about your aunt and uncle. They’re good people.”

I nod, still confused at what his point is. Or if he’s ever going to reach it.

He exhales through his nose rather loudly. “I think good runs through your veins, so I’m letting you off on this one.”

“Whoa. Really?”

“However,” he says, pointing a finger at me, “nobody is to know of this. If anyone asks, you got suspended. Think of it as a mini vacation. You need time to collect your thoughts and time to talk to your aunt and uncle about what happened today. School doesn’t need to interfere with that. I’ll write it off, so it doesn’t count on your record.”

“This is awesome,” I mumble, not sure if I’m still in la-la land or not.

“Now, get out of here. Go home. I’ll see you next week.” He winks.

I stand and basically stumble toward the main office door.

“Tell Randy and Beth I said hello!” he calls behind me.

I sort of nod and traipse through the door, my mind in a haze. The whole day has been a blur, really. Nothing makes sense. I can’t get past the weird things that continue to happen to me.

Cameron tries to stop me outside. Him and his little posse. They jeer and snicker at me, because they think I got in trouble. Ben was right—there’s not a scratch or cut on him, from what I can see. I know what I saw, though. He went through the glass. So how can he walk away with no harm done?

I sulk and ignore them, acting like it ruins my week. Idiots.

In the parking lot, Benjamin catches up with me, falling in sync with my step. I stop long enough to hear him out. He apologizes for my suspension and for the way his brother’s been acting.

“If he’s so bad, then why don’t you stop him?” I ask and continue walking.

“He’s too…powerful,” he replies, catching up to me again. “Besides, he’s Mom and Dad’s favorite.”

“Ah, I see. The One Who Can Do No Wrong.”

“Exactly.” Benjamin snorts.

“Aren’t you the oldest?”

He nods. “I am.”

“I see…” I’m at a loss for words. The whole day wobbles before me. “Listen, I don’t really need your help all the time, you know.”

He glances at me; confusion plastered across his facial features.

“You being the Town Hero and everything,” I explain.

“I’m not,” he says modestly. “And call me Ben.”

I nod and say, “So, you came to help me in the parking lot because…”

“Because I know how my brothers can be. I don’t want to see someone else get hurt due to their stupidity.”

“I’ve heard your family can’t be stopped,” I joke, but he refuses to look at me.

“Listen, it was great talking to you and everything, but I need to head home.” He points in the opposite direction.

Honestly, I don’t know what to tell him. Run home to Mommy and Daddy. I teeter back and forth, push my hands in my pockets, and say, “See ya.”

He hesitates for a moment, but nods, giving me an awkward wave goodbye.

Chapter Eight

The worst part about the fight is that I have to face Randy and Beth, possibly Mom and Dad.

Strike one.

The best part: I kicked Cameron Conway’s ass.

I lay on the couch until Randy and Beth are home from work, contemplating the day’s big event. The fight doesn’t make sense, but they’ll know sooner or later what happened. Might as well get it out in the open, so they won’t question why I’m not in school. They look surprised to see me downstairs.

“I need to talk to you guys,” I say.

They shoot each other quick glances before Beth says, “Okay, what is it?”

“There was a fight,” I explain. “Basically, I…pushed a guy hard enough he went through a window.” I’m quick to add more. “But I didn’t know I’d pushed him that hard. I mean, how would I know I’m that strong? It’s not possible, really.” I suck in a deep breath, waiting for their responses. Beth’s holding Randy’s hand, and both have surprised looks plastered on their faces.

“It’s inevitable,” Randy says, standing behind the recliner Beth sits in.

Beth glances up at him and squeezes his hand tighter.

“We need to tell her,” he continues.

Beth sucks in a breath, and then exhales through the “O” her mouth forms. “Candra, what I'm about to tell you is very important, so listen carefully. I'm sure it's going to come as a shock to you and, well, you're bound to find out sooner or later, even if we don’t tell you. But we'd rather you hear it from us.”

This time, I’m the one who listens intently. I lean forward, as if that’ll help my hearing.

She continues. “Our family history dates back for hundreds of years. We’re…different from other people.”

My stomach does all kinds of somersaults and twists.

“Different? How? Wha—”

She holds up her hand to silence me. “Hear me out. This is going to sound crazy.”

I barely nod. At least, I think I do.

“We go by many names, but the one you might be familiar with is werewolf.”

Did she just say what I think she said? There’s no possible way. This is a joke.

I laugh harder than I’ve ever laughed before. Randy and Beth are clearly taken aback by my reaction.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say. “A werewolf?”

They nod. The looks on their faces tells me they aren’t joking.

I gradually stop laughing. My heart frantically beats against my chest wall, then takes a nose dive into the pit of my stomach. Enough of this nonsense. And to think—they’re the adults here. “Werewolves don’t exist.”

“They do in our world. We’ve been hunted down for generations. Our ancestors fought for their lives. Now we fight not to be seen. We have to live like humans, like everyone else around here. It’s for our own safety and for the safety of those around us. We can have normal lives. Pretend we’re human.”

“So, if I’m a werewolf, does that mean I’m adopted or something, because—”

“No, Amy and Bill are like us too.”

My parents? No freakin’ way.

“This is bullshit. I’m sure it’s meant to be funny, but it’s not.” I stand, contemplating running away from my crazy family. “I’m going for a walk. Hopefully when I get back you two will have a logical story to tell me.”

“Logical or not, it’s the truth,” Beth says. For a faint second, her eyes blaze a bright yellow.

My mouth drops. Those eyes are just like the ones I see outside my window—the same eyes that haunt me in my dreams.

“I’m sorry we had to break it to you like this,” Randy states. “Your mother and father, even though they have werewolf blood, they choose not to change. They made the decision once you were born. They didn’t want you to grow up thinking everyone’s a werewolf.”

I collapse on the couch. This can’t be true. None of this can be true. Like it’s not enough for me to deal with the fact that I made a guy fly through a window… Now they’re telling me I’m a furry monster.

Beth tears up. “It’s too soon.”

“She needed to know,” Randy says.

“On your eighteenth birthday, you will change. We all do,” Beth says.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” I stammer. If what they’re saying is true, which seems like the only logical explanation for all these weird events happening to me lately, then I only have until January. Oh, shit. I’ll be a werewolf in a few months.

“You don’t have any questions?” Randy asks, squeezing Beth’s hand tighter.

I look away, shaking my head. This isn’t real. It can’t be. Visions of old horror movies and urban legends flicker through my mind.

“Full moons,” is all I manage to get out.

“Do we change on full moons?” Beth tries clarifying. “The answer is no. We can change whenever we want.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t concentrate. Not happening. Can’t happen. Unbelievable.

“Silver?” I ask, wincing.

“You wear that locket around your neck, don’t you?” Beth asks, nodding toward the necklace resting against my chest.

Totally forgot about it. I glance at the silver heart gleaming up at me, as if to say: I’m still here, and so are you.

“Okay,” I begin, taking deep breaths, “will I hurt or…kill anyone?”

“There’s always that possibility, until you are accustomed to being transformed,” Beth explains. “But we’ll get you trained, so the chance of it happening will be slim. I will tell you, though, that if you ever smell blood, it takes a lot of self-control to stay away.”

I gulp.

“Are there more like us?” I question.

They look at each other, hesitating before answering my question. Beth squeezes Randy’s hand again. Each open their mouths to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Yes,” Beth finally answers.

“Around here?” My eyes grow wide.

Beth nods.

First, I’m a werewolf. Now they’re telling me that I live in a town with werewolves? This is a lot to take in. Not to mention the fact that my birthday is just around the corner. What will happen then? I imagine changing into a giant furball.

“Will it hurt?”

“The transformation? The first time around—yes.”

I open my big mouth again and ask, “Are there many?”

“There are a few,” Randy states.

“Anyone I know?”

“Yes,” Beth answers.

“Who?”

“I think this part of the discussion can wait a bit,” Beth informs me.

“Wait… You just told me I’m a werewolf, that my parents are werewolves, and there might be more out there. But you won’t tell me who they are? This whole conversation has been crazy, so why don’t you say whatever it is you need to say?” My head tingles from the adrenaline rush.

“Get some fresh air, Candra. When you come back, we’ll explain the rest.”

“Okay, a few minutes ago I wanted to leave. But the more I look at your faces, the more I realize you guys aren’t joking. This is real life. If I’m going to learn about my history and what happens when I…change, then I should hear it from you two, right?”

“How about we get you some water?” Randy asks, trying to change the subject.

“I don’t want something to drink. I want to know answers. You two brought this up, so you two need to finish it!” I blare.

“There’s a lot we can explain, and a lot we can’t,” says Beth. She nibbles on her lower lip for a minute, and then adds, “Candra, your parents didn’t send you here because you were in trouble. They sent you here to learn how to become a werewolf.”

Everything in my world crashes and bursts into smithereens.

Chapter Nine

The walk doesn't do me any good. Icy wind lashes at my cheeks. I think about brown and golden leaves crunching under my feet a week or so ago, how much I hate the cold, and how it's only going to get worse.

So many questions burn through my skull, and I want answers. I don't even make it to the end of the driveway, when I whip around and barrel toward the front door.

“Okay, give it to me. I want to know everything,” I demand, as I barge into the living room. Randy and Beth are seated on the loveseat. I plop down on the couch, sinking into the worn-out cushion. “Straight up. No bullshit. Let’s hear it.”

Beth wrings her hands, while watching me. “It’s a lot to take in all at once, Candra.”

“I know. But I want to know why these guys hate me for no reason. I want to know why I’m a werewolf, of all things. Why did my parents hide this from me, like they’re ashamed of what they—” I suck in a huge breath, “—what we are. How many of us exist? There are so many things…” I trail off.

Beth purses her lips and gives her next words consideration. A nervous laugh escapes her and she says, “First of all, we want you to keep your distance from the Conways, if possible. They’re a dangerous bunch. They don’t consort well with others. We need you to stay safe.”

“But—” I begin to protest.

“Please, let me finish. Once I’m through, then you can ask as many questions as your heart desires.”

I bite my tongue so hard I can taste the sickening metallic flavor, and my hands are clenched so tightly I’m afraid they might snap under pressure. My silence is taken as affirmation for her to continue.

“The Conways came to live here many, many years ago. One hundred and twelve, to be exact. They were very pleasant people, at first. We knew what they were. They said they wanted to start fresh, never giving details about their past. We learned their true nature not long after.

“They’re Hunters. Vicious, controlling creatures. Unlike us, they were out for blood. Banned from their last residence. When humans in this area came up missing or dead, we knew who it was. But the rest of us weren’t powerful enough to stop them. Over the years, factions have formed. Either you’re on their side, or you’re not. There’s only two.”

Images of innocent people dying, being slain by the hands of monsters, flash repeatedly across my mind.

I gulp, but my saliva seems to hitch itself in my throat. “And what happens if you’re not on their side?”

Beth smoothes her skirt with her hands and glances up at the ceiling, exhaling a tiny sigh. “They’ve done horrible things to people who know, yet don’t pick a side. Humans who are aware of the Conways—what they are—don’t get away so easily, and have to choose a side. If they don’t comply, well, they’re never heard from again.” Her eyes are distant, looking at the ugly brown carpet.

I shake my head. I don’t know what to say, what to tell her. My mind whirls with questions—mainly if everything is going to be all right.

“That’s…so…awful.” I manage to speak.

Beth finally glances my way. “Yes.”

“It’s either our side or theirs,” I murmur to myself.

Randy and Beth watch me intently.

Beth speaks again. “We’re among the few who stood up against them. A war brews, Candra—one that’s gone on for generations between our family and theirs.”

“So, that’s why they hate me?”

“You have Lowell blood. They’ll never like anybody with that name.”

“But Ben—” I start.

“Do not be deceived. Remember that he’s on their side, not ours.”

“He’s so nice to me, though. He apologizes for the way Cameron and Ethan treat me. I think he’s just scared of his parents.” I silently wonder why I’m sticking up for him. It’s not like we’re dating.

“Could be true,” Beth says, bobbing her head back and forth, weighing the options, “but I’d still be leery. He might have an ulterior motive.”

I shake my head. There’s no way.

“Principal Garrison…he…” I don’t know how to finish. Is he a werewolf too?

“He’s good friends with Randy and me, and he got you out of loads of trouble that you might otherwise be in if he was anybody else.”

“So, others know what I am?”

“They acquire the sense of heightened smell once they transform on their eighteenth birthday. I imagine that word has spread quickly among the werewolf community about your arrival.”

“Ben knows,” I whisper.

“Hmm?”

“If all of these people know, why hasn’t anyone said anything?”

“Maybe, in so many words, they have and you weren’t listening.”

I ignore her. “My having Lowell blood shouldn’t be enough reason for them to hate me. There’s something I’m missing, isn’t there?”

Beth watches me intently for a moment before saying, “You will receive powers on your eighteenth birthday. They are already too powerful as it is, but they want yours.”

“Powers?” I snort. “Since when do werewolves have powers?”

“We suspect these…abilities pre-date our time. No one knows for sure who the first werewolf was or how it was handed down, but we’ve evolved since then. Now we each gain a unique ability on our eighteenth birthday.”

I open my mouth to speak, but Beth talks over me.

“However, the only way to keep your powers is to wear a trinket to which the power can be bestowed.”

“A trinket?”

Beth nods toward my chest. I look down, picking up the locket and twisting it around to face me.

“We each have something. I have a ring. Randy has a watch. You have the necklace. If you lose it, your power can be contained in another trinket. The only possible way for them to take it is to use dark magic, something I’m not even remotely familiar with.”

“They can take my power?”

“With you being a young werewolf, it’ll be easier for them to steal your power. You won’t be guarded in your new form, and you definitely won’t be used to using your ability.”

“What’ll happen if they get it?”

“If they do get their hands on it somehow, they can extract the power and use it for their benefit. In essence, you won’t have your power any longer, and we’d have to take extra measures to retrieve it.”

Tears pool in my eyes. I keep my head down, pretending to stare at my locket. All this time I thought it was just a stupid necklace. I didn’t know it held my power. I didn’t know my parents were looking out for me.

“How does it work?” I choke out.

“The trinket has to have a spell cast upon it for it to hold the power correctly. If you were to lose your necklace once your power is active, then you would lose the power. As long as that locket stays around your neck, you’ll be fine,” she says.

I nod and twist it between my fingers again. “What ability will I have?”

“We don’t know. Even you may not understand it or release it for awhile. You might be out and about two months after your birthday and then it happens.” Beth shrugs. “We can’t tell you for sure.”

“What powers do you two have?” I finally redirect my gaze from the locket to them.

“Randy has the gift of creating things.”

“Like…”

“Anything,” Randy says, “from food to furniture.”

“Can you show me?”

Randy nods. He extends his hand, palm up, and a green apple appears out of thin air. He tosses it to me. I take a bite, crunching into the surface. It’s real as the ones sitting in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Whoa. That’s awesome.” I look at Beth. “What about you?”

“I have the ability of persuasion.”

“Nice. I hope I get something really cool,” I mumble.

“You will, dear. And I wish you’d find out quickly what your gift is.”

I bow my head, staring at the locket again. “Yeah, me too.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to visit a friend of mine. She can help you understand things, put them into perspective, if you want,” says Beth. Deep crevices form on her forehead, as she waits for my response.

“Yeah, that uh…that sounds cool.” I nod my head, trying to convince her and myself.

Chapter Ten

I don’t sleep at all that night, wondering what it’ll be like when I transform. Will I be some hideous monster that ravages the town, like in black and white movies, or will I know what I’m doing and be in control of my body?

An aroma billows upstairs and through my door—smooth and seductive. It lures me out of my bedroom. I practically lean against the wall on the way downstairs; I’m a zombie in the mornings.

“I made coffee,” Beth says when I enter the kitchen. “I didn’t know if you’d drink any or not, but I figured you had a long night.”

“No, coffee’s cool. I like coffee.” My head moves up and down, convincing her it’s okay, which is a total lie. I grab a mug out of the cabinet and pour the scalding hot liquid from the pot. One sip later and I spew coffee into the sink. “Gross! How can people drink it this way?” I wipe the residue from my chin.

Beth laughs. “You’ve never had coffee before, have you?”

I wince. “No, not really. I thought it’d sound more grown-up if I said I had.”

“Cream and sugar are by the pot,” Beth says, pointing to the powdered add-ons in glass canisters.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, reaching for both.

“I’m closing up the bookstore and we’re going to visit Magena—the one I told you about last night.”

My face scrunches. “What kind of name is that?”

Beth’s shoulders drop like she’s really hurt by my comment. “She’s a really good friend, Candra. You’ll like her, I’m sure.”

“I was teasing,” I say. “Why are we going to see her?”

“She knows a lot more than I do about our ancestors. I thought you might have a few more questions in you about the powers and where they come from,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee.

I pretend I’m in deep thought. “Maybe.”

She grins. “That’s what I thought. I told her we’d be there around noon, for lunch.”

I nod, dumping the pathetic excuse for a cup of coffee down the drain. I make it to the doorway when Beth stops me. One minute she’s behind me, sitting at the table, the next she appears before me.

“How’d you—”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” she says, ignoring how frightened I’ve become. “I know everything must be hard for you to grasp right now.”

“Actually, it clears a few things up for me,” I say, hesitating with my words, “if that makes any sense.”

Beth nods and rubs my arms. “I really hope you like it here. We don’t want to scare you off.”

“Oh, you won’t scare me off. I’ve been through some tough shit, so even if you do tell me to pack my bags and go home, it won’t hurt my feelings.” The corner of my mouth twitches.

Beth stares at me, like she’s considering what to say. She takes my hands in hers. “Well, we’re not going to send you home just yet. I think when you turn eighteen you should be the one to decide where you go and what life you choose to live.”

I purse my lips. “Thanks,” I murmur.

She steps aside and lets me pass.

Upstairs, I prepare to wash the night sweats from my body. Steam floats up my nostrils, filling up my lungs with moisture. My body is overloaded from mental exhaustion. I’ve replayed every word of the conversation between Randy, Beth and me. I’m still waiting for one of them to say it’s a really, really early April Fool’s joke.

Deep down, I know it’s not.

My wet hair clings to my upper back. I squeeze the excess water out. Grabbing a towel, I pat myself dry, and slip into a clean shirt and jeans. Lunch is a couple of hours away and I’m not sure what to do until then. Beth will be getting ready, and she’ll quite possibly consume the full two hours to do so. I’ve seen her in the mornings getting ready for work. She works at a bookstore for Pete’s sake, yet she gets all dolled up like she’s going to a four-star restaurant.

I nosedive onto my bed, squealing when I bounce. For the longest time, I stare at my window, wondering if the eyes are out there.

I know what you are now, I think. They frightened me at first, but not so much anymore. After today, I’ll learn about my past, present and, hopefully, future. The strange part about all of it is that I don’t feel different. I feel like the same me, not some overgrown beast. For now. Give me a few more months, and I might have a different opinion about the situation.

One minute I’m lying in bed, the next—I find myself at the window, not really sure how I got there. The eyes hover directly in front of me, beckoning me to pursue them. It’s only the eyes, though—no body is connected.

“I’ll be there in a second,” I say, but I see every action performed from a distance, like I’m dead and having an out-of-body experience. My eyes are glazed over. My words are robotic, lifeless.

Where am I going?

My physical body turns and runs out the door.

My spirit form, however, looks toward the window. The eyes still float, but they turn and watch me. They can see me. Abruptly, a body grows around the eyes, and leaps through the window. Glass shatters into a million tiny pieces across the floor.

“You have to leave,” says the werewolf. His eyes drop, like he’s sad. Though I can’t place it, the voice sounds familiar. I’ve heard it somewhere…and recently.

I open my mouth to speak, but it’s as if I’ve caught laryngitis. Every word wheezes from my throat, hoarse and raspy. I try to pronounce syllables, but they won’t form.

The werewolf bounds back through the broken window, where remains of glass protrude at impossible angles. I dart to see where he went, but he’s already gone. There’s only the other version of me, standing outside and walking around, like I’m in a fog.

I call down to my body, wandering aimlessly in the open field beside Randy and Beth’s. She doesn’t speak. She looks up at me and giggles.

What’s so funny?

She points at me. I shake my head, confused. Her eyebrows lift and she grins. She points again, nodding once.

In my peripheral vision, something stirs. I carefully turn around and see Cameron standing behind me. His hands are caked in blood; it trickles from his fingertips onto the carpet. Drip. He takes baby steps toward me. Drip. A scream hitches in my throat.

“I’ve killed them,” he says, with a twist of his mouth.

I shake my head, unable to respond. Who? I want to know.

He doesn’t answer. One of his hands cracks. Bones break and grow, reforming into longer fingers. His nails extend, creating claws.

I panic and turn around, prepared to fall to my death. But the window is intact, like none of this ever happened. Cameron springs at me. His deformed hand rises in the air and comes down at an inhuman speed—straight for my throat.

I bolt up in bed. Perspiration beads up on my forehead. Tiny hairs on my arm prickle. I glance around my room. Of course it’s the way I left it. These stupid dreams have me constantly wondering what’s real and what’s imaginary.

Swinging my legs around, I test how they perform on the floor. I’m a little shaky and don’t know if they’ll hold me up. But they do.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen, where I pour myself a glass of water. My throat is parched.

Beth prances by the doorway. She halts and backs up. “Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” I reply, chugging more water.

“Okay,” she says, totally unconvinced. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

I shoot her a confused look, and then glance at the clock on the stove. It’s almost 11:30.

“Sorry. I lost track of time,” I tell her.

“Oh, honey, were you asleep? Your hair is messed up,” says Beth, picking at a few pieces of hair that stick out in different directions. My hair’s frizzy from bed-head, like I stuck my finger in a light socket and electrocuted myself.

“I have these crazy dreams.” They’re dreams, so why do they bother me so much? “It’s nothing, really,” I say, quickly changing my tone and waving off my words.

“It sure doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me. You look awful. I mean, I hate to be the one to tell you.” She pauses, biting her lower lip. “Candra, if there’s anything you want to tell me—”

“There’s not,” I interrupt her, turning away and sitting my cup in the sink. “It’s just dreams. Dreams aren’t real.”

“Okay, well, if you change your mind, I’ll listen,” she says, patting me on the back. I nod, as she leads me into the living room. “Whenever you’re ready to do this, we’ll go.”

“Let’s go then. I’ve been ready since this morning.”

Outside, the air is as thick as concrete. Clouds lay low in the sky, creating a blanket of grey. We load up in Beth’s white Infiniti. She quickly turns a few knobs, trying to get the heat rolling, but the vents blow chilly air. My legs shake and I rub my hands together, since I’m not wearing gloves.

“I think this weather is getting worse,” Beth says, glancing through the windshield.

“I h-hate c-cold w-wea-weather,” I stutter.

Beth frowns. “I’m sorry, Candra. The engine will be warm soon.”

Heat circulates through the car by the time we reach the stop sign at the end of the street. I hold my hands in front of the vents, so they can defrost. Beth glances at me for a second, and then pays attention to the road.

“So this Magena…” I begin. The heat starts to relax me, and I lean back against my seat.

“Mmhmm?” Beth questions.

“What’s she like? Is she one of us?”

The crook of Beth’s mouth jerks. “She’s a lot older than Randy and I. She also doesn’t take sides. Ever. She doesn’t agree with the constant battle we’ve fought for decades. Be sure not to bring it up. We don’t want to upset her. There’s no telling what she might do,” she warns.

“But why doesn’t she pick sides, especially if she’s friends with you?” I ask, situating myself so that my body is turned toward the driver’s seat. The vent next to my window blows heat, feeling like it could scorch a hole in my jacket. I crack my window.

Beth glances at me, but doesn’t say anything about the cool air rolling through the car. Instead, she says, “Nobody asks her that. I can’t tell you.” She shrugs. “I do know that she comes from a very old line of werewolves. They believe in peace between humans and our kind. She stays out of our problems, and doesn’t ask questions.”

“Why don’t they ask her?” I stare out my window. The frigid air licks my forehead and makes my skin bristle.

“Someone asked her once, and they were literally kicked out. She’s made it crystal clear that she wants nothing to do with our families going back and forth with each other.”

“Okay,” I start, “no mentioning the Conways or anything having to do with people taking sides, and I’ll be good to go.”

“Right,” Beth confirms with a nod.

“What if she brings it up?” I glance out the window.

Beth falters before saying, “I wouldn’t count on it. She can be a tricky one, and she’s been known to test people. I’m positive she expects me to advise you beforehand of what she stands for.”

“Okay,” I say, pretending to zip my lips.

Magena’s decrepit house is on the other side of town, surrounded by—surprisingly—a rainbow of flowers. Sure, the place is a bit creepy, but the flowers add color and life. Beth and I wait at the front door. I’m scared one of the wooden porch boards will snap underneath our weight.

The front door creaks open.

“Come in,” Magena says with a couple of waves of her left hand. Her right hand is occupied with a cane. Her hair is a mixture of salt and pepper, and puffs up like a blowfish.

I sneak a quick glance toward Beth, but she ignores me.

“Hey, Maggie,” Beth says once she’s inside. I’m close behind her.

Maggie shuts the front door and says, “Is this her? Bill’s daughter?” Her voice is croaky and razor sharp, like she’s been smoking for one hundred years.

“Yes, this is Candra.” Beth places her hand on my shoulder.

No, I’m Mother Theresa in disguise.

Maggie gives me one sweeping glance up and down, then grunts. “She’s a strong one. More than she knows.”

I just stand there, convinced this woman is loony. Maggie hobbles toward the kitchen without saying another word. Beth turns to me and says, “She’s dealt with magic and she’s good at deciphering the core of people. If she says you’re strong, then you are, though you may not know it yet. C’mon,” she says, leading me into the kitchen.

Maggie stirs a pot full of something that smells like a mixture of freshly cut grass and blood.

I want to vomit.

To redirect my attention, I take in the house. It’s cramped, and random stuff adorns the walls. The kitchen is a faded pink. Not quite Pepto-Bismol pink, but at some point in time it might’ve been. Dried herbs hang from the window and in the arched doorways. A doll made out of wicker dangles on the wall nearest the front door.

The woman’s a freaking witch doctor.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Maggie wheezes. Even while standing in place and stirring her poisonous soup, her breathing comes out strong.

“What are you making? It smells delicious,” Beth praises.

I shoot Beth a crazy-eyed stare. She catches it and mouths, “What?” at me. I roll my eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes, young lady,” Maggie says. I whip my head around and see that her back faces me. She’s still fixing dinner. Carefully, she turns, tapping her skull, and says, “I have eyes in the back of my head.”

I’m flabbergasted. Does she really…

Beth leans over and whispers, “Told you.”

“How’d you do that?” I ask.

“Years of experience, my dear. You have much to learn.” She places piping hot bowls of stew in front of Beth and me. She brings a loaf of sliced, dark bread on a platter and sets it in the middle of the table. “Rabbit soup. Eat up,” she roughly states.

I tempt fate and try the food. Believe it or not, it’s actually better than I imagined. Before I realize what happened, I’m scraping the bottom of the bowl and using the bread to clean it dry.

I’m shocked with myself, but scoot my chair back and take my dish to the sink.

“Have a seat, Candra,” Maggie says, tapping my chair with her wooden cane. I oblige. “What is it you want to know?” Her eyebrows crease and her gaze might be considered menacing.

“She wants to know—” Beth begins.

Maggie interrupts. “I asked her, Elizabeth. Let the girl speak.”

Beth folds her hands in her lap, giving a nod.

“What about these powers I’ll get on my birthday?” I nervously ask.

Maggie’s eyes glaze, as she stares off to somewhere I can’t see. “I’ll give you a rundown of the basics first. If, after that, you want to learn more, then I’ll be happy to tell you.”

“Okay,” I say, prepared to listen intently.

“We don’t know who the first werewolf was or how he came to have these powers. Even my ancestors whispered about who was first. Some say he’s still alive today. They say he’s wiser than anyone in history and that his powers are greater than all his descendants’ combined. We believe our powers now are fragments of his, broken and disbursed over time.” She says the words with great enthusiasm and great respect.

“How can nobody know who he is? I mean, someone had to know him at some point.”

“Only those in dire need of his help may utter his name,” she says, resting her chin and hands on top of her staff.

“That’s crazy. How can they call him if they don’t know what he goes by?” I snort.

“Don’t mock me, child. It is said by Ancients that you will know what to say at precisely the right time. Some say he speaks to you.”

“So, you’ve never met him?” I squirm in the wooden chair, as the back rungs press into my spine.

“I’ve never had a moment where I need him.” A deep, forced sigh escapes her lips. “Perhaps one day I’ll be honored enough to be in his presence.”

I think of something quick to say to get her out of the loopy daydreams about someone who may or may not exist.

“So it’s true that no one knows what their power will be until it happens?” I ask, interrupting Maggie’s thoughts. Beth remains eerily quiet.

“Correct,” Maggie says, with a swift nod.

“And I won’t necessarily get my powers as soon as I turn eighteen?”

“Some acquire their power when midnight tolls. Others may be late bloomers.”

“What if I don’t know what it is, even after it happens?”

“You’ll know,” is all Maggie says. One eyebrow rises, as if she’s tempting me to second guess her answer. “Anything else?” she asks when I don’t test her.

I shake my head.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ve told you you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You just have to believe in yourself, believe in your family and friends.” Maggie nods for me to agree. When I do, she adds, “You have werewolf blood from both sides, not just one. You’ve also faced your enemies and stood tall, am I correct?” She lifts her eyebrows.

I throw a bit of confusion at her. How does she know about the fight?

Pushing it aside, I respond, “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, child.” She pulls herself out of her chair with great effort, waddling to the sink with her bowl.

“Beth, how does she know—” I whisper.

Her eyes grow. “No,” she says in a hushed tone, warning me.

I want to pursue this conversation further, but I don’t want us to get kicked out. I’m compelled to know answers. My mind reels with questions.

“How do you know about that?” I blurt, twisting around in my chair to view Maggie.

Beth makes an incoherent sound. I know I’ve probably screwed up.

Maggie grumbles, and then says, “Word gets around. Not many people defeat a Conway, let alone one who isn’t yet a werewolf.”

Chapter Eleven

Maggie isn’t as mean and intimidating as Beth makes her out to be, but she still leaves thoughts lingering in my head. Who’s the mysterious Ancient who doesn’t have a name and has powers greater than anyone alive? How does she know so much about this town, when she tries to keep her nose out of its happenings?

After Beth and I get home, Jana picks me up.

“I’ve had the craziest day,” I tell her as soon as I plop down in the passenger seat. “I met this witch doctor woman. She can see stuff without actually seeing it, and she claims there’s some old guy who might be alive, but only aids those who need his help.”

“You’ve met Maggie.” She smiles at me.

“Yeah, you know about her?” My eyebrows meet my hairline.

Her eyes narrow, focusing on the road. “Everyone knows about her. She’s an Ancient.”

“How do you know about Ancients?” I question.

“The whole town pretty much knows about them since she arrived. Generations upon generations who’ve lived here talk about her. She never ages and she stays cooped up in that ratty, old house. It’s kind of weird.” Jana’s nose scrunches.

“Huh.” I can’t think of anything else to say. So, this town really does know werewolves are among them. Living and breathing, real-life werewolves. If everyone is aware of us, why hasn’t word spread? Do the Conways make the ones who know their Followers, and leave the rest to beg for mercy? That has to be it.

Jana pulls me out of my thoughts when she says, “I’ve never met her, though. I heard she deals with magic.” Her eyes light up like fireworks on the fourth of July.

“Don’t we all have a little magic in us from time to time?” I grin.

Jana giggles. “You could say that.”

We pull into the parking lot at the back of Livia’s. I jog to the front door, ready to get out of the arctic air. Jana dilly-dallies like it doesn’t bother her. I don’t see how.

Once inside, I halt. Standing behind the counter is Lily.

“Oh, hey, Candra,” she says.

“Hey,” I reply. A pang of jealousy rips at my stomach lining.

Jana enters the store. “Hey, Lily,” she says, completely oblivious. Nobody knows how I feel about him. I should continue to play it off that way.

“I got the new shipment logged and ready for display,” says Lily. She steps down from the platform behind the counter. She and Jana walk toward the employee’s only area in the back.

I don’t want to follow. Instead, I barely step inside the back area, when I drop off my bag and turn on my heels. The front needs to be watched, anyway.

After their conversation, Jana steps into the customer area of the store. Lily’s right behind her, of course.

“Okay, thanks for helping out today,” Jana says.

“No problem. I’ll see ya later.” Lily turns and her eyes slice into mine. “You’re not the only one who loves him.”

I can’t even reply. How am I supposed to?

After the small bell above the door rings, signaling Lily’s departure, Jana looks at me and says, “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” I mumble.

“Look, whatever it is, I’m sure it can be worked out. She’s a nice girl.”

“I’m sure she is.” I bite the tip of my tongue.

Jana hesitates before saying, “This isn’t about Ben, is it?”

“What? No. Of course not!” But who am I trying to kid? That’s exactly why I can’t stand her. Jana’s right—I don’t know her. I should give her a chance.

Jana’s mouth turns into a devious smile. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

My insides swirl.

“I need some fresh air,” I exclaim, rushing out the door. I have no idea where I’m going. I just need to get away, to stop thinking about how crappy my situation is.

The more I walk, the more my legs burn against the frigid climate. Come to think of it, my lungs burn too. I wrap my arms around each other in hopes it’ll provide some additional warmth. It doesn’t do much.

Crystallized flakes begin to fall from the heavens. I brave the wind that blisters me down to my bones. One hand lying flat, I catch the tiny pieces of glitter. As soon as they touch me, they melt. Down the street, kids dance with joy. Someone drives by, honking, and yells, “Hell yeah! It’s snowing!”

I laugh. This is what I need.

But when I notice a black BMW creeping behind me, my body tingles. This time, it’s not because of the cold weather. I play it off like I don’t notice, but with every few steps I take, the car slinks beside the sidewalk, jumping from parking space to parking space. My nerves scream. Veins in my head pound against my skull. My heart tries to squeeze through my ribcage.

Maybe if I slip into a shop, they’ll disappear. So, that’s what I do. It’s a vintage store. I don’t catch the name. I aim to blend in with some clothing, and stay far enough back from the display window, so whoever’s in the car can’t see me.

A few minutes later, I’m thinking this is a bad idea. Not only does the car not move, but the clothes smell like a combination of cigarettes and musty attic. Gross.

Where’s a cell phone when I need it? Mom and Dad took mine away as part of my punishment. They obviously forgot about emergency situations.

I’ll make a run for it. That’ll work. They won’t have enough time to get out of their car and catch up. I’m a good runner…I think.

“Can I help you?” The cashier’s monotone voice startles me. One eyebrow rises higher than the other and she stares at me like I should be in a different jacket than one I’m wearing—preferably a white one that ties behind my back.

Damn hippie.

“No, I’m good. I have a stalker, and I’m hiding. It’s cool,” I say. That should further her beliefs about my needing a padded cell.

“I can let you out the back door,” she says, motioning to the employee’s only area and giving me one of those wow-this-girl-is-stupid looks.

“Really? That’d be great right about now,” I say.

“Follow me.” She hops off her stool and leads me through the back.

Two guys sit at a table, playing cards and smoking what I’m pretty sure aren’t cigarettes. I’m met by a hazy wall as I pass them. Both wear disgusting brown jackets and their hair is unkempt. Images of a werewolf mafia scroll through my head for a brief second, but I push them aside.

“Through here,” the hippie chick says. She points to a back door with a dimly glowing exit sign above it.

“Thanks,” I say, and manage a smile.

Outside, the snow hammers the sidewalks, rooftops and cars. The door leads me to an alley. I’m not sure exactly which direction to take. I can brave the main walkway and hope my stalker doesn’t see me slip by, or I can stay behind the buildings until I reach Livia’s.

I decide on the path behind the buildings. I don’t want to risk anything.

It takes me forever to find Livia’s. Everything looks so different from the backside. I’m short on breath and my nose feels ablaze and numb at the same time. How is that possible?

“Wow. That must’ve been the longest walk ever!” Jana exclaims when I burst through the door. The bell overhead clinks and Mr. Frost is close on my heels.

Out of breath, I get by with saying, “Yeah, it was.”

“Cold doesn’t do much for your complexion. You look like you’ve been possessed by a ghost.” She frowns, assessing my features.

“No, I don’t,” I mumble.

“Nobody’s come in since you left. I think they’re too busy playing in the snow.” She walks over to the left display window and places her hands firmly on her hips. “There’s a space heater in the back.”

I hurry to find it. My hands might be frostbitten by now and turning into green piles of mush. I’ve got to get some gloves.

While I’m toasting my hands, I think about the BMW. Immediately Cameron crosses my mind. Surely he wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Then again, his family runs this town.

~*~

When I get home later, I want to pass out and forget the weird stuff. I don’t know about this werewolf thing, but, from what I understand, I don’t have much of a choice on the transformation part. Werewolf blood runs through my veins, and trying to escape it won’t help. This isn’t the cops or school. No, I must face this. I have to come to terms with what I am. Only then can I really understand my purpose here.

I pick up the phone and punch a string of numbers on the keypad.

A woman picks up on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom,” I say.

“Baby, is that you?” Her voice is a cross between thrilled and surprised.

“Yeah,” I reply, which escapes my lips as more of a short laugh. I twirl a strand of hair around my finger and situate myself on the bed.

“It seems like it’s been so long since I talked to you. How’s everything—school, friends?” Her words come out in one big rush.

“Mom, slow down.”

“Sorry, I’m a little overjoyed right now.” The last two words increase in volume and I know it’s her tearing up. She clears her throat.

“Everything going good. School is school.” My head bobs from side-to-side.

“Candra…what about those grades?”

“My grades are fine. It’s easier here, believe it or not.”

She begins to say something, but must think better of it.

I continue. “I’ve made a couple of friends.”

“Really? Oh, honey, that’s great! What are their names?”

“Jana and Blake,” I reply. I pick at the aglet on the end of my shoelaces.

“Well, I’m so happy for you. If your father was home, I’m sure he’d love to talk to you. They’ve got him pulling overtime. Can you believe that?”

“That sucks,” I tell her. “Listen, I wanted to say that I know why you guys sent me here.”

My statement is followed by dead air.

Finally, Mom says, “They told you? Already?”

“Yep.”

“They were supposed to wait until closer to your eighteenth birthday. Oh, sweetie, we’re so sorry this happened. We wanted to keep you here, but we aren’t strong enough to contain you. When you got in trouble, we used that as an excuse for sending you away. We didn’t want to do this, but couldn’t see any way around it.”

“It’s not too bad. I mean, it sucks that my own parents couldn’t tell me what I am; they leave long, lost relatives to do the work for them.”

Mom breaks out into one of her full episodes.

I say, “I’m not holding it against you guys, just think it was a crappy way to do things,” before she manages to choke out a few words of her own.

“We love you, baby. We wanted the best for you. Randy and Beth are familiar with transformations and powers. Your father and I—we stopped using ours once we learned we’d have you.”

“You know what really sucks? I’m trapped, waiting to hear this is a sick joke, because I have a rival pack determined to make my life a living Hell, and nobody seems to care.” I’m so upset I can’t even sit on my bed anymore. I pace around the room, and open the window for cool, fresh air.

“I had no idea…” she whispers.

“Well, welcome to my life. This is what you guys threw me into. I have to deal with this until next year. If I’m seriously injured because of

them, I’m blaming you two,” I say, hanging up. For a minute, I stand perfectly still—my hand grasping the phone—and come to terms with everything that transpired. I know my words sting. I know they’ll be upset. But they have every right to know what it’s like for me.

Chapter Twelve

If Beth has talked to Mom in the short time between last night and now, she hasn’t mentioned it to me. I get ready for school, bound down the stairs to open the front door, and immediately stop. A black BMW with tinted windows is parked in our driveway.

The passenger door opens.

“Get in,” a male voice orders.

I hesitate for a second and think about walking to school in the rain and how everyone will laugh at the wet, sloppy mess I’ll be if I don’t take this ride. Then I think about all those child abduction cases, and the kids’ faces pinned to the bulletin boards.

I lower my head, taking a peek inside. The guy behind the wheel is Ben.

For a reason I can’t explain, I know I’ll be okay. I hold my breath and slide into the passenger seat.

Inside, the grey leather smells new, and the shiny, chrome accents gleam around every edge on the dash. I’ve never seen so many knobs and buttons.

He laughs when I shoot him a puzzled look. “What?” he asks.

“You were following me yesterday, weren’t you?” I demand, holding his eyes with my own.

He floors the gas pedal.

“Following? No, just riding around. You should really stop being so paranoid.” His face is full of mockery, as he pretends to scold me.

I want to slap him.

“I’m not paranoid. I know a stalker when I see one, Ben Conway. Why are you picking me up for school? Since when do we hang out?”

He locks the brakes, slinging me forward. My head almost hits the dash, but luck has it I remembered to wear my seatbelt.

“Are you crazy?”

“I’m not a stalker, just a nice guy who recalled one of his classmates didn’t have a car to drive to school. Personally, I think it would suck to walk in the rain, but if you prefer, you can get out now.”

My mouth drops.

Although I should get out of the car and tell him where to go, something in me says that for once in my life I need to keep my mouth shut. Plus, walking in the rain is something I definitely don’t want to do.

“Okay, then,” he says, taking my silence as affirmation that I need a ride to school. He accelerates down the driveway.

We ride in silence the entire way.

Ben and I walk side-by-side in the frigid climate to the front doors, completely uncommunicative. A few stragglers hanging out eye us. I know, by the end of the day, we’ll be the talk of the town.

I can see it now: Extra! Extra! Read all about it! The real life enemies make amends! or something to that effect in the school newspaper.

It’s not until we reach the inside and make our way down the hall that Ben speaks.

“See you in English,” is all he says. He continues walking to his first class without even so much as a glance toward me.

“What was all that about?” Jana asks when I reach my locker. One eyebrow lifts higher than the other.

“Honestly, I have no idea. He showed up at my doorstep this morning, waiting for me.” I shrug.

“Just be careful, okay?”

I jerk my head around. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m trying to look out for you. He’s a heartbreaker, ya know.” She doesn’t wait for my response, not that I have one. Instead, she struts down the hallway and disappears around the corner.

I’m left mulling over our conversation. Part of me wants to listen to everyone about staying away from him. The other part of me wonders if this conflict between our families can be left in the past. I don’t know which to trust—my head or my heart.

Chapter Thirteen

The next day, the same thing happens. Ben picks me up for school. Will this be an everyday occurrence? I can’t help the tug in my stomach every time our eyes meet.

“I didn’t expect you to be here again today,” I tell him while sliding into the passenger seat.

He tosses me a grin that makes my body feel like Jell-O.

“I enjoyed the ride yesterday. Plus, I still feel sorry for you, since you don’t have a car. I mean, most kids our age do.” He playfully nudges my arm. As soon as he makes contact, a jolt of power runs through my body.

He feels it too.

“What was that?” I whisper, unable to believe what just happened. Static electricity. Yes, that has to be the explanation.

“I have no idea,” he says, turning around to face the windshield.

“Do you think it’s static?”

He considers this for a minute before nodding and saying, “Yeah, sure. That could be it.”

I nod. “Okay.”

He slowly turns back to the steering wheel, gulping loudly, and we accelerate down the driveway. I keep thinking, Static, static, static, but I know better. Static doesn’t affect your entire body. Real electricity does.

After we get to school, I turn the corner and notice Jana and Blake waiting at my locker. They send me cruel glares, and I’m positive they hate Ben.

“See you in five minutes,” Ben whispers in my ear. He continues his trek down the hall and disappears amid the sea of students.

“Candra, what’s going on?” Jana asks in a very serious tone. “You know you shouldn’t be with him. Your family and his family don’t get along. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“So let them talk,” I say, opening my locker and grabbing my English book. “Our families may hate each other, but it doesn’t mean Ben and I do. Besides, he’s really sweet. I haven’t had a guy treat me like that in God-knows-how-long.”

Jana glances over her shoulder at Blake. He chews on the inside of his cheek, glaring at me, and then looks away, shaking his head.

“What?” I blurt.

“Nothing. You’ll find out,” he replies. “C’mon.” He laces his fingers with Jana’s and steers her away from me.

“I don’t get it,” I mumble, now standing alone in the hallway.

In English, Ben pulls my desk closer to his. He doesn’t seem to care what everyone else thinks, either. Not even Mr. Everett.

“You know, just in case I need to cheat or something,” he says, winking at me.

“Yeah, because I’m totally writing something down right now.” I’m not.

His mouth curves into a playful grin. “Listen to you smarting off to your ride home from school.”

I feel my cheeks heat up and instinctively duck my head. I’ll do anything for that smile. It never fails to remove whatever thought is on my mind.

“You’re right. I should be much nicer. So, when should I get on the floor and clean your shoes? Or maybe I should iron your shirts every morning,” I tease.

He leans into the crook of his desk, facing me. “Are you suggesting you’d like to live with me?”

“What?!” I squeak, receiving a few glares from students and Mr. Everett.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Lowell?” Mr. Everett asks.

I shake my head. “No, there’s no problem.”

“Good. Then you can begin reading where we left off,” he says.

My face burns. I have no idea what we’re reading, who’s reading it, or where we left off. Hushed giggles escape mouths across the classroom.

“I honestly have no idea where we’re at,” I say.

“Ms. Lowell,” Mr. Everett begins, staring down at some papers on his desk, “might I remind you that there’s no talking in class and that I expect you to pay attention? Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place—because you were in trouble back home?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business what happened to her prior to arriving here,” Ben tells Mr. Everett.

I wish I had a camera, because the look on Mr. Everett’s face is priceless. Instead of sending Ben to the principal’s office or giving him an extra assignment, they have a showdown with their eyes.

Ben wins.

Mr. Everett clears his throat and pretends to shuffle a few papers around on his desk. “You’re right. It’s none of my business.” He turns around to the board.

“How’d you do that?” I whisper.

Ben cuts me a sideways glance and the corner of his lips slightly curves. “I’m just good like that, I guess.”

“Huh.” It comes out as more of a huff, but I’m sure he heard me. I fall back against my seat, paying attention to Mr. Everett this time. After all, he’s right. I’m here to stay out of trouble, and to keep my grades from slipping. The bad part? Now that I have new friends and Ben, I don’t miss home as much. Pathetic, I know.

The bell rings and Ben stands, saying, “See you after school.”

Sitting with Jana and Blake at lunch is the worst part of the day. Both avoid any eye contact, and neither say one word to me, like I’m invisible. It’s not like I have anyone else to sit with either. Ben has a totally different lunch schedule than me. It’d be much easier to carry on a conversation with him right now.

At the end of the day, I stand at my usual spot near the building, and away from the curb. My eyes stretch, searching for his BMW.

“Please don’t tell me you’re riding home with him again.” Jana’s voice startles me.

“Uh, actually I am. Why?”

“This is wrong. So very, very wrong. You have no idea what you’re getting into, Candra. Please don’t do this.” The expression on her face grabs hold of my stomach and twists it into a pretzel. She’s pained, concerned. Is Ben really that bad?

“He’s not like them,” I say. This is getting out of hand. How many times do I have to tell someone that it doesn’t matter what our families think, as long as we have fun together?

But then I wonder if that’s the same as living a lie.

Jana throws her arms around my neck in a sudden hug. “Just be careful, okay?”

I nod, still unsure of what the big deal is. So his brothers want to bully me, and we’re both stuck in the middle of this stupid family feud. Who cares? If we choose to live a different life, then so be it.

Ben pulls his car next to the curb. I run over and open the door.

“Miss me?” he jokes. His head lowers, so he glances at me through his long, black lashes.

“Ugh. I never thought today would end,” I groan, getting in his car. Immediately his earthy cologne fills my nostrils; it’s musky and thick and I could inhale it all day.

“Why’s that?” He moves the gears into drive. One hand clutches the steering wheel, the other rests on top of the shifter. We creep through the ocean of students in the parking lot.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I get to see you.” My chest feels like an elephant’s sitting on it. Why’s it so hard to tell him?

Ben gives me a quick glance, and the corner of his mouth twists. He doesn’t say much on the way home, adjusting the radio so it plays some mellow rock music. As we pull into my driveway, he slows to a stop.

I shoot him a confused look.  “What’s wrong?”

“You know we’re just friends, right?” he asks.

I know what those words mean. He doesn’t want anything further with me. It’s okay to date Lily, the bottled-blonde ditz who worries about shopping and her looks more than life itself.

But, to play along in what might be the sorriest excuse known to man, I say, “Oh, yeah, of course. You didn’t think…I mean, because of what I said…” What did I say again? I fake a laugh.

He smiles, rubbing his fingers along the two-day old whiskers surfacing on his chin. “I just wanted to be clear.” But his face drops, like it bothers him to tell me that we’re mere friends. He pushes the gas, and we coast down the driveway, pulling up directly outside the front to let me out.

“See ya later,” I say, opening the door.

“Candra, wait.” He grabs my arm before I have time to get out. “There’s this stupid festival going on this weekend.”

I assess what he says. Two minutes ago he informs me we’re friends, and now he’s asking me to a festival?

“What about it?” I ask.

“I wondered if you might be interested in going with me.”

My head barely shakes. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for the ride.” I manage a smile, but as soon as my back is turned, it fades away.

Chapter Fourteen

As soon as I step foot in the house, the phone rings. Odd, I think, since nobody calls unless Randy and Beth are home. I decide to answer it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Oh my God. Is it really you? Hey, stranger.”

It’s Layla.

Joy doesn’t describe how many butterflies flap their wings inside my stomach right now. “What… How…” I pull up a chair and sit by the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I got this number from your mom. Ran into her at the grocery store. She said you’re making a name for yourself up there.”

You have no idea.

“Yeah, things are…different here. That’s for sure. But tell me what’s going on back home. I have to know everything.”

“Well, Casey Birmingham totally got a boob job. And, let’s see, oh! Joe Palicki totally got caught jerkin’ off in the locker room. It’s all over school.” If there’s one thing I could tell anyone about Layla, it’s that she loves gossip.

“What about you and Sean? How are you guys?”

“Oh, pssh! Don’t worry about us. We’re the same old Layla and Sean, ya know? Sean got a job at Judd’s Meat Market over on
Sansaren Highway
. Remember that place?” She makes a gagging noise.

“How could I forget? You can smell it if you’re in a three mile radius of the place.”

“I know, right? I told Sean to stay away from me until he’s had a shower.”

I laugh at the thought of Sean wearing an apron covered in meat scraps, and rubbing them all over Layla.

She clears her throat. “Listen, I can’t stay on here for long. Mom’s already yelling at me.”

“Still upset about the trespassing crap?”

“Yeah, that and we spent the night in a barred cell.” She giggles. “Maybe Sean and I can come up and visit sometime.”

“I’d love that! When do you think you two could get up here?”

“Don’t know. I’d have to ask Mom. But check with your aunt and uncle first. I’m sure we could come up there soon.”

On my end, I’m totally jumping up and down in the kitchen. I’m glad no one can see me right now. I restrain a squeal and put my head on straight.

“Dude, this is going to be awesome. I can’t wait.”

“Me neither. Call ya later?”

“Sounds good.”

“’Kay. See ya.”

“Bye.”

As soon as I place the phone on its charger, I hear the front door creak. Stepping into the hallway, I see Beth pulling her keys out of the lock.

“You’re home early,” I say. “Hey, I need to talk to you. Just got off the phone with a friend from back home. Turns out—”

She interjects, “Since when do you hang out with Benjamin Conway?”

Uh-oh.

“I told you he’s nice to me. He’s taken me to and from school two days in a row now.”

Beth points at me. “Under my roof, you are forbidden to see him.”

The color drains from my face. It’s like she made a fist and punched me in the gut.

“I mean it,” she continues. “I’ve told you they’re nothing but trouble.”

“But he hasn’t—”

“Done anything? No, not yet, I imagine. He’s using you. There’s something you have that he wants, and he won’t stop until he has it.” She spaces out, somewhere I can’t see, like she’s in deep thought.

My chin quivers, and no matter how hard I try to stop it from shaking, it won’t quit. I feel like I’m in one of my weird ass dreams, and the world kind of swirls around me, making me light-headed.

“I hate doing this to you. I feel like the bad guy, instead of them,” she say, the corner of her eyes droop down in a sad expression.

I can’t say anything. My mind’s numb, along with the rest of my body. I can’t even move. Everything’s been going so well. For once I think I’m doing something right, for it to feel this good.

But I’m wrong. All of it’s wrong. We were born enemies, and we might as well die as enemies. Nothing will change that.

Beth’s at my side within a fraction of a second, cocooning me in her arms.

“I’m so sorry. I know you care about him—I can see it in your eyes.” She props her chin on my head and lets out a sigh. “There are many things that happen in life that we can’t explain. Some good, some bad. But of one thing I’m certain—in the end, it all works out.”

I barely nod, still having absolutely no idea what she means. I’ve never been one to follow any rules. That’s what caused me to be sent here in the first place. What’s stopping me now?

“Here,” she begins, steering me into my bedroom, “lay down, and I’ll bring you up some dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” I whisper, trying to hold back the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.

Beth doesn’t say anything. She grabs a blanket from the end of my bed and throws it over me, tucking me in. I’m too busy drifting off into la-la land.

I stand in the middle of an open field—much like the one beside the house. The man stands ahead, his looming presence even worse in the fog. I can hardly see anything. I turn and run, but end up in a corn field. The stalks are at least ten feet high. There’s no way out.

I don’t know how he can run so quickly, but he catches up. His breath is hot against my neck. He doesn’t stop me, though. He lets me run.

Wind whistles through the tips of the corn stalks, all of them pointing in the same direction. I can feel him right behind me; it’s the same feeling as knowing something’s in the room with you, though you can’t see it. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

Kicking up more dirt, I run harder, faster. My legs blaze. My lungs strain for air that doesn’t come. The stalks bend more, and I think they’re pointing me toward an exit. I follow without reason.

Stupid corn.

Stupid trees.

Nobody ever points to the way out, just more silly ways to get me hunted by this crazed stalker. But right now, I don’t have much of a choice. There’s no way of knowing what he might do if he catches me.

I sneak a glance over my shoulder.

He’s gone. I don’t hear his rhythmic breathing anymore, either.

“This way,” some low, guttural voice lures up ahead. I definitely don’t want to follow, but I can’t stop my body. I’m being forced.

Besides, it’s not the same voice I’ve heard before. This one’s deeper, more menacing—a complete one-eighty from the last. An icy chill barrels down my spine.

Trees howl in the distance. Their voices drift upward, carried by the wind.

Then I realize it’s not the trees howling…

I wake up and stagger to my window. The eyes aren’t there, though. Sighing with relief and frustration, I flip the latch and open the pane for fresh air. As much as I hate the cold, tonight is different. It’s a stark reminder that I’m alive, even if I do have haunting dreams. Nature has its own way of telling me my nightmares are fictitious, as if the words it’s just a dream are riding on the edge of the breeze.

The damp atmosphere sends a draft into my room, and I close my eyes. I have no idea what these dreams mean, but for the first time in awhile, I know they’re not just coincidence.

I have to do something. Let someone know. I can’t keep running from my problems. The longer I wait, the harder it’ll be.

Fleetingly, I wonder if Jana’s up. With all this commotion about staying away from Ben, and her and Blake judging me, there must be something I’m missing.

“Hello?” She answers on the second ring.

I walk in circles in the middle of my room. The cordless phone is fixed between my ear and my shoulder. “Hey, it’s Candra.”

“Oh, hi,” she says, not sounding the least bit thrilled.

I blow excess air out of my mouth, hoping it’ll relieve some butterflies. “I need to ask you something.”

She hesitates, then says, “Go for it.”

“That night, at the movies, you said something about Ben marking me.” I pause, tilting my head toward the ceiling, trying to gain a little bit of courage. “I know I asked you about it the next day, but you never clarified. Actually, you kind of blew me off by saying it was just a joke, which I totally didn’t believe for a second.”

Jana remains silent.

I continue. “What did you mean?”

She nervously laughs. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just that you were marked as his or something. I don’t know. Sounds stupid, right?”

She’s lying. I’d place money on it. “Right. So, that’s why you and Blake left me high and dry? That’s why both of you gave me evil glares? Doesn’t make sense, Jana.” Okay, the more I think about it, the angrier I get.

Seconds roll by before she asks, “How much do you know, exactly?”

I frown. “Know what?”

“I’m afraid if I tell you, I’ll say too much. So, let’s start with the basics. How much has your family told you about this town, about you?”

She doesn’t have to ask me again; I know what she’s hinting at. This town is full of surprises, especially the one about werewolves being alive and well. I’m sure not everyone knows, but those who do have chosen their side.

“I know too much, I think. Things…aren’t what they seem around here,” I say with uncertainty. How much would be too much when explaining things to her?

“So, you know. It’s not an everyday occurrence to hear about werewolves around here, Candra, as crazy as that sounds. Not everyone knows.” She forces a sigh out. “When I said that, I didn’t think you’d take it literally. Ben’s kind, but they’re not the nicest people. I only wanted to look out for you. You have to believe me.”

I huff, “Yeah, seems like everyone is telling me to stay away from him.”

“Well, you should listen to us. We’ve lived here longer than you. We know how they are. I know about the sides, too. Basically, Blake and I aren’t among the Conway Followers. We try to avoid them at all costs. You can’t. You were born into this war, Candra,” she says.

“So I’ve been told…”

“And when I mentioned you being marked, well, it could mean a couple of things. Either he does want to be with you, or he wants something from you. I don’t know which one.”

For once, I want to trust someone. I want to push their ideas and theories into the core of my soul and flush them through my body, believe everything they’ve told me. I don’t want to be in the center of this battle. Not once did I ask for this.

“I believe you,” is all I tell her before hanging up the phone.

Chapter Fifteen

If my parents knew about this battle, why’d they send me here? I can’t picture them throwing their only child into the middle of a battle without weapons or an army behind her.

There are only two people who can answer this question for me—Randy and Beth. One happens to be home now.

“Beth?” I call, bounding down the stairs.

“In here!” she yells from the living room. I find her sitting on the couch with a worn book in hand.

I tilt my head to read the spine. Gold flecks once made up letters, words. Now there’s nothing left.

“What are you reading?” I ask.

“Shakespeare. He’s one of my favorites. It took me decades to understand the meaning of his lines, but once I learned, I couldn’t put him down.” Her eyes twinkle under the light of her reading lamp. She gently closes the book, as if it might crumble with any extra stress, and lays it on her lap.

“I need to ask you something.” I suddenly feel stupid for wanting to know why I can’t see Ben. But, instead of asking about him, I blurt, “Why did my parents send me here, if they knew about the battle between our families?”

Beth places her book on the end table. She sits up, hands in her lap, and says, “Because they don’t know the extent of it, how bad it’s gotten.”

I fall into the recliner. “How can they not know?”

She inhales sharply. “Well, because I’ve never told them. I never thought they needed to know. It began many years ago, but the Conways kept their distance. They weren’t as much of a threat…until you arrived.”

My gaze lowers to my hands, which are doing absolutely nothing in my lap. “I’m the one who stirred up old dust.”

I don’t get it. Sure, they want me gone. Does it have to be like this? What if I can change it? I know what I have to do, and it involves speaking to Ben. I’m not sure he’ll even listen to me, though. He is, after all, a Conway.

“Technically, yes. But is it your fault? No. We’ve known for a very long time it would come to this. Not only do they want your power, but they want to get rid of you. They just can’t figure out how. You’re protected by others, and you don’t even know it.” Her lips curve.

“Like who?” I press.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“Oh, c’mon. This town is full of surprises and secrets. You could at least tell me who these people are. I’d like to meet them,” I say, crossing my legs. This just got interesting.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’d know who they are. They’re called Watchers, ghosts to you. They have specific orders to relay anything that happens to you to me and Randy. If you’re in danger, they’re there to help.” Her expression changes from day to night—total seriousness to being worried.

Leaning my cheek into my palm, I ask, “How does that work?”

“We can communicate through images and thoughts, without having to transform,” she replies. “Once they pledge their loyalty to us, they are gifted with the ability to speak as we do.”

“That’s awesome.” I’m almost speechless.

Almost.

“So, how does the whole Watcher, Follower thing work? I mean, I know the Conways pretty much force their people into choosing life or death.”

“They do. Once a human learns what they are, they’re either killed or picked to be a Follower. I don’t know how the Conways choose another person’s fate.” She glances toward the carpet, deep in thought, but is quick to add, “We don’t do that—make them choose. Our Watchers help on their own accord.”

I nod. “That’s good.”

When Beth doesn’t respond, I ask, “So, will I be able to do that?” Questions zigzag through my brain, waiting their turn to be asked.

“Do what?”

“Communicate with Watchers.”

“Well, of course you will. We all have that ability, but you won’t obtain it until your birthday,” she explains. “Whatever you do, Candra, don’t lose that locket.” She nods to the metal heart lying on my chest.

I shake my head. “I won’t. Promise.”

She carefully lifts Shakespeare off the end table.

“Wait,” I say. There’s one more pressing question I have to ask. “What if I can change everything?”

Beth’s eyes scrunch into a questioning look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What if I can stop this?”

“Candra, don’t you think we’ve tried everything by now?” She releases a short sigh. “We’ve tried to be peacemakers, but they won’t give until we do.”

“I can talk to Ben,” I say, hoping my words might mean something.

But Beth’s already moving her head, disagreeing with me. “No, I can’t let you see him anymore. This is for your own protection. I can’t emphasize how important you are—to us, and your parents. It simply won’t work.”

“I haven’t tried yet,” I mumble. Adrenaline races through my bloodstream, swirling into every open port of my body. Is it the idea that I’m forbidden to see him, or the idea that each time I’m with him may be my last?

Chapter Sixteen

I’ve never been to Maggie’s alone—only just that once with Beth. Am I scared? A little. I don’t know what her visitor policy is like, but I guess I’ll find out.

I fibbed earlier. I told Beth I might work today, when I knew I wasn’t. I can’t exactly come out and say, “Oh, I meant to tell you—I’m going to visit Maggie. Hope she doesn’t mind.” Yeah, right. Beth will never in a million years fall for that one. She’ll keep me locked in my room until I graduate. I can picture it now: Me seeing the crazy eyes outside my window. My nightmares returning. Maybe even going without food until Beth gets over her grudge and feeds me something.

So, I have to stick to the plan. I have to do this alone, and cautiously. Maggie seemed like a nice lady when I met her. She’ll remember me. There shouldn’t be a reason she denies my company.

The only reason I’m doing is to see if she can clear things up for me. Beth’s explained a lot, but there’s still something I want to know, one question Beth told me is impossible. My gut nags me to believe otherwise.

Outside, the brittle air clings to my exposed skin—around my neck, my face, and my hands. Leaves skirt the bottom of trees, and only move when the wind passes through. The sky’s a hazy grey. Clouds slowly pass overhead.

I bury my hands in my pockets and my face in my jacket; I have it zipped as far as the zipper will let me. The trip isn’t long by car, but by foot is a different story. It’ll take me at least twenty minutes to get there.

Inside, I’m a wreck. What if she tells me to get lost? I mean, she seems powerful with her voodoo ways or whatever. What if she calls Beth and tells her I stopped by? This might be a mistake, but she also might be the only person I can talk to right now—the only person who will understand what’s going on and know how I can stop this mess.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later I arrive at her Godforsaken house. The decrepit place still looks like a T-Rex shit on it.

I hesitate before walking up the dirt driveway, if you want to call it that. She doesn’t even own a car from the looks of things. But then, she doesn’t really need one. I guess being a werewolf has its perks.

I make progress, trekking up to her front porch. Dried herbs hang from the rafters. I push a couple out of the way just to get to the door. Before I can knock, Maggie greets me.

Her face is rigid, her eyes tired. “Well, what’re you doing just standing there looking dumb?” she asks, then turns around and disappears into the house.

I step inside. Barely. “How’d—how’d you know I was here?”

“You’re too loud,” she grumbles from the kitchen.

I shut the door behind me. “Too loud?” I repeat.

She nods in an almost sarcastic manner. “Yes, that’s what I said. Are you deaf now?”

This woman seriously has some nerve. I should turn around and walk out, but I came here to get an answer, and I’m not leaving until I get one.

Maggie pivots around to the countertop and ties dried flowers together. A bow is perfectly bound at the center when she finishes.

“I wondered if you could, maybe, help me,” I say.

She gripes almost inaudibly. I stand there, too nervous to budge. The house freaks me out. Hell, she freaks me out.

“Well, speak up, girl. What is it that you want?” Her back still faces me as she sets aside the flowers and begins working on herbs.

“Can I…” I begin to speak, but the words clog my throat. I’ve been over this in my head, and it seemed so easy. This is different. This is the real deal.

“Ey?” She turns around and glares at me. “Spit it out.”

“Can I ask you something?”

She drops her herbs on the counter, like she’s frustrated with me. “What have I stood here and told you for the last five minutes? Get on with it. If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then say it.”

I bite back the urge to say something totally uncalled for. But, if I lived by myself, I’d probably be bitter too.

“Is there a way to stop this?” I cringe, waiting for her to bark at me.

She turns around, working on gathering her dead plants into an arrangement. For a minute or so, she doesn’t answer me. I contemplate leaving, but she finally decides to respond.

“I’m afraid not.” She sighs loudly, and shifts her body to face me. “Those Conways are in deeper than they bargained for. Granted, a few have tried” –-her eyes bore into mine— “…and failed. There’s nothing you can do that can help.”

I nod, realizing my trip here is a lost cause. Just like this whole battle between our families, our packs.

“There’s got to be something…” I trail off, having absolutely no idea where I’m going with this. If Maggie says it can’t be done, then it can’t. She an Ancient. Who am I to question her?

I dig my hands further into my pockets, realizing there’s a chill creeping in around the door sill. Or maybe it’s one of the windows. Either way, it doesn’t ease my tension.

“Nothing, child. Nothing can be done. They’re working with instruments beyond your control.”

“Instruments? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like this.” She runs her hand over the faded green ribbon roll, and then a bushel of her dried flowers and herbs. Resembling something out of a magic show, they hang in the air, as if a string pulls them along. Only, Maggie’s the one guiding them.

I feel my face lose blood. There’s no way she can do that. There’s nothing that can make me believe otherwise. It’s a hoax. Has to be.

“How—how’s that even possible? It’s like—” Dare I say the word? “—magic.”

Maggie snorts. Except her snorting sounds more like a grumpy person with a cold. Well, she is cranky.

“Child, there are things of this world that you have yet to experience. Some are good. Some are evil. Those who have this…this…power, if you will, also have the ability to choose which side they use it for. There are only two.” For the first time since I’ve known the woman, a lazy grin creeps across her face, vividly showing her yellow teeth.

Freaky old lady.

“So you’re saying that people are born with this gift?”

She shakes her head. “No, no. What I’m saying is that they can learn this talent. Nothing is that easy.”

“Anybody can learn magic?” I’m in a state of shock. First there are werewolves, and I happen to be one of them. Then there’s the deal with unique powers that I’ll gain on my eighteenth birthday. Now she’s standing there telling me magic exists too. This is all too much. I massage the sides of my forehead, concentrating, taking her words in.

“If they are up to the challenge, yes.”

I frown, and decide to take a seat at the table. “How’s magic a challenge?”

“Anything’s a challenge when you’re not used to it. Just like the power you’ll receive will be a challenge. You have to learn to control it. You can’t just prance about” –-she waves her hands in the air— “and pretend like you know what you’re doing. No, you have to be able to make sure it stays within your reach at all times.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” I lean against the back of my chair, as if I can absorb her words the closer I am.

“Time.” She shrugs. “That’s all it takes.”

“But you said people have to pick what they use magic for, so they pick sides?”

“Yes,” she grunts. “Good and evil. Always good and evil.”

“This is insane.” I exhale a long-winded sigh.

“Insane or not, it’s the reality of our world.”

I prop my chin on top of the chair. “Does this mean all werewolves use magic?”

“No. Only those who want to. It’s a choice, not a gift.”

Suddenly, I feel giddy. I perk up, sitting straight in my chair. “What if I wanted to learn? Can you teach me?”

Maggie flails her arms into the air. “Absolutely not. You have enough on your plate as it is.”

“There’s got to be another way,” I mumble, feeling my happiness drain from my body.

Calmly, she says, “There are several ways. None of which I want you to seek out.”

Yeah. Big problem right there. Don’t tell me not to do something. I’ll do it. I swear I will.

I decide to play coy. “Mmhmm. Like what?”

“Oh, no, no, no. I’m not falling for that.”

“Ah, c’mon, Maggie.” I stomp my foot. “I’m new to this stuff. How am I ever going to learn anything if everyone hides it from me?” I whine. She watches me for a few seconds. I try my best to look pitiful. No clue if it’s working or not.

The look on her face tells me she’s contemplating something. I just don’t know what it is.

She purses her lips then asks, “Have you heard of Night Sky Books?”

I shake my head, puzzled. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Mmm,” is all she says—whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Then it hits me like a flying sack of two by fours. “Whoa, wait. Was that my clue?”

She continues on like our conversation never happened, like I’m not sitting right there in the same room as her. That is my clue.

I stand from the table and scoot the chair back in its place. Even if she is a harsh old woman, I have to admire her. She has guts. She doesn’t take sides, like Beth said, yet she clearly just helped me. I have no clue where Night Sky Books is located, but I have a feeling someone in this town will know.

“Thanks, Maggie,” I say, and leave the house as if I was never there.

Chapter Seventeen

After my visit with Maggie, I want to know where the book store is located. But I don’t want it to be obvious that I’m searching for it. What if it’s one of those places that I’d be forbidden to visit? What if it’s a freak show? I don’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of weirdoes in capes and pointy hats.

I have the bright idea to look in the yellow pages, which isn’t a total loss. I do find the listing, it just doesn’t have an address—only a phone number.

The only real solution I can come up with is this: To know more concerning what I’m dealing with, I have to think like what I’m dealing with. If there are some out there who possess the skill to use magic, and I face them empty-handed… Well, I don’t want to think about it; it could be disastrous.

I pick up the phone and dial the set of numbers. My finger stays directly below the listing, so I won’t lose my place.

The receiving end stops ringing, and a gurgled cough follows. “Ni-Night Sky Books. Can I help you?” A woman’s voice wheezes out each word.

“Yeah, hi, um, I’m trying to get your address.” Okay, so I sound like a total loser.

She chuckles through phlegm. “Afraid I can’t give that away, dearest.”

Weird. “Why not?”

“Bad part of town. You sound too young to be here. Just stick to the library.”

“But I don’t want to go to the library. I want to visit your store. Now, are you going to tell me where you’re located or do I have to find you myself?”

Her voice lowers to a whisper. “
153 Southwest Tails Drive
. But you didn’t hear that from me.” She hangs up.

I stare at the phone briefly, then decide I’d better scribble down the address before I forget. Good thing Beth and Randy aren’t here. Beth would be all over my ass about where I’m going—yet another reason why I’m happy to have a job, even if I haven’t worked in a few days.

Speaking of which, I’m surprised Jana hasn’t stopped by to check on me or call me into work. Maybe Lily has picked up extra hours. I have bigger problems on my plate, though. Like my freaky dreams. They didn’t start until I got here, so they must be a direct result of someone or something who wants me out of this town for good. But who? The only people I know of who want me gone, even dead, are the Conways. Would they stoop so low as to use magic against me?

I’ll think about it later. I need to finish this. I have to learn as much as I can about magic, including the bad stuff.

I wiggle my mouse, and the computer wakes up. Hastily, I search for directions to this place. It’s located near Hartford. How am I supposed to get there? By foot? I can’t exactly tell anybody that I’m going there, either.

I don’t really have a choice. I have to suck it up and make the trek.

~*~

An hour later and I’m standing outside of a tattered building, where the paint has faded to a maroon color and crumbled off the exterior.

“This can’t be right,” I mumble, pulling the folded piece of paper from my jean pocket and re-reading the directions.

According to them, this is it. This is the place.

“Whatever,” I say aloud, and walk toward the heavy metal doors painted with graffiti. I knock twice. Nothing happens. I raise my hand to knock again when I hear conversations taking place. My ears guide me to an alley next to the building. I don’t see anyone, but they’re there. Somewhere.

Continuing down broken concrete steps, the noises become louder. My right hand uses the brick wall for support. I ease one foot in front of the other. Where are they? To my left, the wall is indented, and a door stands open. Peeking inside, I see now where the commotion is coming from.

Several people dressed in an array of outfits—none of which are modern—are absorbed with shelves upon shelves of books. Their clothing reminds me of a cult with long capes and hoods. The women are wearing lacey corsets that tie up the front, and the men have on some sort of masks—Phantom of the Opera style.

I can’t move. It’s intriguing and frightening at the same time.

And any one of them can turn me into a toad.

Okay, don’t be stupid. They won’t hurt you if you don’t pay them any attention.

So, I grow some balls and step inside the place. Cautiously, of course. All eyes are on me; I can feel them branding my face, my skin. I don’t look at anyone, just run my fingers over book spines to pretend I’m totally interested. I’m hoping and praying it works, that it’s enough to convince myself and these people.

“You look lost,” a seductive male voice says.

I don’t meet his eyes, but continue to act like I’m searching for something. In reality, my heart feels like it’s about to pound up my throat and squeeze its way out my ears. “No, I’m fine,” I say.

“Are you sure?” He whispers, “A girl like you shouldn’t be here, you know.”

That’s when I actually look at him, see his face. His hair is in wispy, brown layers to his shoulders, and his eyes are the color of a dandelion.

I try to break my trance, but I’ve never seen eyes like his—except in the forest.

“Are you, uh,” I pause and glance around the store, “one of them?”

“One of the members of the Black Label?”

I snort. “Is that what they’re called?”

He nods. “Yeah, that’s them. Very genuine stuff. But no, I’m not in their circle.”

“Oh,” I blurt a little too quickly. “So whose circle are you in?”

A smile slowly makes its way across his face. “Mine.”

Slightly embarrassed that I keep staring, I turn around to toy with the books again. I ask, “What’s your name?”

But he doesn’t reply.

When I glance behind me, he’s not there. I frantically search the store, but don’t see him. How can someone tell me not to be here, and then just vanish on his own?

He stood here and told me he wasn’t a part of the Black Latex, or whatever they’re called. His own circle? Does that mean he worries only about himself? What a weirdo.

I might as well continue searching for helpful books since I’m here. My fingers stop on one named Help for Beginners: Black Magic. I place it in my other arm. The next book I find is Magic 101: The Only Guide You’ll Ever Need. I’m not sure if I should keep looking. I can always come back to this freak show.

Two familiar voices turn me to stone.

Cameron and Ethan.

“When’s this meeting supposed to start, bro?” Ethan asks.

“Sshh,” Cameron warns. “Keep quiet, dumbass, or you’ll get us kicked out before it even begins.”

Ethan mumbles, “Sorry.”

I huddle as close to the bookshelf as I possibly can. I don’t want their army to come after me. Was that why everyone gave me cold stares? Do they know who I am? More importantly, what the hell are Cameron and Ethan talking about?

After waiting until they disappear into a back room, I quickly pay for the books and get out of there. I’m tired of their sinister eyes staring at me. It’s like they can see under my clothes or something.

I’m too busy staring at the busted concrete steps, making sure I don’t fall on my face, to notice that I’m walking directly into people.

“Oh, I’m so—” I freeze. Shit.

“Candra? What are you doing here?” Jana asks.

I fold my arms across my chest. “I could ask you two the same thing. But, since you asked first, I’ll just tell you that I came here to buy a few books.”

“Listen, you shouldn’t be here alone.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, so I’ve been told. Listen, I’ve got to get home before it gets dark.” Staring up at the sky, I realize I don’t have much time before the sun goes down. I definitely don’t want to be stuck here with the freaks after dark.

“Oh my God. You walked here? Have you completely lost it?” Jana asks.

“Not yet, but I’m close.”

“C’mon. We’re taking you home,” she says, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the street ahead.

The entire ride home she and Blake don’t speak. It’s like they’re pissed at me. At me of all people. Like I don’t have a complete say-so in where I go and what I do. Some friends.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, hopping out of the backseat before Blake makes a complete stop.

“Candra, wait.” Jana jumps out behind me. “Look, the best place for you to be right now is at home, not in a bad area such as Night Sky Books.”

“So it’s okay for you two to go there, but not me? Don’t be a hypocrite,” I huff, and spin around to open the front door.

“We’re only trying to help. I won’t go there unless Blake goes with me.”

“How sweet. So, tell me, why were you two there? I mean, I have a good reason. Do you?”

Jana’s eyes water. “Candra, don’t do this. We can’t—we’ve been told to keep quiet for now.”

I frown. “About what?”

“Stuff that’s happening. Okay, this was a bad idea. I’ve said too much already. I’ve got to go.”

I practically leap after her. “Jana, stop—” I grip her arm as she opens the passenger door.

“Candra, don’t make me do this. I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. Not yet.”

I stare into her eyes for a few moments. She’s torn. Entirely torn. Between what? I don’t know, but I aim to find out.

I release her from my death hold. She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes me into a hug.

“One day I’ll be able to tell you,” she whispers in my ear.

Chapter Eighteen

Like clockwork, Ben arrives to pick me up the next morning for school. Randy and Beth already left for work, so I don’t have to worry about them going into werewolf mode and ripping Ben to pieces. I want to tell him about last night’s conversation between Beth and me. I want to tell him we can end this, together. But I don’t. Instead, we don’t say much. I find his presence comforting. I’ve gone through too much lately to have him jibber-jabber and ask me about my problems.

When we’re almost at school, I ask, “So, where’s this festival at?” I haven’t really thought about it since yesterday.

“Oh, um,” Ben stammers, “you’ll see.”

I grit my teeth. “There’s not a festival, is there?” I don’t even glance toward him. My eyes pierce the road. I should’ve seen right through him the first time he mentioned a stupid festival. Who goes to a festival anyway?

His head teeters back and forth. “Like I said—you’ll see.”

“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” I say, shaking my head. “Why would you invite me to a festival when you know damn well there’s not one?” I mumble something about him being stupid.

“Definitely stubborn. But stupid? That’s a no. As far as there being a festival or not—you’ll have to wait and find out.” He gives me one of his irresistible grins. I can’t argue with him when he does that.

Gossip at school has escalated over the past few days. News of life-long enemies playing nice with each other doesn’t sit well with the student body. Ben and I receive constant glares and whispers when we walk through the hallways. I keep my chin up, though, to let them know it doesn’t bother me.

“See you in class,” he says, like he does every day we walk together.

But today’s different, because Jana and Blake aren’t waiting for me at my locker. In a way, I’ve lost them. I know they aren’t Followers. I know none of this is morally correct. I shouldn’t be with him.

After Chemistry, I snatch my English book and head to class. Ben’s waiting for me. I plop down in my usual seat next to him.

“Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?” he whispers.

I roll my eyes. Since when do I look anything other than disorderly?

“No, you haven’t,” I reply.

“Well, you do.”

“Ben, I thought we were staying on the friendship-only level.” I test his reaction. My heart beats rapidly, waiting for his response. True, I can handle something more, but can he? I have to keep everything in check.

He bites his lip and avoids my eyes for a couple of seconds. He glances at the front of the class, where Mr. Everett is writing today’s lecture on the dry erase board. “I’ve thought about it, and I don’t really want to be just friends.”

My heart bursts into a shower of confetti. I make sure my voice is free of its nervous edge before I ask, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, and I do want to take you out tonight.”

I can hardly breathe. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says, leaning back in his seat. Now he wants to pay full attention to whatever Mr. Everett rambles about.

The bell shrills, and we stand from our desks. My face is still heated.

“Pick you up after school?” Ben asks.

I can only nod.

At lunch, I search everywhere for Jana and Blake but can’t find them. I sit alone, drinking chocolate milk and eating a chilled slice of pizza. I can’t even stomach it, and toss it back onto my tray. Are they that pissed at me? I don’t want to ruin a good friendship. They’re the only two people who made me feel welcome when I moved here.

Silently, I hope they’re just late for school, that I’ll see them in class.

But later, when I enter Geography, they’re not there.

I sit at my desk. My fingers thrum in a wave. I pick up my pencil and chew on it. Something’s up. They’re never out at the same time.

Even after class is over and school is out, I look for them. Still no indication they showed up. I suddenly wish I was working today, so I could find out what’s going on. With my luck, Jana won’t be at Livia’s.

Ben pulls up to the curb and I slide into the passenger seat.

“You seem upset,” he says. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head and mutter, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” He leans forward, trying to lock eyes with me.

I wave him off. “No, really. It’s nothing.” Why am I so agitated?

“Okay,” he says, falling back against his seat.

Within a few minutes, I’m at my doorstep. Ben drives too fast for anyone’s good. We sit in silence for a few minutes. I assume we both have something to say, and don’t know how to say it. He speaks first.

“If you don’t feel like going tonight, I’ll understand. We can hang out again some other night.”

“No, I don’t want to cancel on you. I might need this getaway.”

“All right. I’ll pick you up around seven.”

I nod, opening the passenger door.

“Oh, and Candra,” he adds, “wear something nice.” Again, he gives me a tempting smile.

My first thought upon entering the house is that I’m glad Randy and Beth aren’t home. Beth will have another tizzy if she finds out I’m still seeing Ben.

Later, she does show up. Pops in from work while I’m upstairs primping. I hear the front door close, and her footsteps on the stairs.

“Candra?” she asks on the other side of my door.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“Randy and I have a dinner date tonight. You want us to bring you something back?” Her voice is muffled.

“No, that’s fine. I’m not that hungry.” What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She’d lock me in my room and make sure I’d never see daylight again.

She’s out of the house with plenty of time to spare, but it’s ten till seven and no sign of Ben. I wonder if he’s one of those people that either shows up on the dot, or shows up fashionably late.

I pace the floor, stare at my clock until it changes minutes, and secretly wish I could speed up time. My stomach rolls. Vomiting crosses my mind.

I pick up Help for Beginners: Black Magic and skim the first few pages. A picture of demons floating in the air, and humans cowering before them is on the second page of the first chapter. I read on.

Those set in the ways of practicing the dark art must always abide by one rule: Use the gift at your own risk.

What the hell? I slam the book shut. Sounds like some sort of warning label.

Ding dong. The door bell calls to me.

I try composing myself. A smile creeps onto my lips when I see that he brought me red roses. Propping himself against the doorframe with one arm, he leans in close to me. My skin tingles.

“Um…” There are so many words I want to say right now, but I’m trying to think of ways to say them without being rude. “Ben, we’re just friends. You even said that. And this…festival we’re going to…” I reach out, grasping for more words, but I can’t think straight with his pearly whites sparkling so close to my face, and his minty breath grazing my neck. The walls disintegrate around me.

“Candra, there’s no festival.” His smile grows wider, if that’s possible.

“Oh?” I bury my nose in the flowers, unable to say anything. I can try, but I’ll be unsuccessful.

“I want to take you out to dinner,” he says, biting his lower lip.

Please stop. I shut my eyes.

His eyebrows fold. “Is that…okay?”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine.” My voice shakes. “I’m going to go put these in water. Be right back.” I practically trip on my way to the kitchen.

Once again, we’re silent on the ride to the restaurant. The thought that, at this moment, everything’s so perfect makes me sad. It’s too perfect. Perfect doesn’t exist, and nothing lasts forever. I also know that at the end of the day, he’s still my biggest threat.

I growl in annoyance, forgetting I’m still in the car.

“What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?” Ben frowns.

“Sorry. Just thinking about some stuff.”

Like how I could eat him instead of my birthday cake in a couple of months.

Street lights illuminate the snow slush accumulated on the side of the roads; they twinkle like stars as we pass, and then fade behind us. In the thick, falling rain, the street lamps cast an eerie orange glow.

We pull to the front of an upscale restaurant, behind a line of cars. Parking is valet and one of the men in a red vest gladly opens my door for me, as Ben walks around the car to hand him his keys.

Beau Lierre is beautiful from the outside. White lights entwine with ivy. Tables the color of a milky coffee, with glass tops, sit in the outer porch area, which is sheltered by a green cover. A black metal fence with elaborate crownwork weaves its way around the building and to the front, where we’re greeted by a gate.

Ben leads me up the short walkway; his hand on my lower back, guiding me. He opens the door. Fully gentleman-like.

A hostess in a plain black dress greets us as we enter, seating us upstairs. Most of the restaurant is made up of booths, presumably for privacy.

The menu is in both French and English. I have no idea what to order. I feel so out of place.

“Okay, seriously, this is too much. I would’ve been happy just going to eat a burger,” I tell him.

He suppresses a laugh. “This is nothing.”

The color rises in my cheeks. “Thanks.” I can’t believe this is happening. I’m sitting here with one of the most gorgeous guys in high school, and he’s making me blush. I push aside my thoughts to continue the conversation. “So, you’ve lived here all your life?”

“Yep. Born and raised.” He eyes me for a moment. “Why are you here? I heard you were in some sort of trouble back home?”

I snort. “It’s a big misunderstanding. That’s all.”

“You think you’ll go back?”

“God, I hope so.” I realize my words came out too quickly. I don’t want him to think I can’t stand being with him. “I mean—”

“You don’t like living here?” His black eyes pierce mine. For a second, I’d believe my heart skips a beat.

Regaining my poise, I say, “It’s not that. I mean, I could’ve stayed in Charleston, but my parents thought this was best.”

Why am I talking to him about my problems? He probably knows everything by now, anyway.

“But you think otherwise.” He isn’t questioning me.

This is embarrassing. I refuse to look at him. Instead, I keep my gaze directed down at the table. “I thought things could’ve been worked out back home and there wasn’t a good reason for being here. But now I know I was wrong.” My eyes lift to gauge his reaction.

He leans forward. “Enlighten me.” I get sidetracked again, but pull myself out of his trance-like stare long enough to answer.

“Umm…” I stall. “Well, my aunt and uncle have been really good to me. They could’ve easily said no about taking me in. I’ve learned a lot from them.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

My face warms. “I want to go back. Charleston is home. But part of me feels like I belong here.” I laugh nervously. “I know. It sounds crazy.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay,” is all he says, with a grin. “Will you be going back to Charleston anytime soon?”

“Not that I know of. I’m pretty much stuck here until I graduate. That’s part of the deal.”

“Good.” He reaches across the table to take my hand. This can’t be happening. Not to me. Why’s he so infatuated? Oh, but he’s so perfect.

Our waitress stops by to take our drink orders. Ben never lets go of my hand. The longer he holds it, the hotter it becomes. I wonder if it’s some sort of heat reaction to our increased werewolf hormones, or if it’s something else entirely.

“You seem upset,” he says. “Hopefully not by my questions.”

I cringe and shake my head. “It’s a sensitive subject, I guess. I haven’t really talked about my feelings with anyone since I moved here. You’re the first.”

“Well, now I feel special.” He pauses for a few seconds, cautious. “There are things that I’d like to tell you, but I don’t think now’s the right time.”

Our waitress brings us our drinks, and we order dinner.

“Like what?” I ask when she leaves.

The edge of his mouth curves into a grin. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Chapter Nineteen

I can’t sleep. I’ve never been so attracted to someone, especially someone who makes me feel like I belong. He makes me believe I’m invincible, noticed.

I’m working up enough courage to talk to him about changing the way things are between our families. It can’t always be like this, a battle over something so moronic. Maybe there’s a sliver of possibility waiting just around the corner. Maybe it’s my destiny—stopping what started years ago.

Fate twists and flips people until they land on their backs so they have no choice but to see the light. It might be the most desperate attempt I can make, but I’ve made up my mind. There’s no stopping me.

I’m going to his house.

Several questions hop through my mind: what if he’s not there? What if they kill me? What if I’m held hostage, nobody knowing my whereabouts?

Pen meets paper. I scribble a short note to Beth. I’m hoping this won’t take long, so I can return home and rip it up before she sees it.

I lock the front door behind me. Beth and Randy shouldn’t be home for a few more hours. Hopefully that’ll be enough time. My hands tremble at the thought of the consequences I might face if I’m caught.

Please be there.

I concentrate on directions, remembering when Jana dropped Lily off, and I shudder at the thought of the poor animal in the forest. It was never a dog. I’m fully aware of that now.

Light fades on the horizon, like a candle dimming then exhaling its last breath. Digging my hands further into my pockets, I bury my head and push against the wind, which pushes back hard. There’s a bite behind the cold, and the sky tells me winter is coming.

I pass house upon house and walk down several separate streets before I’m familiar with my location. I know his house is close. Nearby, smoke pours into the air from a pile of dead leaves someone’s burning in their front yard. My nose wiggles at the bitter stench. I latch onto my biceps, hugging myself. My breath hangs in the air for a matter of seconds then evaporates. I silently pray his house is near.

Sharp-pointed hedges form a layered wall. I can’t see the driveway, but I remember Jana barely making it through. Tugging at a few stray limbs, I step through without a scratch. The dirt path extends further than I can see, and, above me, night wraps its arms around half the world.

The fact that I’m alone, near his house, and he might not be there, has crossed my mind. Dark closes in, suffocating. Leaves blow around me. The tree trunks are twisted, reminding me of faces. I think of my dream, and them telling me to turn around. I wonder if I should listen.

As I approach the house, I notice there aren’t any lights on. Someone has to be home. Maybe they enjoy sitting in the dark…

Two knocks on the door, because I don’t see a doorbell. Actually, it’s hard to see anything—nothing lights the front porch, except the moon. I’m about to turn and leave when the front door swings open, hitting a wall with a vibrating thud.

“Can I help you?” the lady practically purrs. She’s dressed in a floral silk outfit that has a low cut V-neck, and ends at her toes. It doesn’t look like pajamas. Her eyes are the color of the midnight sky, like her hair, which is pinned up in a loose twist.

I gain courage, seemingly showing it by sticking my nose a little too far in the air. “I’m here to see Ben.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Ben’s not here,” she informs me.

“Oh, okay, thanks,” I say, turning around.

I make it to the second porch step, when she says, “But you can stay until he gets back.”

“No, that’s okay. I need to get home.” I nervously laugh.

She props one arm on the doorframe and glances toward the driveway. “No car?”

“Not yet,” I say, backing up.

“Pity.” Her eyes glow yellow, watching me closely.

This is a really bad idea. Why do I make stupid, last minute decisions?

I can’t take my eyes off hers. Every time I see the golden glow, it puzzles me. Her eyes are seductive and wicked; eyes made to deceive prey into thinking we’re beautiful, harmless creatures. It’s all a lie.

And right now, I’m the prey.

“I’ll give you a two minute head start,” she flatly states.

I hesitate. She’s got to be joking.

But she’s not.

So I bolt through the trees, away from the main road. It’d be easier to spot me on a main road. There’s no point in taking any chances. Flames creep into my lungs. I focus my breath through my mouth and out my nose, but it’s still coming in short, ragged spurts.

Pick up your feet.

I might not make it out of these woods alive. I know she’ll catch up, and I’ll be ripped apart. Each limb snapped one by one.

Where are your Watchers now, Beth? Can they see me? Can you hear me?

Now the trees look at me with concerned expressions. I feel guilty. I should’ve listened and stayed away.

I hear a growl in the distance, then a slow, terrifying howl.

The hunt begins.

Leaves crunch behind me. The wind swirls, and I catch a faint whiff of wet dog. My feet pick up speed. I run like I’ve never run before in my life. I can already feel the leg cramps setting in. Silently, I pray to myself that I don’t trip on a tree stump or something poking out of the ground.

Get on the main road, Candra! my head screams. For once in my life, I listen. As soon as I dart through the brush, headlights blind me, and I’m frozen in place.

Chapter Twenty

A car speeds toward me with no signs of slowing down.

I can’t scream. I can’t even think. The vehicle swerves, fishtails and skids to a halt, missing me by mere inches. The engine sputters and quits.

“Get in!” yells Ben.

I don’t have to turn around to know she’s right behind me. As soon as I slam the passenger door shut, a loud thump hits my window, producing a glass web.

“Ben!” I scream.

“I’m trying!” He turns the key over and over again in the ignition, but the car won’t start. I swing my legs around and place my feet against the glass, praying it won’t shatter.

“Ben, hurry, please,” I beg, on the brink of tears.

“She won’t let me!”

The remnants of the window break away. All I see are exposed sharp, white fangs and fur as dark as the sky above us. She clamps down on my ankle, her teeth grinding against bone. Pain sears up my leg. Ben wraps his arms around mine and pulls, but she’s too strong. I’m in a tug-of-war, and she’s winning. Each time he pulls me toward him, I feel a little more flesh ripping off my body.

“Stop! Please!” I cry. It’s my blood she tastes—it’s what she wanted all along.

Ben growls and releases me. She pulls me out the window. My body smacks the pavement. She looms above me, assessing her next meal. Her snout sniffs the sticky mess around my ankles, and she licks her chops.

“Mom, no!” Ben shouts, but, somehow, he seems far away.

I gaze into her yellow eyes, wondering what’s going through her head. Does it feel good to have the one you want to kill within reach?

I glance up and see Ben standing on top of his BMW. Only he isn’t Ben anymore. He’s a werewolf, with thick, black hair and eyes that put the night sky to shame. His size is like nothing I’ve ever seen before—I’m surprised he hasn’t dented the roof of his car.

He groans, speaking in a language I don’t understand yet. His mom snarls at him, then returns her gaze to me.

I roll to my side, thinking I might barf at any second. The sight of blood, and the fact that my leg almost looks like paper after it’s been run through a shredder, have me feeling woozy. I try to scream, but the pain prevents me from making rational thoughts. I lay down, comforted by the thousands of stars in the heavens. I’m fading…fast.

I’m coherent enough to know what’s going on. Ben watches me from the roof of his car, and then leaps onto her. I rise up on my elbows, trying to pull myself out of the way, but the pain is so intense I can’t move, so I lay there and watch them. They move in a circular path, snapping and nipping at one another’s faces. Their jowls stay raised—long, white incisors reaching further than the gum line.

Then Ben goes crazy—scratching, clawing, and ripping hair out at the root, until he catches her by throat, pinning her to the ground. Something inaudible is said between them, something much like a snort and whine, and she whimpers. He lets her go and I try to pull myself out of harm’s way.

But Ben stands between me and her. He turns and looks at me, his eyes concerned and exhausted.

“Get in the car, Candra,” he says softly.

I open the door, able to pull myself into the passenger seat. His mom skulks off toward their house. Ben comes around the side of his car, and shifts back into his human form. I redirect my eyes, since he’s naked.

When he takes a seat behind the wheel, I only smell sweat and earth. I hear him rummaging through stuff in the backseat.

“Here,” he says, handing me a worn t-shirt, “put this around your leg. It’ll stop the bleeding.”

I won’t look at him, even though my eyes are being pulled in his direction. The pain is worse now. It’s taking all of my self-control not to let out one last scream before passing out. The dizzier I become, the more my stomach tells me to open the door and puke.

He chuckles. “You can look, Candra. I’m not naked anymore.”

At first, I think he might be joking, but when I glance at him, he’s wearing sweat pants. Still, without a shirt.

I gawk at the curves on his bare chest, the way they seem so perfect. Bile rises in my throat, not from seeing him like that, but from the queasiness in the pit of my belly.

“You want to take a picture?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I shake my head, bemused. “What?”

“You keep staring at me, like you’ve never seen a guy shirtless before. If it helps,” he says, grabbing another t-shirt, “I’ll put this on.” He pulls a worn white tee over his head.

Heat radiates in my cheeks. “I-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t realize…” I trail off, looking away.

The engine roars to life.

I whip my head around and ask, “It works?”

“I tweaked it a little,” he says.

“When?”

“A second ago.”

“But you didn’t—”

“Look, just because I didn’t get under the hood, doesn’t mean I don’t have skills.” He glares at me, like I’ve done something to offend him.

I nod. “Okay.”

His face softens and relaxes. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need to get home—” I glance at my watch, and notice the second-hand isn’t moving. “That’s weird,” I mumble.

“Everything okay?” Ben asks, eyeing me.

I say, “Fine. Yeah, I just need to get home. My leg is killing me.”

He floors the gas pedal, and we zoom past his house, past the pile of burning leaves. It’s well into the night. Randy or Beth might’ve read my note. I’m toast.

“Are you warm?” Ben asks, catching me off guard.

I mumble, “Um, yeah.”

More agonizing minutes pass. My leg feels like it might explode at any moment. I’ve lost a lot of blood and need to get to a hospital. For now, the t-shirt will suffice.

“Were you scared?” He pulls off the road and onto a dirt spot, surrounded by trees. Before I can respond, he says, “Don’t answer that. It’s a stupid question.”

“Scared I might die? Yes,” I reply, rubbing my arms, pulling them closer to my chest. “Scared of you changing? No.” I look at him then. He’s watching me intently. Neither of us says a word.

We don’t have to.

“You’re a stupid, stupid girl. You know that, right?” he says, choking on the words.

I whisper, “I know.”

He gently drags me across the short distance and into his lap, holding me, rocking me. I don’t realize I’m crying until he places a finger under my chin and lifts my face. He brushes his thumb across my cheek and raises it to show me a tear.

“You saved me again,” I tell him. “First, from your brothers. Then emotionally after the fight with Cameron.”

He releases a short burst of laughter. “Sometimes I think I’m destined to watch out for you.”

I rest my head on his chest, listening to the thump, thump of his heart. We stay in that position for a long time, unspoken thoughts forgotten.

Chapter Twenty-One

When we reach my house, there are no lights on and no cars parked out front.

“They’re not here,” I say.

As soon as we near the door, the sky opens up. Raindrops bounce off the windshield.

I groan.

“What—you don’t like rain?” Ben asks. His lips curve at one corner.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I’m kind of disabled right now and don’t feel like taking another shower today,” I reply.

Ben snorts. “Right. Like I’d let you drag yourself to the front door.”

I don’t need to play the damsel in distress. As a matter of fact, I despise girls who do. But this is one of those rare occasions I can’t refuse. He jumps out of the car and comes around the side, opening my door. One of his arms slides under my legs, and the other around my back. He carries me to the front door.

“Candra,” he says, nodding toward the entrance. “Key.”

“Oh, right!” I rummage through my purse and pull them out, jangling. Ben lowers me, so I can slide the house key in the lock. He helps push the door open.

He stops and stares at me. “Where’s your bedroom?”

My cheeks flush, and I momentarily lose my train of thought.

“Not for that,” he says, watching my reaction.

I point. “Um, up there.”

He gracefully carries me up the stairs and, when we get to the top, I direct him toward my room. The only boy I’ve ever had in a room of mine is Sean—my friend in Charleston—but he doesn’t count. He’s more of a brother to me.

Ben lays me down on the bed.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he says.

I sit up. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t think Randy and Beth would be too happy to see my car out front when they get home. I need to go park it down the street. Then I’ll be back to take care of your leg.”

I give him a nod. He darts out the door.

Waiting for him hurts, but I’m pretty sure my leg hurts more. I hope the throbbing goes away. Another hour and I might bleed to death. Okay, not really, but it feels like it. The wise thing to do: take me to a hospital. I just hope Ben has a good plan.

It doesn’t take long for me to crash into a sleep-induced coma.

I’m falling. My hair stands vertical against gravity. But as I near the ground, I’m frozen in mid-air. He stands beside me, appearing out of nowhere. His body is no more than a black mist, transparent.

He runs a ghost-like hand from my toes to my head, surveying my entire body. His touch is what I’ve always thought clouds to feel like—cold and airy. Even though I can’t see his eyes, I know he’s staring at me. I still can’t see his face. Cautiously, his hand moves toward my neck, grabs hold and squeezes. I’m suffocating.

But my limbs won’t budge. Some greater power holds me in place. If there was a way to fight back, I would.

Tighter he squeezes. Tighter and harder. My face feels like it’s falling asleep, going numb. Green and white dots freckle my eyesight.

He begins shaking me. The last moments of my life swirl and reel in a vortex of bright colors and familiar faces.

“Candra! Wake up!”

I suck in a deep breath, my hands immediately clutching my throat. Ben stands beside my bed, watching me suspiciously. I pull myself into a sitting position.

“Bad dream,” I mumble, coughing up the words.

He scratches the back of his neck. “Sounded like it.”

I struggle to move my leg. “Ouch.” I wince, pulling a sharp breath in through my teeth.

“Do you have anything we can use to treat this?” he asks, staring at my makeshift bandage. Blood has soaked its way through his old t-shirt. I don’t want it on my comforter. Beth will really freak out then.

“I think there’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom,” I say. “Maybe some sort of bandages and cream.”

Ben doesn’t hesitate. He storms toward the hallway, and I hear the medicine cabinet above the sink screech open. When he comes back, he has ointment, gauze and scissors.

“This should work,” he tells me, taking a seat at the end of my bed. He sets my leg across his lap and unwraps the improvised dressing.

My leg looks like Swiss cheese, with large, gaping holes from the bites. I look away. Don’t pass out, I convince myself.

“Damn,” states Ben. “This is worse than I thought.” Lightly, his fingers graze my skin.

I tremble.

“I’ll get you fixed in no time,” he says.

Unwinding the gauze, he snips a portion off, drizzling water from a paper cup and blotting my skin. Most of the bleeding has stopped, but Ben takes extra care in making sure there’s no excess. He squeezes the ointment onto my leg, gently rubbing circles.

“Does that hurt?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’m good.” Okay, that’s a complete lie. I want to bawl my eyes out until they’re dry, and, really, I’m only trying to be brave. Being brave sucks.

After he applies the medicated gel, he wraps my leg.

He tosses me one of his smiles. “See, all better.”

“Thanks.” I feel sheepish for letting him stay and take care of me. I’ll be throwing a pity party later, with guilt as the appetizer and misery for the main course. How can I repay him? I’m the one who started this, yet he’s the one taking care of me.

“You going to be all right?” he asks, carefully lifting my leg off his lap and setting it on the bed, as he stands up.

I bite my lip and respond, “I’ll be fine.”

He walks to my window, flips the latch and raises it.

“Wait,” I blurt. “Don’t go.”

His face sinks. “Candra, I can’t stay here.”

“I keep my door closed most of the time, anyway. They’ll never know you’re here. Please? Just for tonight?” My heart plays a melody, frantically humming against my chest.

He faces the window again—gaze lowering to the sill. “Do you know how much is at stake right now?” he asks through clenched teeth.

“I know.”

He forces a sigh. “This one time. That’s it.”

I scoot over on the bed. Ben pulls the comforter down, and then pulls it back up over us. He faces away from me. I stare at his shoulders and back for a long time, even assessing the tiny hairs at the base of his neck.

“Night,” I finally say.

But he doesn’t respond.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Where have you been?” Jana asks at school the next day.

“At home,” I sarcastically reply. “Where else would I be?”

“Well, it’s just…I feel like I haven’t seen you much lately. I mean—OH MY GOD. What happened to your leg?”

I glance at my ankle. “Nothing it’s just a scratch.”

“Um, scratches don’t require the use of heavy bandages.”

I don’t say anything. We walk side by side through the crowd of students in the hallway until we reach my locker. I spin the lock a few times and it clicks open.

“Did you hear about those two sophomores who went missing?”

“Uh, no. I don’t really keep up with the news. Plus, I’ve been busy.”

“Oh, well. They can’t seem to find them. I don’t know them, though. But that’s so awful.”

“That’s what search and rescue is for.” I do think it’s a little strange that two girls go missing. But who knows? Maybe they decided to get out of this place, and didn’t tell anyone.

Jana cuts the thick air by asking, “You’re still coming to work today, right?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Just because you haven’t seen me in a couple of days doesn’t mean I quit my job,” I snap. Why am I being so bitchy to her? I take a breath and collect my thoughts.

“Good, because Lily’s acting weird lately. I think she might quit.” Jana cringes.

“Lily, Lily,” I mock. “I can’t stand her.”

Jana leans against the set of lockers beside mine, folding her arms across her chest. “Candra, what’s wrong with you today? You’re never like this.”

“I’m in a shitty mood,” I reply, which is entirely true.

“Sorry to hear that,” she mumbles. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you in class.”

I want to apologize for my behavior, but I choke on words that never leave my mouth. How can I explain to her what’s going on? She’ll never understand. Most of the werewolves of West Hartford—from what I’ve learned—don’t want their identities in the open. They don’t want humans finding out we exist. We’re nothing.

My stomach feels fuzzy. First period whizzes by, and as soon as I hit the door for second period, I realize Ben’s not in his desk. I search the room, but he’s nowhere.

Maybe he’s at his locker, I think.

Classmates file into their seats, and still no sign of him. The tardy bell rings, and I know then that he’s not coming to class. I almost feel stupid for asking him to stay with me last night. I should’ve let him leave, go home, wherever.

English is one big blur. I’m ready to leave, and it’s only noon.

Jana’s late for lunch, but sits with me at our usual table by the back windows.

“Where’s Blake?” I ask as soon as she sits.

“Oh, he had some plans with his family today. I have no clue what they’re up to. An annual get-together or something,” she blathers.

“Sounds boring.” I snort.

“Maybe, but at least he’s not at school.”

I weigh the options. “True.”

“What really happened to you?” Jana’s eyes are like truth serum. I can’t hold my words back. Once I open my mouth to speak, they’ll flow like water.

“I was born an idiot,” I answer, staring at the plain table.

“No, you weren’t. Why would you think that?”

I hiss the words through my teeth as I look up. “Look, there’s stuff going on that you don’t know about, stuff I can’t tell you. So, it’d be nice if you stop asking me questions.” Instantly, I regret saying it, and turn my face away.

Seconds of silence dangle between us. Jana’s face speaks for itself. A combination of shock and hurt crumples her features.

She says, “Okay,” and picks up her tray.

I battle with myself for two seconds.

“Wait!” I yell.

She turns around and walks toward me, keeping her distance.

She’ll be even more pissed when she hears about Ben. I might lose her on this one, but I inhale, exhale through my mouth, and say, “Have a seat.” When she does, I say, “Ben stayed the night with me.”

She’s speechless, I assume, since she doesn’t say anything at first. So I’m quick to add, “I ran into his mom, and things got a little out-of-hand.”

“I hate to say it, but I told you so.”

I shrug it off. “Yeah, I know I was wrong.”

Her eyes soften. “They’re crazy, Candra. I didn’t tell you to stay away from Ben for just any reason. In case you haven’t noticed, they kind of hate you.”

“I’ve noticed,” I say, staring anywhere but at her.

“So, tell me,” she starts, “why didn’t he pick you up for school this morning?”

I groan. “You noticed?”

She nods.

“I have no idea. When I woke up, he was gone.” I’m quick to add, “But we didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t sound convinced, and her smile is nothing but wicked, a slap in the face. Why didn’t I listen to her, Randy and Beth?

~*~

Work drags, even though customers flood in, like we’re giving away free clothes. I’ve never been so busy in my life. And sitting around all the time, doing nothing but folding shirts and jeans, and taking pictures for the website, doesn’t prepare me much.

“Whoa! That was rough!” Jana exclaims, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow once our last customer leaves.

I blow a raspberry. “Yeah, too much for me. Where’d all those people come from?”

She shakes her head, and tidies up the counter. “I have no idea. Is it bad that I hope they don’t come back for a while?”

“Funny. You read my mind.” I throw her a smile.

She steps down from behind the counter, and leans against it. “I meant to ask you if you want to go to Hartford with me and Blake this weekend.”

I shrug. “Yeah, sure. What’s going on there?”

“Just a getaway trip. Nothing fancy. We wanted to get some fresh air for a bit,” she says.

I smile and think, You have no idea how much fresh air I need, but refrain from saying it aloud. “I’m in.”

“Good! C’mon. Let’s get this place cleaned up, before another herd stampedes through here,” she says, taking off toward the supply room.

The clothes are in lumpy piles, and sizes are completely out of order. Somehow we manage to get everything back where it belongs, and neatly.

“I need to get the new shipment and spread it on the table, so we can take pictures,” Jana says, chewing on her lower lip.

“I’ll go grab the boxes,” I say.

Jana nods. “Yeah, sure.”

The back of the shop is where we store new arrivals. It’s a tight area, but everything’s in a specific place. Livia has designated shelving for certain clothes—shoes, shirts, bottoms, new shipments. All I have to do is find the boxes and open them.

Something catches the corner of my eyes, something dark and…shadowy.

He’s here.

The hairs on my neck tickle my skin. I wonder how he got in, but then I realize none of this makes sense. He’s a dream, unreal. Period.

As soon as I turn toward him, he darts out the exit door. My stupid self decides to follow. Who is he? Why does he keep stalking me?

“Hey, wait!” I call behind him. He’s not far ahead, but he moves fluidly, like he doesn’t have feet.

I hobble past dumpsters, and their disgusting odors cinch my nostrils. As he floats through the alleyway, I remember him chasing me in my dreams. Now it’s the other way around.

A man steps out of a back door, taking out the garbage. He stares at me as I race past him, and then calls behind me, telling me to slow down. He doesn’t see what I see. He doesn’t have dreams that haunt him in real life.

The shadowy figure halts, and turns around to observe me. He raises a hand, points a wispy finger at me, and says, “You didn’t listen,” and just…vanishes.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jana asks what took so long when I reach Livia’s. I have to go through the front door, because the back door is locked.

“I needed some fresh air,” I tell her, which isn’t a complete lie. After seeing my stalker again, confirming my nightmares are real, I’d inhaled crisp autumn air more than once.

“You know there’s a rock sitting just inside the door for a reason, right?” She almost laughs.

“No, I did not know that, but I do now,” I say, heading into the back area of Livia’s.

Our cash register is as old as the Grand Canyon. Jana checks out another customer up front. I can hear the opening and closing of the drawer in the employee’s area; it emits an annoying ding every time the tray is released.

Beads of sweat roll down the back of my head and onto my neck. I scratch, and liquid clings to my fingertips.

“Gross,” I mumble, and walk to the back door. Jana is right—there’s a rock that probably weighs no more than three pounds sitting next to the back exit. I pick it up and jam it between the door and the doorframe to let cool air in.

I’m busy pulling down the boxes from the shelves, newly packaged and unopened, when I realize I hear the ding, but don’t hear the drawer close. It’s like the air presses down on my chest. Something’s wrong, and whatever it is, it’s through that door.

Creeping over to the entrance of the employee’s area, I stick my head around the corner. There, standing at the front counter, are Cameron and Ethan. Cameron’s seething about something.

“You know exactly where she’s at,” he hisses.

Jana shakes her head, and I hear her say, “She’s not working today.”

Oh, God. He’s after me. I bet this is related to his mom. Is that why Ben left my house early and wasn’t at school? What have they done to him?

I stretch my eardrums to listen as intently as possible.

“You’re lying, my dear,” Cameron states. “Now, tell me where she’s at.” He pounds his fist against the countertop. Jana jumps.

“I-I told you. I don’t know. Maybe she’s at home,” she stammers, her voice is teetering between different octaves.

“Lies! We’ve already been there and sniffed the place out. The only other place she’d be is here,” he presses.

Jana stiffens against the wall, like she gains some courage, and says, “Well, she’s not, so you need to leave.”

“Dammit! Since you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself,” he rages, stalking toward the employee’s area.

Oh, shit, I think. I take off as quickly as my injured leg allows me to, hiding behind some boxes stacked up on the floor. Then I realize my leg doesn’t hurt as bad. I frown for a second, until I hear heavy footsteps.

“She’s in here,” says Cameron.

“You’re right, bro,” Ethan says. “I can smell her too.”

I see them through the cracks in the boxes. Their noses sniff the air. What do they plan to do if they do catch me?

A frigid breeze blows through the exit door, which totally screws up their senses. Cameron eyes Ethan for a moment, and Ethan returns the same look. They bolt out the back door, as if I’m out there. Morons.

This is my only chance to keep them away. I run to the exit and roll the rock back inside with my foot.

“Jana! Lock the front doors!” I yell, running to the front of the shop.

She bounds to the front doors, and turns the locks. We each take a window and pull the drapes closed, which is easy, since they’re made like shower curtains. Their metal rings clink against the rod. Next, Jana shuts the blinds on the front door.

Banging commences in the back of the shop.

“Oh, God, they’re trying to get in,” I choke. I’m already out of breath. “Will the door hold up?”

Jana shakes her head slowly, in shock. “I have no idea. I think I might call Blake.”

“No! There’s no way he could fight both of them,” I say.

She whimpers. “Then what are we going to do, Candra?”

“I have no idea,” is all I tell her, because I really don’t know.

The pounding stops. Jana and I move behind the counter, away from the doors and windows. From where we stand, we can see the back door and the front. Jana’s body shakes, or is it me?

I whisper, “What are they doing?”

“I have no idea,” Jana whispers back.

Seconds crawl by. I don’t hear any sounds. They might’ve stopped whatever it is they’re up to.

But I doubt it.

The thought no sooner crosses my mind than a loud crash makes us drop to our knees and cover our heads. Glass had shattered, because one of them stomps and cracks the leftover pieces underneath their shoes.

I shudder.

Cameron begins humming a familiar children’s tune, then finishes by singing, “Oh, where oh where has that little bitch gone? Oh, where oh where can she be?” Laughter spews from his mouth, followed by Ethan’s.

Heat rises in my throat, threatening to gush out. Jana cringes, looking like she’s about to cry, and shakes her head at me. She doesn’t want me to do anything irrational.

“Oh, there you are,” Cameron says, peering over the counter. “I could smell you a mile away.” He reaches over and grabs the back of my shirt, dragging me with him.

I scream, but he’s quick to cover my mouth.

“Now, now. We can’t have you causing a scene, can we?” he taunts. Ethan leaps across the counter and grabs Jana, pulling her out into the open. She wails and tries to get away from him.

My fingers are immediately around Cameron’s, tugging at each one, trying to unclench them. I manage to get his hand away from my mouth.

“Let her go!” I yell at Ethan. He laughs at my weak plea, jerking Jana’s shirt harder.

“I heard you paid a visit to our dearest mother last night. She’s not too fond of people who cross her path in the wrong way. We’re not either. Oh, and Ben will be taken care of,” says Cameron.

“Don’t hurt him! He was only trying to protect me,” I cry out.

Cameron replies, “That’s exactly why he’ll be taken care of. Family first, darling. We’ll make sure it never happens again.”

“Let go of me,” I say, wrestling in his grasp.

“As you wish.” He shrugs, and then tosses me clear across the room. I slam into the far wall, against the shelves and clothing. My back cracks, and I fall on my shoulder with a loud crunch.

“Candra, no!” Jana sobs.

For several seconds, I lay in agonizing pain. A burning sensation ignites in my arm. I want to cry, but no tears will form. I can’t cry in front of them, anyway. Crying is a sign of weakness, and I refuse to be weak.

“Oh, you’re next,” Ethan tells Jana, and then slings her across the room. She lands nearby, screaming in pain.

Cameron casually walks in my direction. He kneels down next to me and says, “This is just a warning. Next time we won’t be so lenient. So, stay away.”

I roll onto my back, carefully, not wanting to injure myself further. I’m hoping it’s only a strain, but I’m doubtful.

They leave. Out the door and into the day, like nothing happened.

“Jana,” I whisper, “you okay?”

She sniffles. “I don’t think so. Candra, my arm hurts. I think it might be broken.”

I roll over and crawl toward her. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I’m going to get us out of this mess. I promise.”

Sirens wail outside. I’m sure the silent alarm sent them running. Boots hit pavement and barge inside the shop—two policemen, and a handful of firemen. The police rush over to us.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” one of them asks me. The other tends to Jana.

“My shoulder and back hurt, but I think I’ll be all right,” I tell him.

Jana complains about her arm to the police officer, and he tells her the paramedics have been called and will arrive any minute now. They ask what happened. Jana and I exchange furtive glances. We haven’t come up with a story yet.

I speak first. “Some crazy guy leapt through the window, shouting stuff.”

The police officer pulls out a pen and paper, and begins scribbling notes. “What did he say? Do you remember what he looked like?”

I glance away, not sure where my story is going. “I don’t remember. It happened so fast,” I reply.

“If you can recall anything, let us know. We’ll need you to come down to the station, when you’re discharged from the hospital, and make a statement,” he says.

I nod, gulping as soon as he steps away.

The paramedics carefully slide us onto stretchers. As they roll me out the doors, I happen to notice that the pink clock on the wall behind the counter. It stopped working fifteen minutes ago. It reminds me of the clock on the wall at school…and my watch after the incident with Ben’s home. Why do all of the clocks stop working when I’m around?

My vision fades out.

We’re transported to the hospital—I know that much. Paramedics unload us from the ambulances and rush us into the ER. The fluorescent lights burn my eyes, like I’m staring directly into the sun.

“You’re doing great, hon,” a nurse looming over me says.

The corner of my mouth twitches.

“Where’s Jana?” I mumble.

“What, dear?”

“Jana…” But my sight is fading fast. What the hell did they put in my IV?

The nurse pats my hand. “Oh, your friend is fine. Don’t worry about her.”

When I wake, I’m surrounded by machines that beep every couple seconds, and wires and tubes dangle from my arms. The room is like an ice chamber, and there’s a hint of a fresh, metallic aroma. The ugly mauve-brown curtain encircles my tiny area.

A nurse rustles the drape and finally tugs, until she finds an opening.

“There we go,” she says. Bright and cheery as ever. Her round face reminds me of a marshmallow—squishy and plump. “Are you feeling any better?” she asks.

“I’m okay, I think.” I try pulling myself into a sitting position. She rushes over and helps.

“Lucky for you we were able to put your shoulder back in its socket,” she says, giggling. My eyes cross, and my stomach sends acid into my throat. I swallow it back down.

“Di-Dislocated?”

“Hmm?” she questions, but then realizes what I’m asking, because she says, “Oh, yes. We had to give you medicine to knock you out. We couldn’t have you reliving that now, could we?” Her voice squeaks like a mouse.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “No, I guess not. Hey, where’s Jana?” I ask, glancing at the nurse.

She frowns, thinking. “Your friend that was with you?”

I nod. “Yeah, is she okay?”

The nurse busies herself doing God-knows-what with the machines, and then slides the curtain back to my left, revealing an empty bed. I give her a confused look. What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, she was here this morning—early this morning. Then we realized she healed overnight, and we had to let her go home. Her parents came and picked her up. She wanted to let you know, but you were still asleep, and she didn’t want to wake you,” the nurse tells me.

She healed overnight? That’s not possible. I saw her tears. I saw how badly she was hurt.

“When do you think I can go home?” I ask.

“Well, we checked your wallet, and didn’t find any clue as to who to call, so we decided to wait until you woke up to ask.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “So, you haven’t called anybody?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Where’s my purse?” I glare at her. I can’t believe they’ve waited this long to see about a parent or guardian.

“Oh, it’s over here.” She be-bops to the table by the wall, opens the top drawer, and pulls out my purse. “Here you go.” Her voice rings like a chorus of bells at Christmas.

I snatch my purse from her. Digging through it, I pull out a scratch pad and pen.

“Here’s my aunt and uncle’s number,” I say, ripping off a piece of paper. “Will you have someone let them know where I’m at, so I can leave?”

She nods.

I wait and wait. She finally comes back and says Beth is here.

“Leave us,” Beth orders the pudgy nurse. She listens. Beth turns back around to me, placing her palms on my cheeks. She lifts my head and looks me square in the eyes. “Why did they do this?” she asks.

I shake my head. “I have no idea.”

“Candra, don’t lie to me. They always have a reason, even if it’s minute. What’d you do to provoke them?” Her gaze burns holes into my eyes. She makes sure I’m looking at her. When I try to glance away, she snaps my head back.

I squeeze my eyes tightly and say, “I went to their house.”

My body braces for impact. Any minute now and Beth can do worse than what Cameron and Ethan did to me. She releases her grip on my face and steps back.

She whispers, “You did what?” I don’t like her voice; it has a rough edge. She might throw me out the window at any second.

“I thought I could change things. Obviously, I was wrong. I should’ve listened to you, and to Jana. I’m sorry.” I bite my lower lip—anything to keep the pain somewhere other than my eyes.

“Do you realize now what we’re talking about? Candra, sweetie, I don’t tell you this stuff to break your heart. I tell you because I love you and want to see you get out of here and do something with your life. I don’t want you to stay here anymore than you want to be here. And I don’t mean that in an offensive way,” she calmly says.

I snort and give her a grin.

“What I’m trying to say is: there are bigger and better places than West Hartford. You don’t need to get stuck in the middle of this war. It’s for us to fight, not you. That’s why I’m going to talk to your parents about sending you back home.” She stares at the sterilized white linoleum floor.

It takes me a minute before I can say, “Thanks, Beth.” I mean, this is what I’ve wanted since I got here. So, why is it my mind is telling me I should leave, go home, but my heart is telling me to stay?

She raises her head, pursing her lips and nodding. “Let me go speak to the nurses and get you out of here. I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the hall.

Away from West Hartford and back to Charleston? It’s almost too good to be true. Maybe then I’ll be able to sleep at night, knowing I don’t have someone trying to stalk me, warn me about something or want me dead. But what about Ben? He saved me—my personal hero. I can’t help but think about what his family might’ve done to him, and cringe at the thought.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Beth and I arrive back home in one piece. Obviously, I have a lot to think about—home, the Conways, spending the weekend away from it all.

We ease around the circular driveway, Beth throwing the gears into park.

“I’ll help you inside. Wait right here,” she says. Running around to my side, she opens my door for me. Why do I feel like this happens a lot lately? Oddly enough, my leg had healed since Ben wrapped it. The hospital took it upon themselves to remove the bandages, though they never questioned why they were there. If she knew what Ben’s mom had done…

I shudder.

My arm being in a sling makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to going to the hospital, or getting bandaged frequently.

“I need to go for a walk,” I abruptly tell Beth. I need fresh air. Everything’s been so crazy lately, and I feel like a bird—caged up and unable to fly.

She gives me a don’t-be-stupid look. “Candra, I don’t think it’s the best time to take an afternoon stroll.” As if that’s not enough, she glances over her shoulder and around the front yard, like the Conway brothers are hiding behind the trees.

“Please,” I beg. “I’ll be careful and won’t go far. Promise.” I produce the saddest facial expression I can muster.

Beth sighs and stares at me a few seconds before saying, “Fine. Don’t go far. If you aren’t back in thirty minutes, I’ll be looking for you.” She points at me.

I toss my one good arm around her neck and give her a hug. “Thanks!” Then I rush off toward the road.

No, I shouldn’t be wandering around carelessly. I might be snatched, kidnapped and killed before my thirty minute curfew is up. Cringing at the thought, I try to think of something else, something less brutal.

My legs take me to an unfamiliar area up the street. I’ve only been the opposite way to get to school and work, but never this way. It leads me to a dead-end, and the forest.

Don’t do it.

But it’s too tempting. My flesh and blood beckons me to the forest. There’s something in my heritage that screams to roam free. I know exactly what it is. I know instinctively where I want to go. It’s just not the best place to be, as a human.

My hand grates against the rough bark of the trees. The fragrances of damp earth and majestic pine trees fill my lungs. I continue walking, seeing how much further I can go, how deep the woods will allow me to go. On and on I trek, until I’ve no idea where I am. My bearings are completely messed up. The trees all start to look the same.

A bright blue color catches my eye. I snap my head in its direction, quickly taking cover behind a tree. The hue comes from a hoodie—one I’ve seen before.

Jana’s.

She and Blake must be close by, because the jacket hangs from a tree branch. As I get closer, I realize more clothes dangle from branches; hers and Blake’s shirts, jeans, shoes and even underwear.

Oh, God. They’re having an sex fest in the middle of the woods.

“But that can’t be right,” I say aloud. It’s not something I can see Jana and Blake doing. Immediately, I scan the area around me, looking for them. All I see are acres and acres of trees.

“Jana? Blake?” I call, but neither of them responds. They have to be close, right? I mean, they wouldn’t meander into the woods naked.

My body gets sucked further into the woods; like I can’t control it. My legs propel me forward, further and further. With each new step, I’m left wondering how I came so far.

“Hello?” I cautiously shout.

Nothing.

A few birds cackle in the tree tops. Wind rustles the leaves on the forest floor. My one good arm impulsively wraps itself around my other gimpy one for warmth. I need to go back, get out of here, but my soles firmly plant themselves in place.

And that’s when I hear giggling. I duck behind another tree, hoping whoever it is won’t notice I’m there. I see Jana and Blake jogging toward their clothes. At first, I just stare. Then I feel awkward for being a Peeping Tom. I want to jump out and announce my presence, but what would they think about me spying on them?

Questions race through my mind: why are they out here, in the woods, when it’s freezing? Who in their right mind would want to run around naked, especially when there are Followers, and the Conways?

The Conways are after you, not them.

After they dress, they just stand there, talking to one another. Blake’s arms rise and fall with whatever he’s saying. Jana’s eyebrows scowl then relax, concentrating on his words. I can’t hear anything, and Blake’s back faces me. So I survey Jana. Whatever it is, whatever has happened, her face turns sour, like she smells something rotten.

~*~

I make it home without them detecting me. The front door creaks open. Some show on television blares, and pots and pans clang in the kitchen.

Beth pokes her head around the corner and says, “Just wanted to make sure it was you.”

“Yep, it’s me,” I say, a little short-winded from my brisk walk home.

“Your mother called,” Beth shouts over running water. I enter the kitchen and see she’s filling a pot with the cool liquid.

I prop myself against the doorframe. “Oh, really? What’d she have to say?”

Beth carries the pot to the stove, sets it on a burner and turns on the heat. “She wanted to check on you, make sure everything’s going okay.”

My stomach twists. “Did you tell her about my…incident?”

She wipes her hands on the face of her jeans. “Huh? Oh, no. Nothing about that. You know how Amy gets. She’d go crazy. She and Bill would be on the next flight up here.”

I barely snort. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” I motion with my head toward the stove. “What are you making?”

“Spaghetti. Should be ready in about fifteen to twenty minutes,” she says.

I plaster a smile on my face. “Cool. I’ll have enough time to shower.”

Beth pours defrosted meat into a skillet, and I hear it sizzle as I leave the room. Upstairs, I toss my bag near my dresser and stand in the middle of my personal space, running my fingers through my hair, trying to make sense of what I saw. I want so badly to pick up the phone, just to see if Jana’s home yet. I want to tell her that I was there earlier, that I know she and Blake were naked, roaming through the open forest like nudists.

But I can’t let her know, because she’ll think I’m spying or something. How will I explain that?

Oh, sorry I stumbled on your and Blake’s adventures in the great unknown around West Hartford. My bad.

Yeah, right. She’ll never believe me. We happened to be in the same place, at the same time? No coincidence. More importantly, what were they really doing out there?

Chapter Twenty-Five

I can’t handle someone who’s hot then cold, and that’s exactly how Ben’s been acting. Obviously something happened with his parents. I’m sure he’s in some sort of medieval torture chamber for turning against his mom and helping me. He’s so distant in English—leaning as far away from me as possible, never making eye contact, not acknowledging that I exist.

The bell rings and I practically fly out of my chair and into the hallway. Jana stops by my locker.

“I need to talk to you after school or tonight, whenever you get a chance,” she says.

My eyebrows crinkle. “About what?”

“I can’t talk about it right now. Top secret stuff.”

I laugh, but she’s perfectly serious. “Okay, you got me. Call me tonight.”

She nods and wanders off.

The next thing I know, a presence hovers over me. A hand slams against the locker beside mine. Out of my side vision, I see Ben.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound uninterested while filing away books.

“I need to talk to you,” he says gruffly.

“Yeah, well, seems like everyone needs to do that today,” I retort, slamming my locker and turning around to him.

He rolls his eyes. “How’s tonight?”

I squeeze a sigh through my teeth. “What time and where?”

“Six. I’ll pick you up.”

“’Kay.” Brushing past him, I trot down the hall.

Getting answers out of Jana at lunch doesn’t work out so well. She’s adamant about waiting until tonight to tell me whatever information she has. Am I assuming it’s about Ben? Of course. Will I be surprised? Probably not.

Nothing surprises me anymore.

“So, just like that he wants to meet with you tonight?” Jana whispers.

The lunchroom is heavy with voices and sounds, so it’s not like anyone will hear us. I think she’s taking extra precautions.

“Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m ready to get this over with. I saw it coming. He and Lily make a better couple, anyway.” I mold a smile onto my face.

Jana watches me carefully, and then says, “I’d tell you right now, if we weren’t surrounded by prying ears.”

“Um, nobody’s listening to us. We always sit in the corner of the cafeteria, away from the hoopla,” I tell her, glancing around to confirm my statement. The jocks and cheerleaders—and anyone else that matters—sit several tables over. The only people even remotely near us are a couple of loner girls who have a teen magazine, and are too busy drooling over celebrities.

“I really want to, but this is serious. Like, I-could-be-killed-for-telling-you serious,” says Jana. Her eyes practically explode from their sockets.

My mouth presses into a line. “Fine. Tonight it is.”

After school, Jana offers me a ride home. I politely decline, since I’ll find out what’s so important later. I’m not in the mood to deal with drama and secrets anymore. I have enough to deal with. So, I walk.

Chilly wind nips at my cheeks, and any other area of exposed skin. I tuck my hands in my front jean pockets and lower my head. The icy breeze makes my eyes sting and brings tears to the surface. Leaves crunch under my Chucks. The rest scatter, as the wind sweeps them across the sidewalk.

I don’t know how much more I can handle when it comes to cold weather. What I do know is that the arctic blasts of air don’t seem as dreadful the closer I am to home. Ideas and scenes spring to life inside my mind, triggering me to forget about the cold. What’s so secret that Jana has to wait and tell me? Why won’t Ben simply crush my hopes at school?

In a front yard I pass, an elderly lady lets her teacup poodle roam freely. She stands on the patio in a flannel nightgown, arms crossed, waiting for it to finish. As soon as she sees me, her eyes grow to the size of pumpkins. She snatches her dog and runs inside; the door crashes behind her. I hear the indistinct click as she locks it.

She has to be a Follower, I think. People who are Followers in this town are more terrified than they are courageous, in my opinion. They only take sides with the Conways because they want to save their lives, not someone else’s.

When I finally make it home, all I want to do is crash and disappear into my nightmare world. I don’t even care that I’m being followed by some insane psychopath who can’t make up his mind about whether he wants to kill me or not.

The weird thing is that I can’t sleep. Usually sleeping isn’t a problem for me, but today I have too much to think about. At this point, I don’t care if Beth greets Ben at the door and rips him to pieces. I assume he’s picking me up…

I lay in agonizing wait, staring at the red numbers on the alarm clock beside my bed. The minutes are slow, the hours even slower, but finally six o’clock arrives. I roll out of bed and leave my room, sitting on the stairs. I pull my legs up so I can rest my chin on them. The only noise in the house is the sound of the grandfather clock ticking.

A knock startles me out of the silence. Standing, I meander to the front door and check the peephole. It’s Ben.

I release a deep sigh before opening the door to greet him.

“Hey,” I say with no enthusiasm.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” I don’t bother to lock the door behind me. Hopefully this won’t take long. I need this to be done, as much as I hate to admit.

Ben doesn’t speak the whole car ride. He pulls into the parking lot behind May’s. Being at this place brings back memories of the first night Jana and I encountered Cameron, and how he purposely started trouble.

Even as he gets out of the car, Ben still won’t say anything. My heart drops, and then I remind myself that his family wants to kill me. He holds my gaze for a second, and then looks away.

He doesn’t bother opening the door for me. This isn’t Beau Lierre, of course.

No valet. No candles. No gentleman-like behavior.

Ben leads us to a booth. He takes a seat facing the entrance, and I sit across from him.

A waitress takes our drink orders and promises to be back shortly.

“So…” I begin, but Ben holds up a finger to shush me.

His expression is vacant as he stares toward the front windows. His glare is fierce enough to bore a hole through the glass.

I seize the awkward moment to speed read through the menu. It’s the usual—burgers, hot dogs, fries, cokes. The typical ‘50s-style joint.

Our waitress comes back with our drinks and asks if we’re ready to order.

“I want a cheeseburger—and drag it through the garden,” Ben says. He looks at me and asks, “What do you want?”

“Umm, I’ll just have a plain cheeseburger,” I tell the waitress.

Ben leans forward, resting both arms on the table. “I’ve wanted to talk to you. There’s something in me that wants to explain everything to you,”—he hesitates, eyes focusing on the table and not me—“but I can’t. I want to. And I know you want me to.” He drags his fingers through his dark hair. “My family would kill me if they knew,” he says, talking to himself more than me.

I’m afraid to say anything, afraid he might blow up at any moment.

And I have no clue what he’s talking about.

“Ben...”

“No, Candra, let me do this. I have to get this off my chest. It’s killing me that you don’t know. But I don’t know if you know what it is or not. I mean, you might already know.”

What a damn fruitcake.

“Know that your family is royally crazy? Know that your brothers made their point about staying away from your house? Know I screwed up when trying to make peace? Yes, I know all of these things. Is there anything else you want to add, or can we go back to being enemies?” I’m surprised at how fluid the words are once they’re spoken. I’ve had them building in my chest for a while, and I guess this is the right time.

His head is glued between his hands, elbows pinned to the table. I can’t help him. The only thing to do is wait until he’s ready to explain whatever is bothering him.

The waitress breaks the tension between us by setting our plates on the table.

Ben raises his head. “Eat up,” he says, choking the words out.

We eat in silence. I pick up a fry, nibbling on the end. I don’t even taste it. I try to think of something to start up a conversation, but epically fail. Glancing his way a few times doesn’t do anything—his eyes never meet mine. He just focuses on his food until he’s finished eating.

The waitress is back in no time to take our plates and slip Ben the check. He never acknowledges that she comes by, nor does he acknowledge the fact that we can leave.

“I can’t tell you why everything’s the way it is,” he says, measuring every word. His fingers roam to the bridge of his nose and squeeze. “Maybe some other time, when I know for sure,” he says, laying a twenty on top of the check.

I slide out of the booth. He walks ahead of me, and doesn’t wait for me to catch up. When we reach the parking lot, he abruptly turns and grabs me by both arms, lifting me onto the back of the BMW. He catches me by surprise.

His hands clutch my face—one on each side—and he says, “What I’m doing is for your own good. I’m so sorry. Sorry I couldn’t be there for you like I should’ve. Sorry that none of this can work out. It’s tragic that our families can’t live in peace. I never wanted any of this to end. Ever.”

I cock my head.

He brushes my cheek with his thumb. Then I feel it again—the spark, the miniature lightning. If he feels it, too, then he doesn’t do anything to show it.

His eyes aren’t the same black holes. They’re gentle this time.

His lips separate. He hesitates, and then meets me the rest of the way. The electricity is there, even stronger now. My mouth parts and I taste him for the first time. My mind reels with longing, the need to be his. It’s like the first memory I have of walking into English class and our eyes meeting—nothing in the world mattered then, like it doesn’t right now.

Our hands are slow at first, fumbling to grab hold of something. His hands run up my sides and stop short of my breasts, just as his tongue finds mine. I clutch the back of his hair and a moan escapes my lips.

I pull away. His mouth is on mine, our breath intermingling.

“Ben…” My voice is husky. I don’t recognize it.

“Candra.” His eyebrows furrow, and he plants a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I need to take you home.” His eyes betray themselves, seemingly tortured with emotions.

He lifts me to solid ground. I sway and he catches me. My cheek burrows into his cotton shirt. The muscles underneath are toned and rock solid. I have the sudden urge to run my hand over them, but restrain myself.

Carefully, he lifts my chin with one finger and says, “Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to go,” I whisper.

His mouth twitches and he stares at me for a couple of heartbeats. “I don’t want to either,” he finally says.

Reluctantly, I pull away and walk to the passenger side.

Ben lets out a long sigh as we pull out of the parking lot. Neither of us says anything on the way to my house. We’ve said enough through our actions.

“Listen, I…”

I lean over and place my index finger on his lips. “Don’t say anything. It’s all right. I understand everything.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that easy, Candra. There are plenty of things I want to tell you, but whether you would believe me or not is a different story. I want to be with you. You already know that. But what I’m trying to say is that…I…just…can’t be with you.”

I fall back against my seat. “What kind of things?”

“We can’t be together. It’s as simple as that.” His voice is lower, softer. He looks right through me while he spews his excuses. Why can’t he tell me?

“But you—” I begin, but don’t have a clue what I’m trying to say.

“Kissed you?” he finishes.

“Yes.” My voice is hoarse.

“Think of it as a first and last kiss.” His voice is quiet, calm, like he’s talking to himself.

My brain can’t wrap around what he tells me. I mean, I know he’s breaking up with me, but—

“You meant more to me than a stupid kiss, just so you know. It’s sad, really, that we can’t work this out. We could be the only people to stop this stupid war, and you choose their side. Everyone was right about you.” Tears well, threatening to spill down my cheeks at any second.

He turns his head and stares out the window. “Candra, we can’t do this anymore. We can’t pretend our families don’t hate each other. I’d love to put an end to this, but it’s not going to happen. Deep down, I think you know I’m right.”

I don’t know what to say. Didn’t Jana and Blake warn me about him? And I took up for him. Sometime between the last date and now, I’ve let my guard down, failing myself.

His head falls back against his seat, like he’s frustrated with me. With me. Like I’m the cause of all this. “You need to go.”

“But—”

“Get out, Candra,” he says through clenched teeth.

Somehow I make it out of his car and into the house, even though my legs are a sloppy mess. Everything spins. He was like a light to me at the end of the tunnel—bright and full of hope.

Now, nothing matters. We don’t matter. What I’ve hoped for all along is swept away like dirt under a rug. We’ll continue this war, unable to stop what happens next. I’m just another girl. Nobody special. What would I know about a war he’s been living far longer than me?

~*~

Later, I call Jana. I kind of dread what she might tell me. I mean, I’ve already been through enough today. And I have no clue as to what she’s talking about when she says “top secret”.

“Spill. Dish. Whatever it is you need to tell me, just get it off your chest,” I say, closing my bedroom door and collapsing on my bed.

“You don’t sound too thrilled,” she replies, her voice flat.

I pick at a couple of loose strings on my comforter. “I’m not, really. I’ve had a hell of a day.”

“Does that mean your little date with Ben didn’t go so well?” She doesn’t sound surprised.

“He basically said he doesn’t want to see me anymore. I mean, it’s whatever, right? We weren’t actually dating. He never asked me to be his girlfriend.” Am I trying to convince myself that we’re nothing? Didn’t he tell me we were just friends?

“Well, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I wish I could’ve warned you prior to him calling things off, so you’d have a heads-up,” she says. I can almost hear the cringe in her voice.

I silently wait. A million ideas run through my mind: Did his family find out about us? Did he and Lily get back together? Does he want to kill me?

She takes my silence as confirmation to continue. “I honed in on a conversation between Cameron, Ethan and Ben. They didn’t know I could hear.”

“Where was this?” I ask.

“Near the shop. I was outside talking to Blake on my cell phone, and I heard their voices. I stood in the crook of the door. Hopefully they didn’t see me through the display window.”

“What’d they say?” My heart thumped loudly against my ribcage; its rhythm pulsing through my head and fingertips.

“They were arguing. Ben wanted to take you out, and Cameron and Ethan warned him. They said they’d go to their parents if Ben tried taking you out again. Then they mentioned something about how your relationship had been going on for too long, that it was almost time for the reckoning to begin.”

I stare at the brown carpet. “Reckoning? What does that mean?”

“I have no idea, but it doesn’t sound good.” Jana’s voice trembles.

“So, they’re the ones keeping us from being together. You know, Ben acted like something bothered him tonight at dinner. He told me he wanted to be with me, but he couldn’t. I think it’s because of his family.”

Hope dives back into my heart.

“They’re beyond crazy. They’d probably kill him if he stayed with you, unless he was up to something. I hate to say it, but if he starts acting all lovey-dovey again, be leery,” she says.

“You mean, like, he’s spying for them?”

She hesitates before saying, “That’s exactly what I mean.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The hours crawl. No amount of wishing and hoping will bring him back.

I curl up under a throw on the sofa; its warmth leaving me tired. Nothing even remotely entertaining is on TV. I settle for an action flick about a woman avenging the death of her family.

The phone rings, startling me out of my distant thoughts.

“Hello?” I answer.

Heavy breathing follows on the opposite end.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Nobody answers. They simply hang up.

“Stupid people,” I murmur, placing the phone on its receiver. Before I can sit down, the doorbell chimes. I peep through the hole in the center. It’s Jana.

“Ready to go?” Jana asks after I open the door. Her face lights up.

“Where are you guys going?” I ask.

Her expression changes to hurt. “Hartford, remember? I told you about this last week. Besides, you have to get out and get some fresh air every now and then.”

I groan. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot. Yeah, let me leave Beth a note or something.” I rush to scribble something down on the magnetic pad on the fridge.

This is one of the many reasons why I’m glad to have Jana as a friend. I haven’t budged since moving here, contained within the city limits.

“Blake’s waiting in the car.” She skips to the passenger door.

Jana’s Altima has tinted windows, much like Ben’s BMW. Funny how I never noticed before. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but everything reminds me of him. Even the air I breathe leaves traces of his earthy cologne.

I grab my purse from upstairs, leave a note for Beth and pull on a jacket.

“Hurry up!” Jana yells from the car.

Locking the front door behind me, I make a dash for them.

Jana entertains us with a new band’s album. She cranks up the volume, and I let the music drown out any thoughts. I press my forehead against the window. Puffy, white clouds are scattered across their blue backdrop. Seeing them triggers memories of my childhood—soft grass, warm breezes and playgrounds. I close my eyes and smile for the first time in days.

Hartford is only ten minutes away, not nearly enough time for me to enjoy the ride. Traffic isn’t too horrific, either. We manage to lose our way only a few times—thanks to Jana. Blake’s face reddens like metal after it’s been laid out to be molded, except it’s getting brighter by the second. He pulls onto the shoulder and grabs the directions out of Jana’s hand.

“What is wrong with you?!” Jana yells.

“What is wrong with you? You can’t even get the right directions. How hard is that?”

Their bickering doesn’t stop for at least five more minutes. I try to think of other things, pretend I’m invisible.

Blake calls his mom to get directions, while Jana leans as far away from him as possible.

The lot where we park is almost full. Outside, Eddie’s doesn’t look very large, with its square, brick frame and neon pizza sign hanging in the window. But inside, the atmosphere is loud. Music belts from speakers on the walls. There are so many people, so many conversations. Orders are called from the front of the line to the cooks in the back area.

The noise fades into the background. I zone out, thinking about what it might be like if Ben was here. He’ll never know the fun we could’ve had together, never realize my heart’s capacity. My insides are slowly withering now. I’m preparing to wake up one day and grasp that there’s nothing left of me.

“Are you okay?”

Jana’s voice snaps me back into reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie.

We place our order at the counter. I’m suddenly not as hungry as I thought, so I just buy a soda. Jana and Blake give each other a look.

“Candra, you can have some of our pizza, if you’re short on cash,” Jana says.

“I’m not hungry,” I say, feeling like a total party pooper.

We grab a seat by one of the large windows in the front.

“Jana tells me you two have been slow at the store lately,” Blake says, attempting to start a conversation.

“Yeah, you could say that, I guess.”

“That sucks.”

I nod.

“I think she’s doing a fantastic job,” Jana gushes. “She’s a fast learner.”

A waitress brings their order out. The pizza is piled high with meat, and steam billows up a good five inches.

“You sure you don’t want some of this?” Jana taunts. She reaches for a slice.

“I’m sure,” I reply.

“Okay.”

“So, what are we doing after this?” I ask.

They look at each other and shrug.

“Don’t know. Do you have something in mind?” Blake asks.

“I figured with Halloween being tomorrow, there’s got to be some haunted attraction around here,” I say.

Blake nods. “You’re probably right. We could always ask someone.”

“Haunted stuff scares me,” Jana says through a mouth full of pizza.

I giggle. “It’s not real.”

“I know, but still.”

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, babe,” Blake says, leaning over and planting a kiss on Jana’s cheek. “Tell you what—I need to stop and get some gas before we head back, so I’ll just ask the cashier in the gas station.”

“Sounds good.” I smile.

When they finish off the last of the pizza, we get up to leave. Blake throws a fifty down on the table.

Since when is Blake loaded?

I pretend not to notice.

The gas station is only a couple of blocks up. Blake runs inside to pre-pay, and Jana stays in the car with me. He comes back with drinks and candy for all of us, quickly handing them to Jana so he can pump gas.

Jana gets out and speaks to him for a minute. She’s giddy when she gets back in the car. “The cashier told Blake that the nearest haunted attraction is some corn field maze down the road. It’s already getting dark now. I bet it’s even creepier in the dark. Reminds me of Children of the Corn or something,” she says, completely thrilled.

“I thought you were scared of haunted stuff?”

“Oh, I am. But Blake’s here, so it makes it that much better.” She winks.

“I didn’t want to go back to Charleston so soon,” I confess.

“I don’t blame you. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. Blake is too,” she says, making a slight gesture toward Blake outside. “But Ben’s a Conway, so it’s expected.”

I snort. “Yeah, he is.” Inhaling a deep breath, I say, “But hopefully things will look up so I can go back home.”

“I hope you don’t leave us. I’ll miss you a lot.”

“I’ll miss you guys too.” I shake my head and stare at my hands in my lap. “Never thought I’d say that about anybody here.”

“You still hate it?”

“Not as much.”

Jana giggles.

Blake comes around the front of the car and gets in. “Wasn’t too bad. Only thirty bucks to fill this thing up.”

“Seriously, Blake, this is not a thing. Treat this thing with more respect, since it gets you and me everywhere we need to go,” Jana scorns.

“It’s a damn car.” Blake huffs.

“It’s my damn car. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have anything to drive.”

“Well, maybe I’ll go find someone else, so I can drive her car.”

“Maybe you should…bum.”

Blake slyly grins. “At least I’m your bum.” He leans over and grabs Jana by the neck, pulling her toward him. She giggles when he kisses her.

“Okay, hi, um…I’m still back here,” I say.

They break apart.

“Sorry, we forget sometimes.” Jana blushes.

Neon green and pink signs with arrows mark the direction to the haunted maze. Parking is in a field. A mud-covered tractor pulling a hay wagon carries customers to the front gates. We decide to walk.

I see the maze up ahead. Corn stalks form walls at least eight feet high and I can’t see anything between them. The organizers must’ve placed something against the stems to keep us from seeing what’s ahead.

Staff members stand in a white booth at the front, taking money and tearing off ticket stubs. The place reminds me of a carnival, with the concessions and the glowing lights surrounding the area. Minus the rides and creepy carnies.

Blake pays for our tickets, and Jana and I grab a spot in line. The corn stalks stand nearly two feet taller than me. I can’t see how far back the maze actually goes, but I know it’s big enough to get lost in.

“This should be interesting,” Jana says.

“Why’s that?” I ask.

“Have you ever been in a corn field maze, let alone a haunted one?”

“Um, no. Not in reality, anyway.”

Jana’s eyebrows form a V. “Me either.”

I try to block out my dream—the one involving the corn field. Icy chills creep up my spine and run down my arms. I hate feeling this way. I know it’s just a nightmare—nothing like that can happen in reality. The back of my mind tells me otherwise; it warns me to leave. The stranger may have appeared outside my window, but there’s been no proof of him since then. So it could easily have been my half-asleep imagination playing tricks on my eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I murmur.

Jana and Blake gawk at me.

“What? Why?” Jana asks.

“I feel sick.”

“Don’t get the heebie jeebies now, Candra. We haven’t even gone inside yet.”

“You two go on. I’m going to take a walk.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Jana says, grabbing my arm.

My stomach twists and flips. Will this be like my dreams? Are my dreams somehow predicting my future?

We catch up to the people in front of us, and wait for clearance to enter the maze. A grizzly-looking man in a pirate costume sits on a platform as high as the tops of the stalks, next to the main entrance. He’s timing people as soon as they enter the maze, giving them a head start before the next few follow.

“You three are up next,” he tells us. He stares at the watch in his hand, counting down our time. “Arrrgh! It’s time. Don’t let the spooks get ya!” he exclaims in his best pirate accent. When he smiles, four of his upper front teeth are crowned in gold.

We carefully enter the maze. Though it’s dark outside, torches staked in the ground light the path. Actors still have places to hide in the shadows.

Jana and Blake hold hands, feeling their way along the scratchy walls. We arrive at two dead-ends before beginning our way through another series of twists and turns.

“It’s way too quiet,” Jana whispers.

“Yeah, it is,” I say.

We creep slowly through the maze, one foot in front of the other. The path splits into two directions. I’m trying to figure out which way to go when one of the actors comes after Jana. She screams and takes off. Blake is right there with her.

“Guys! Wait up!” I yell, running after them.

As soon as I round the corner where they disappear, I trip on wires taped down at ground level and hit the soil with a big oomph!

“C’mon, Candra!” I hear Jana yell from somewhere to my right.

“Where?”

“Over here!”

I follow the direction of her voice, but can’t find her. Every turn makes my stomach roll. I’m already in a dark area of the maze, so it’s that much worse. I’m not sure where the nearest torch is.

And I can’t find Jana and Blake.

Screaming is good. Screaming might help.

“GUYS, WAIT!”

Nothing.

The wind blows through the tops of the corn stalks. They sway in one direction, and then return to their former positions.

Breathe, Candra. You can do this on your own. Nobody’s going to hurt you, not even the actors. They can’t touch you. The stranger isn’t going to show up. There’s no way for him to even know you’re here.

I prepare myself for someone to jump out at any second, but they never do. I constantly hear cracks behind me and in front of me, but never see anything. My mind is playing tricks on me.

I’m not paying attention and get sliced on the cheek by a stalk. My fingers move to assess the damage. A tiny line of blood oozes from the scratch.

This is not happening to me.

At the brink of a potential meltdown, I scream, “Guys! Where are you?” one last time.

No one answers me.

I come upon a resting area. Benches are placed back-to-back in the center, and torches light the tiny spot. The maze leaves me with two options: take the path on the left side of the maze, or the path on the right side. One of them will lead me out.

But which one?

I can’t stand around all night deciding which one to take, so I go with option one—the left passage. One torch lights the entire path. It reminds me of a hallway. I follow it to the end, fighting myself the whole way. I can do this. I really can. No turning around and going back, even though the entrance is near. Jana and Blake can’t be too far ahead.

The hall-like entrance opens up to yet another small area—a dead-end. The tiny space has room for one bench, which is occupied. I can’t see who sits there, because it’s so dark. My eyes haven’t adjusted, and the moon, which was bright earlier, has lost its intensity behind the cloud cover.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I’m so glad you’re here, Candra,” someone says ahead of me.

Fear freezes me in place. My heart pounds so quickly that I believe it will beat its way out of my chest at any second.

His voice sounds familiar, though it’s too dark and gruff for me to recognize.

“Come. Have a seat by me.” The man pats the empty space beside him.

“I—I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I stutter, surprised I can form a sentence.

The man doesn’t move or speak.

“How do you know my name?” I ask.

“I know lots of things—things you don’t think anyone knows about you.”

“Who are you?”

“Now, where’s the fun in that, if I just told you who I am or what I want?” His voice drawls.

My heart beats faster than before, if that’s possible. Every one of my senses tells me to turn around and run for my life, screaming the whole way. But I can’t move. It’s like my feet are rooted into the ground.

“Are you not going to sit with me?” the man asks. “It’s very rude to decline something you’ve been offered.”

“It’s also rude to not introduce yourself,” I blurt before I can stop myself.

“Ah, well…” he trails off, clearing his throat. “Candra, it seems we’ve come to an impasse. Neither of us wins, so where does that leave us?” A smile lingers in his voice.

“I think I need to go now. I’ll forget this ever happened,” I choke. I don’t realize how tightly my fists are clenched, until I feel the pin prick caused by my fingernails digging into my skin.

Then he laughs. Not a whole-hearted laugh, but one that holds evil.

“I’m afraid you can’t run from me, Candra. I know where you live, where you work. I’m aware of Randy and Beth, and where they work. Those late night shifts might kill them one of these days.” He chuckles.

My throat swells. “What is it that you want? Please, don’t hurt them,” I whisper, holding back tears.

“It’s only a matter of time, and I will kill all of you. That’s what I ultimately want, and I’m not the only one.”

I grab a handful of hair in each hand, closing my eyes, praying this isn’t really happening. “You’re not real. You’re only a figment of my screwed up imagination.” My voice is raspy. “Go away,” I chant over and over again.

But he doesn’t. He sits there, laughing.

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m not part of your imagination. I’m part of your dreams. But I’m there because I wanted to be there, so you knew of me. I warned you to leave, and you didn’t listen. Now, I’m afraid I must handle this myself.” He says it all so nonchalantly, like killing people doesn’t have consequences.

So, this is it. I’ll fight for my life and for those around me.

I teeter back and forth, my fists still balled at my sides. I’m ready to run.

“Why do you want me dead?” I ask.

“Because you exist,” he replies calmly, without thinking about it.

I wince. “When are you going to kill me?”

The faint outline of the man shrugs. “It may be now. It may be five years from now. But I will kill you.”

My body shakes from fear, or maybe it’s adrenaline. Without hesitating a second longer, I turn and run the opposite way.

I will live.

I make it back to the small resting area, back to the opposite passageway. My legs are propelled by something else. I’ve never run so fast in my life. My lungs feel like they might burst into flames at any moment.

“I hear you, Candra. You can’t hide from me.”

Bile rises in my throat.

If you don’t run, he’ll kill you.

Right, left, right again. The maze makes me dizzy, jolting my legs into constant stops with all the twists and turns. Actors jump out at me, but they don’t aren’t as terrifying anymore. I take a quick right and face a dead-end. When I turn around, I smack into something hard, and tall.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The thing I bump into doesn’t budge. My head rises, my eyes search for a face—something I know. But I can’t see him. The moon is still cloaked by clouds.

Please don’t kill me now, I pray.

His hands latch onto my shoulders. I wriggle and squirm in his grasp. He falls backward to the ground. For a moment I wonder how it happens, but push all thoughts aside, except one.

I have to get out of here.

Jumping over him, I think I make it, but he grabs my leg and pulls. I fall to the ground with a thud.

“You can’t get away that easily,” he says.

I kick and thrash with everything in me. One of the kicks lands square on his face. I don’t know what exactly happens, but it’s like I electrocute him or something. His face ignites with sparks and he shrinks back in pain, letting go of my ankle.

I’m free.

The pattern of the maze continues. Right, left, left. Right again.

Then I see it—an opening, the exit. The pounding of feet echoes in my ears. He’s close, and fast.

My legs ache, my lungs burn, and I’m wheezing.

I make it through. There’s a clearing on the other side, full of people.

“Candra, we were so worried about you! You were there with us one minute, and the next you weren’t—” Jana stops in mid-sentence.

I bend over, trying to catch my breath. My body throbs in pain.

“Are you okay?” Blake asks.

Jana rubs my back with her hand. “We’re so sorry. We didn’t mean to leave you like that.”

“We need to get out of here,” I say, my voice hoarse.

When I glance up, the crowd outside the exit stares at me. I pant, catching my breath.

“You’re bleeding,” Blake says. His thumb brushes the cut on my cheek.

“That’s the least of my worries right now,” I say, finally able to stand straight.

“Okay, let’s go,” Jana says hesitantly. She glances at Blake, but neither of them questions me.

Every few steps, I turn to look at the exit. Will he come out and show himself? Will someone else be forced to face him in the maze?

Nobody has a clue what happened to me. Nobody will believe me, either.

Buttered popcorn and a hint of something tart hit my nostrils. I see parents with children in line at concessions. The kids will think pretzels, popcorn and cotton candy are the best thing about tonight. A few fellow classmates wait for their chance to enter and be scared by nothing more than crazy actors. Couples walk with arms looped around each other, sipping hot chocolate.

He’s not after them. He’s after you.

Everything reels in slow motion. My mind tells me I need to warn everyone. My heart tells me I have to warn family first.

Jana’s car takes forever to get to. I check the backseat, just to be on the safe side. There’s nobody, of course. Jana and Blake gape at me, but still don’t say anything. They’ll think I’m a nut if I tell them.

I don’t realize how badly I’m shaking until I sit down. Thoughts swirl and buzz loudly in my head. He’ll come after me and my family. He might even go for Jana and Blake. If I don’t do something, then it’ll be my fault. I can’t live through this, knowing innocent people died.

Blake creeps through the endless sea of people. He eventually pulls onto the main road. That’s when I see him, the stranger. He stands at least one hundred yards away, at the edge of the forest, sucking me into another guilt trip. If I don’t do something now, this will never end. I’m the one who caused this trouble, and I’m the one to finish it.

In that heartbeat, I realize something—it’s never been about them. It’s about me.

I yell, “Stop the car!”

Blake slams the brake pedal with his foot and nearly causes my head to crash with the back of Jana’s seat.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, turning around to look at me.

“I have something I have to do. If I’m not back in five minutes, call the police,” I say, pushing open my door and jumping out. I take off in a run, barely making it over a wooden fence. Past the fence and a scanty amount of trees, I’m greeted by an open field.

I stop halfway to catch my breath.

The figure doesn’t move. He patiently waits. Rigidly, he turns on his heels and disappears when he sees me head in his direction again.

I’ve only thought my nerves were frayed before, during the fight with Cameron, and with his mom. But this doesn’t compare. Every tip of my body has unraveled, feeling like I’ll be swept away in the next breeze. My stomach clenches. I think I might vomit, but resist the temptation.

I near the tree line and know he’s watching.

I don’t want to die, but there are no other options.

“For my family,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut and stepping into the forest.

His laugh stops me. “For your family,” he spits. “How touching. But where is that family of yours now, when you need them the most?”

“Please leave them out of this.” I lower my eyes, staring at a tree. Maybe if I look pitiful, he’ll change his mind. Not likely, though.

He tsks me. “See, I can’t do that. When I kill you and your family, the ground I walk on will be worshipped. You’re the only thing stopping me.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” I plead. “We can talk this out. Maybe there’s something of mine that you want.”

“I have everything I want. I need you to be dead. You must know that it’s your power. We can’t allow you to live to see your eighteenth birthday. Surely you know that by now.”

Courage builds in my stomach. My fists tighten at my sides. “Even if you kill me, you won’t get away with it.”

“When I’m done with you, I’ll finish off your friends waiting in the car, and then your family.” His body lowers into a pouncing stance. His fingernails chip off and long claws grow in their place. He snarls. Razor-sharp fangs sprout from his gums and lengthen past his gum line. But it’s his eyes that take the breath out of my body; they glow yellow, even under the shaded canopy of trees and hazy moonlight.

The same golden glow that emanates from the tree line outside Randy and Beth’s house. The same eyes that crawl into my nightmares, leaving traces behind long after I wake.

He’s a werewolf. I can’t outrun him. So, I have no choice but to fight.

He lunges at me and I somehow leap out of the way. He hits the base of a tree and yelps, which only sends him into a rage.

He darts for me, then swats. This time, I’m not so lucky. My right cheek bashes into the tree a few feet away, knocking the breath out of me. I crumple to the ground. A bitter copper flavor trickles over my tongue.

My eyes spin around, trying to focus. I’m positive I have a concussion. Everything’s so blurry. He says something to me, but his voice echoes, making it unclear as to what he’s talking about.

Piercing pain radiates from my back. I open my mouth to scream, but air has left my lungs. Tears pour out of my eyes and cascade down my cheeks. The pain sears so badly I can’t open my mouth to scream. Each intake of breath burns.

When will I take my last gulp of air? Minutes from now? Seconds?

He paces back and forth in front of me. With my eyesight failing, he becomes two then one. I know I’m about to die. There isn’t a white light ahead, only sheer frozen air cloaking my body, and the open gashes newly-created on my back.

He soars toward me. I close my eyes tightly. I’m going to be eaten alive.

But it doesn’t come.

Peeking through one eye, I see a werewolf on top of the one who tried to murder me. I’m too aghast to notice the one sitting beside me. It growls at the two fighting, but turns to look at me. Something in its eyes tells me everything’s going to be okay.

One of the werewolves lets out a long cry. The werewolf next to me whips its head around. My Protector stands over the other, lifting its head and releasing a triumphant howl.

The injured werewolf staggers off into the woods somewhere. My Protector gives me and the werewolf beside me a look—a knowing look. The one beside me whines and My Protector grunts. They’re talking to each other, I think. They glance at me, and then run off into the forest.

“Wait!” I do my best to call, but my voice is raspy and weak. “Don’t leave me here,” I whisper. The pain blistering from my back keeps me in place. I can’t move, even if my life depends on it.

I fade in and out of conscious. For how long—I’m not sure. I hear a voice in the distance. Someone calls my name over and over again.

“Candra, are you okay?!” It’s Jana. “What’s this?” she asks, surveying my back. “Oh, God. We have to get you to a hospital.” She pulls out her cell phone and dials 911.

I’m barely awake. Between the cold and the hurt, my body goes numb. I drift off into an uncomfortable sleep. I don’t remember the sirens, or the flashing lights. I barely remember being carted through a white hallway.

“We’re here if you need us,” Jana says somewhere in the distance. I try opening my eyes, but everything’s so out of focus.

“Candra? I’m Dr. Botolf. Can you hear me?” a man asks.

I crack my eyes open, but can’t open my mouth. It’s so dry. I will do anything for a drink right now. I’m lying in a bed with sheets that make me itch, IVs in my veins, and I’m wearing a hospital gown.

Dr. Botolf pats my shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Whatever animal attacked you, we’ll be on the lookout for it.”

He’s only after me, not everyone else.

Metal clinks, and the curtain whooshes open. I can barely make out Beth’s outline.

“Oh, Candra, sweetie, you’ll be all right. They’re going to keep you overnight and release you tomorrow. But we’re going to stay here with you,” Beth says. She rubs my arm.

I weakly nod.

My vision becomes fuzzy again. Sleep is the only thing I can do.

The next thing I know, a nurse wakes me for breakfast. She elevates me to a sitting position.

“Here you go, hon,” she says, placing the tray in my lap. She disappears through the curtain.

Beth stirs in the chair next to my bed. “Oh, you’re awake! How do you feel? Better?” she asks.

“Yeah, a little bit. I’m kind of sore,” I say, slowly pulling myself forward to eat.

“I don’t doubt that.” She raises her eyebrows. “Candra, I know it might be too soon, but did you get a look at who it was?”

I shake my head. “Never could see his face. It’s almost as if he’s just a black mist.” I focus on picking at a few scrambled eggs with my fork. “What is he?” I ask, looking at Beth.

She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard of anything like this in all my one hundred and fifty-two years.”

My eyes bulge. “I didn’t realize you were so…old.”

“It’s not something I run around telling everybody.” She manages a smile. Standing, she walks to the window, folding her arms across her chest. “Did he say what he wanted?”

I hesitate on replying. “Yes.”

“Well, what is it?”

I take a bite of bacon and wait until I swallow to answer. “He wants me dead, along with you and Randy, possibly Jana and Blake.”

Beth cusses under her breath. “Figures. Most of those that oppose us are Conway followers. It could be any one of them.”

Jana and Blake slide through the curtain.

“You’re awake?” Jana asks, astonished. “Oh, I’m so glad! I thought you weren’t going to make it.” She runs to the bed, leans over the side rails and gives me a hug.

I briefly smile. “Guys, whatever he is, he’s coming after us. I don’t know how to stop him. Apparently the two werewolves do.”

“Werewolves?” Beth asks. Her eyebrows crease and her mouth parts, like she’s about to say something. She hesitates before speaking again. “Sweetie, you did hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you were just seeing things.”

“No, I know what I saw. I’m telling you I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for the two werewolves that saved me,” I argue. I push my tray aside, suddenly losing my appetite.

Jana groans and steps forward. “Candra, there’s something we need to tell you.” She motions toward Blake.

No freakin’ way.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“We’re the ones who saved you,” Jana proudly says. Even her chin lifts when she says the words.

I feel like I have the upper hand. “I kinda guessed as much when I saw you and Blake in the woods. Naked.” Yeah, I totally just went there. Maybe it’s the meds…

Jana blushes, like I just revealed a deep, dark secret. Probably the only way she and Blake spend quality alone time. “We knew what you were, but we debated whether we should tell you about us,” she says. Her mouth cinches into a crooked frown. “We thought it was best not to put more problems in your head. You’ve had enough to deal with lately.”

Beth interjects. “Either way, I’m glad you were with her. I owe you.”

“No way! We’re just glad we could help. If we hadn’t shown up when we did…” Blake trails off.

“My friends are werewolves,” I say, then giggle. More to myself than to anyone in the room. They’re too busy talking about who might’ve attacked me to notice my comment.

“Did you see who it was or recognize their scent?” Beth asks.

“Nothing that I’ve smelled before,” Blake says, shaking his head. “The whole thing was wrong, and totally out of place. I’ve never seen or smelled anything like it—dark and heavy with magic.” He looks away, deep in thought.

Jana redirects her attention to me. “You know how Blake and I have been exhausted lately, and miss school? Well, we’ve smelled something strange in the air, something shady. We’ve located some cult dealings north of here. We have a spot where we stop and watch them, but we won’t go any closer. The stuff they produce”—she shakes her head—“shouldn’t be legal, in any form—human or otherwise.”

“I suspect the Conways might have something to do with this,” Beth practically spews.

“They might be using magic, or are in with that cult somehow,” Jana suggests. “I have no idea why they’d stoop so low.”

“They loathe us. With Candra in town, it’s more competition. By law, we settled first, so our family has more power. They believe the more Followers they get will somehow change the Committee’s views, so they might actually change the law,” Beth explains. Her arms fold across her chest and she chews the inside of her cheek.

“What Committee?” I ask.

Beth scoffs. “Candra, we can’t just run about creating chaos wherever we go. There are laws set in place. If we don’t abide, we answer to the Committee.”

“Too bad the Conways are friends with some of the members,” Blake says, rolling his eyes.

“I wish I could help you guys with all of this. I’m so useless right now,” I mumble, staring down at my lap.

Jana takes my hand in hers. “It’s all right, Candra. Really, it is. We managed before you came, and we’ll manage until your eighteenth birthday.”

I give her a half-assed smile. “Doesn’t matter. If they’re dead set on this, then they’ll do everything they can to stop me from transforming.”

“It must suck,” Jana blurts.

“The killing part?” I ask.

Her face seems to lose its elasticity. “No, the fact that your ex-boyfriend is also your enemy, who might, or might not, want to kill you.”

“Never thought of it that way,” I murmur.

Jana squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound rude. I know you really cared for him.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Part of me still does.

“But, Candra…” she stares at the IV in my arm, the itchy nightgown I’m wearing, and finishes by saying, “look what he’s done to you.”

Before the words leave her mouth, I’m shaking my head, disagreeing. “It’s not him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t either. His family may want me dead, but not my—not Ben.” Immediately, I drop my gaze to my hands. Jana doesn’t push the subject further. She and Blake say they’ll wait outside, until I’m released. They risk their lives for me, and the only conclusion I can come to is that Ben’s not a part of it. What’s wrong with me?

After being discharged, I’m forced to sit in a wheelchair until we reach the car. I ride with Beth, and Jana and Blake follow us.

Most of the ride home is quiet. I can’t stop fidgeting.

“You okay?” Beth asks, glancing over at me.

“I’m fine,” I lie, propping my arm against the door and resting my head on my palm.

“We’re almost there.”

The gravel road doesn’t seem as menacing as usual. The tree branches don’t reach out like they used to, but each time I look at the tree trunks, I see faces. They still tell me to turn around and go back.

I should’ve listened.

Now I’m stuck in this mess. One I can’t clean up on my own. There’s no way I can move off to avoid my troubles this time. I must face them as they come.

“Have you told Mom and Dad?” I ask.

Beth shakes her head. “I’m leaving that up to you. It’s your place to let them know what happened, and what might happen. They’d love to hear your voice.”

“I should call them,” I say, suddenly feeling nervous. Mom will probably flip out. Dad won’t be far behind her. I sigh.

We pull into the circular driveway. Beth grabs her purse and jumps out, strolling around to the passenger side door. Blake stands beside me within a matter of seconds, almost scaring the daylights out of me.

“Here, give me your arm,” he says. He loops my arm around his neck and wraps his arm around my side, helping me to the house.

I make it to the living room, and slump into one of the chairs. Beth, Jana and Blake sit on the couch, across from me.

Moments pass before I decide to break the silence.

“So, basically they want me dead because our families hate each other,” I say.

“It’s not just that,” Beth says. “There’s more to it.”

“Like what?”

She props her elbows on her knees. “Whoever this is wants your gift, and wants you to be gone forever. The only way to do that is to—”

“Kill me,” I finish. My throat tightens, making it harder to swallow.

Beth nods. “I’m at a loss. I never thought it would come to this.”

I watch her carefully, unable to grasp what she’s talking about.

“Granted,” she continues, “I knew they hated us. What I mean is: I didn’t know it would go this far. Why not me? Why not Randy? We’re the ones who started this.”

“We can pick Candra up after school, and even for work. Whatever it takes,” Jana says. Her eyebrows knit together, and she looks exhausted, but I know she’s happy to help.

“Thank you. That means a lot. I need to discuss everything with Randy and see what our plan of action is. Mainly, it’ll be keeping you alive for a few more months,” she tells me.

Blake and Jana leave not long after our conversation. They want to tell their parents, in case we need reinforcements. I don’t want this to turn into a full-out war. I just want to stay alive.

Beth helps me to bed. I can’t sleep. Images from the past few days flow through my mind. Everything flashes before me—family, friends. I can’t lose them. They’re all I have.

My biggest fear is that this evil person will murder us in our sleep, and then walk away like nothing ever happened. I know I have to stay strong, but the reality of it is…I’m terrified.

So, I do the only thing that comes to mind.

I call Mom.

“Hello?” the voice answers on the other side.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Baby? Is that you?” Her voice is an octave higher than normal.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Beth says you’re doing well. I didn’t want to bother you. Your father and I—we’re ready for you to come home. We’ve talked about it, and we’ve decided you’re doing great, so we’ll pull you out during Christmas break and bring you home. We wanted it to be a surprise, but I feel like telling you now. I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” she gushes.

“Really?” For a moment I’m caught up in the surprise, but then reality sets in.

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs.

I shake my head. I have to suck it up and tell her. “Listen, something’s happened that I think you should know about. Beth says I needed to be the one to tell you.”

“Candra, have you let your grades slip again? Your father won’t be pleased,” she scolds.

“No, uh, this is worse.” I cringe.

“What have you done?”

“It wasn’t me this time. I swear. Okay, just hear me—”

Mom’s voice cuts me off. She speaks to someone in the background, which is more than likely Dad. “Yes, she’s in trouble again. We’ll have to rethink this whole bringing her home now. Candra,” she says, getting back on the line, “your father is getting on the phone too.”

The receiving end swishes and sways, as Mom tries muffling the phone.

“What have you done now, kiddo? Your mother and I were getting good reports from Beth. What changed?” Dad asks.

“I almost got killed last night,” I reveal.

Silence greets me.

“By who?” Mom’s voice shakes.

“We don’t know. We’re still trying to figure it out. He’s a werewolf, I know that much.”

Mom gasps loudly. “Bill, we have to do something about this,” she tells Dad.

“Tell Randy and Beth we’ll be loading the car tonight and driving up there,” Dad says. “Hang tight until then.”

“Okay,” I say.

“I love you, baby,” Mom says.

“I love you, too,” I say.

“Be careful, kiddo. Love you,” Dad says.

“Love you, too.”

After they hang up, I toss the cordless phone on my bed beside me. The delicate chain around my neck twists with each new turn of the locket. I think about how my parents will feel if something happens to me, Randy and Beth. And Jana and Blake—they don’t deserve any of this. More importantly, how I’m too young to die, and how there won’t be any second chances.

~*~

Early the next day, Jana arrives to pick me up for work.

“All ready?” I hear a hint of pep in her voice. She smiles, but I know it’s fake. She’s trying not to think about all of this as much as me.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I reply.

“Anything new?” she asks once we’re safely in her car.

“My mom and dad are on their way up.” I pretend to pick at a hangnail.

“Well, that’s good. I told my parents last night, too.” She starts the car and throws it into drive, coasting down the long, gravel path.

“What’d they say?” I look up at her.

She keeps her eyes on the road, but replies, “That they knew one day it’d come to this. That the Conways will do everything to get rid of those who don’t follow them.”

“I really hope none of this ends badly. I don’t want to be at war with another pack, just because they want to rule the city.”

“Me either,” Jana says, shaking her head. She frowns. “I don’t want us to be separated. I’m going to talk to Livia and see if she’ll let Blake stay with us when we work. I’ll tell her something crazy, like I have a psycho ex-boyfriend or something.”

I grin, glancing at Jana. “Think she’ll buy it?”

“God, I hope so.”

We park behind the store in the employee parking lot. The shop sits on a corner, so two main roads run on each side. Jana and I walk briskly to the boutique, trying not to be obvious.

“I should’ve made some coffee this morning,” I say, making a disgusted face. “I feel like a zombie.”

Jana giggles. “Since when do you drink coffee?”

“Well, I don’t like it black—that’s for sure.” I lean against the display window while Jana fetches her keys.

“Hey,” I say, pointing toward the glass, “when did these get fixed?”

“Oh, the windows? A couple of days after our incident. Turns out Livia totally bought the idea of us getting robbed and assaulted.”

“Really? I’ve never known of a burglar to bust big ass windows. Usually they keep it simple so they don’t attract attention. I’m surprised she didn’t think of that.”

She shrugs. “You never know with her. Want to grab some coffee and muffins? We could go right up the street to Corner Delights, if you want.” She stops searching through her purse.

“Actually, I could eat something. I haven’t eaten much the past few days.” I pat my belly in response.

“They have really good chocolate chip muffins. You have to try them,” she prattles.

Corner Delights is a block away, on the other corner. There aren’t many people in line, so we patiently wait our turn. Glass cake stands brim with cookies and muffins of all kinds—blueberry, chocolate, cranberry, apple. My mouth waters just looking at them.

I take Jana’s advice and buy a chocolate chip muffin. It’s sweet, but not so sweet that it will send me into a sugar rush this early. The coffee helps me wake up. I sip its bitter flavor, slightly burning the tip of my tongue. We sit at one of the tables in the shop, quickly downing our breakfasts.

“I know we’re supposed to stay safe and all, but this was so good,” Jana says, standing up to leave.

I get a refill on my coffee, carefully measuring out creamer and sugar packets to go in it.

“I agree. We’ll have to do this again soon,” I say, placing the lid back on my cup. She doesn’t know that I’m going home soon. I don’t have the heart to tell her. Not yet.

We stroll back up the street to Livia’s.

Jana digs in her purse for the keys again. “Ugh. I can’t find them. I swear I should start shopping in the luggage department.”

I laugh. Something I haven’t done in a while. There hasn’t been anything worth laughing about…

“Stop laughing at me,” Jana gripes. “It’s true. I can’t find anything—oh, here they are!” The keys jingle as she pulls them out of her purse.

“Okay, for future reference—leave them out after we park your car,” I say.

“Good idea.” Her lips form a straight line as she nods. She sticks the key in the lock and stops. “Candra…” she says, drawing out each syllable.

I have no idea what’s wrong with her. It’s like she’s frozen in place, only her lips are able to move. Even her hand is still stuck in the same position, holding the key.

“What?”

“Get behind me,” she orders.

Without a second thought, I obey, scooting as close to the door as I can.

And that’s when I see all three brothers walking toward us. If anything happens, Jana can’t fight them alone. Oh, where are you Blake?

Ben’s eyes lock with mine and for a moment, we’re back in our place where no one exists but us. I can’t read him, though. It’s like whatever was there before has completely disappeared.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” Cameron begins, interrupting my obvious show of affection. “I thought I might find you two here. I heard you got hurt the other night, Candra. Sorry to hear that.”

“Like hell you are,” I hiss.

Jana holds out her arms, like she can block anything they try to do.

“You three need to leave. Now,” she tells them. “We’re not doing this here.”

“It’s such a beautiful morning. I’d love to ruin it,” Ethan says.

“I’m sure you would,” Jana says. “But today is not the day.”

“Who said we’re going to do anything? Maybe we’re just out for a morning walk.” Cameron shrugs, glancing up at the sky. “The air’s so fresh.”

Jana remains in a protective stance.

Cameron chuckles, and then looks at me. His eyes turn into black pits. “You and I, on the other hand, have unfinished business.”

“Just because I kicked your ass doesn’t mean I want us to continue fighting. Grow up,” I say, my voice seething with rage.

“That’ll never happen.” He laughs menacingly. “We were born into this battle, Candra. Neither you nor I can stop it. One day we’ll end it.”

“Is that why you had someone try to kill me?!” I yell.

“Candra,” Jana says through gritted teeth, trying to cut me off.

“Whoa. Someone tried to kill you?” Ben asks.

I’m so pissed at Cameron that I forget Ben’s standing behind him. His hands are snugly tucked into his front pockets.

“Yeah, someone tried killing me. Two nights ago in Hartford. One of your Followers.”

“Candra, I had no idea,” Ben says. His eyes plead with mine.

“If Jana and Blake hadn’t saved me, I wouldn’t be standing here right now,” I choke. My throat constricts, forcing me to hold back tears.

“So it was—” Cameron starts, then stops himself.

Jana turns her head from Ben to Cameron faster than a human can. She lets out a low snarl. “Get out of my sight,” she growls.

“Go to Hell, bitch,” Ethan says.

Without thinking twice, I take the lid off my cup and throw the scalding hot coffee in Ethan’s face. He screams and flails, wiping it away as fast as he can. As the coffee runs down his face, something like makeup rolls with it, like he’s wearing foundation to cover something.

And that’s when I see it—the red shoe-print marking. It crosses his forehead and stretches down to his chin. I glance at my feet, my shoes, knowing instantly where it came from.

Me.

Jana glances over her shoulder. Her eyes expand. She returns her gaze to Ethan.

“What just happened?” I whisper, barely able to force the words to leave my mouth.

Jana murmurs only one word.

“Magic.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I hold my breath, waiting for something utterly catastrophic to happen right here on the streets of West Hartford. But, despite the fact that we’re in a stand-off—and completely unequipped—a signal of hope pierces the malicious air between Jana and me, and the Conways.

Livia strolls up, gawking at the two different alliances.

“What on earth is going on here?” she asks.

Cameron smirks. I know what he’s thinking: Your ass is saved. For now. “We were just going for a walk, saw Candra and Jana, and thought we’d say hi.”

Livia doesn’t look convinced. “This early?”

Ethan wipes the remaining coffee residue off his face. “Early bird catches the worm,” he quickly responds. Too quick. And I don’t like his tone—something implies that he’s not talking about worms.

“You boys will catch your death of cold standing out here. Better find some place warm.” She sighs. “Jana, unlock this door. Don’t just stand there.”

Jana eases up on her stance in front of me, unable to redirect her eyes from the Conways. She fumbles around in her purse for the store keys.

“Ah, here they are,” Jana says. She shoves one in the deadbolt, turns. The other key slides into the bottom lock, making a click before the door opens.

I slither in behind Livia, and Jana stands in place to affirm the Conways don’t have a trick up their sleeves.

“C’mon, Jana,” I whisper, tugging on her brown, fur-lined jacket.

She continues to stare at the boys. “Why don’t you guys take Livia’s advice and warm up?” She dramatically rubs her arms like she’s freezing. “I know how much you love coffee, Ethan.”

He stomps forward. I take a step toward Jana, unsure as to what I could possibly prevent from happening. To my relief, Cameron latches on to Ethan’s shirt and pulls him back.

“Another time, ladies. Another time,” Cameron says.

After his comment, they continue their stroll down the street like nothing happened. Fleetingly, I catch Ben mouth the words, I’m sorry, as he passes by. I don’t know if I can believe him. A month ago, maybe. But a month ago I was a totally different girl.

“Can you believe that?” Jana foams through clenched teeth. “The nerve of those asshats! And I thought I’d seen it all.”

“Really? Because I was under the impression they always pulled this lame shit,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “They do. But to be so obvious about it? Never have they done that before.”

“Eh, well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Girls! What are you doing just standing up there?” Livia claps her hands, like we have the attention span of a five-year-old. “I need you two to come help me pull these boxes out of storage, so we can get the winter clothes on the shelves. Winter is just around the corner, you know.”

Jana plants her hands firmly on her hips. “And what makes you so disqualified to do this task yourself?”

I gawk at her. Since when did she grow balls?

Livia holds up both hands and wiggles her glossy, red-tipped fingers. “Manicure yesterday.”

Jana scoffs. “Oh, of course.”

I trail behind them to the storage room. Even though I should be focusing on work at the moment, I think about what Jana said, about the Conways never being that brazen about their antics. It’s because of me. Since I moved here, I’ve done nothing but stir up a boiling hot cauldron of trouble.

I have got to get out of this town.

~*~

“I haven’t been completely honest to everyone,” I say on the way home from work. Jana’s dropping me off. Just in case.

“About what?” Her face scrunches.

“Everything. I feel like I’m hiding something I’m not.”

Jana takes her hands off the wheel for a split second and holds them in the air. “Whoa. What’s with the riddle?” she asks, replacing them in their rightful spot.

I blurt, “This isn’t me. The old me would’ve punched them in the face back there. The old me would’ve stood up to Ethan in the corn maze, even if he was under some sort of…influence. Look, I know it sounds crazy, but that day I bumped into you guys at the book store, well, it wasn’t coincidence. I was given a clue.”

“From who?” Jana slows the car as we pull into the driveway.

“Would you believe me if I told you it was Maggie?” I cringe.

She hits the brakes. “Maggie actually helped you?”

“I know. It’s weird.”

“She must really like you. She never does that.” She stares through the windshield with a vacant expression.

“I’m as surprised about it as you are. But there’s a reason she wanted me there, even if she did beat around the bush about it. There are books about magic. Hell, the whole freakin’ store is loaded with books about it. I bought a couple so I wouldn’t look suspicious, and so I’d know what we’re up against.”

I bite my lip, waiting for her response.

When she doesn’t answer, I say, “Jana, talk to me.”

“That’s it! That’s what we’re missing.”

“What?”

“Maggie knows. Of course she knows. What am I saying? She knows everything. She’s an Ancient. That’s to be expected,” she rambles.

“Wait. Slow down.”

Jana turns to look at me. “Maggie gave you the clue, so you could do with it as you wish. She didn’t help either side, really. If you hadn’t gone to the bookstore, then you would never have known about the magic. But, since you did go, you’re fully aware.”

“I knew it existed before I went,” I murmur.

“What?”

“She showed me.”

Jana shakes her head. “We’re in too deep. We have to tell Randy and Beth. They’ll know what to do.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with the Conways?”

“I think it has everything to do with them. Maggie sent you there to prove something. Maybe they’re the ones Blake and I sniffed out near here.” She parks the car in front of the house. “Whoever it is, though, has to be stopped.”

We bail out of the car and jog to the front door. Inside, Beth’s preparing dinner. Randy sits on a bar stool by the kitchen island.

“Do I know you?” I ask him.

He grins, flashing me a set of almost-perfect teeth. “I should be asking you the same. Or maybe I should kick you out…stranger.”

I smile, but notice Jana’s features are dead serious. “Um, we need to talk to you guys,” I say.

Beth turns around from the stove, equally giving Jana and me glances. “About what?”

Jana steps forward. “We think the Conways might be using magic. We ran into them today, outside the store. Candra threw a cup of coffee on Ethan’s face, which revealed her shoe print marking.”

I chime in. “The same shoe print I used to kick the shadow man in the corn maze.”

Jana continues. “Anyway, so that cult near here has to be connected to the Conways. Maggie—” Jana starts, but hesitates by looking at me.

I finish for her. “I went to visit Maggie the other day. I wanted to see if there was a way to stop this mess. Of course she said there wasn’t. But she did warn me that there are greater things than this battle we fight, things I can’t possibly comprehend just yet. Then she showed me magic, and gave me a clue that directed me to a bookstore.”

Surprisingly, Beth is calm through this.

“I’m sorry. I lied to you and everyone else. I thought maybe I could be the one to fix this. I stirred up old dust when I came here, so it’s my place to settle it.”

Beth speaks. “I know where you’ve been, who you’re with and what you’re doing—most of the time. There are some areas Watchers refuse to go to.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about them,” I mumble.

“Candra, I’m not upset with you.” She takes my hand in hers. “I know you’re curious, and I know you’re trying to help. But the best thing for you to do is to stay safe until your eighteenth birthday. I’m fully aware that the Conways have dabbled in magic before. It’s nothing new.”

“But don’t you get it? Ethan’s not eighteen yet, which means he couldn’t have turned into a werewolf in the forest.”

“Yes, he can. I’m afraid they’ve done it for so long, they can do just about anything. With magic, it’s like anything else—the more you practice the easier it becomes. But also, the desire to learn bigger spells.”

“Even disguise spells?” A long, bone-tingling chill tiptoes up my spine.

Beth nods.

Jana takes a seat on the bar stool next to Randy, who’s been very quiet through this conversation. I’m sure he knows. Beth wouldn’t keep anything from him.

“This is too much,” Jana says, rubbing the sides of her forehead. “I mean, first of all, why would they transform into something different? We know they hate her, but why wouldn’t they show their faces?”

“They’re toying with me, invading my thoughts and dreams. Eating me from the inside out,” I say.

“But why?” Jana asks.

“Because they can,” I tell her. “Why else? Looking back, I thought I was crazy. I didn’t want to tell anybody because I was afraid of judgment, that you guys would think I’m a lunatic. But now I know.”

“We’ll catch them,” Randy says. Everyone directs their attention to him, since he hasn’t said anything this entire time.

“It’s going to get tougher now, that’s for sure,” Beth says.

Jana’s eyes hold concern. “What do you think, Candra?”

What would I tell her? That everything’s going to be okay and we’ll all make it out alive? It’d be easy to spit out a lie, thinking the world would take care of the Conways on its own. But anyone with common sense knows the world doesn’t work that way. So, I give her my best answer.

“I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t even know if any of us will be alive in two or three months. I do know that, for now, we have each other. If we can hold out until my eighteenth birthday, then I can help you guys.”

“Right now the Conways aren’t our only enemy—time is too,” Beth says. “Three months. That’s all we have until she turns eighteen. We have to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.” She cuts me a glance. “I hope you’re gifted with a great power that can help us all.”

“I hope so too,” I murmur. “I need some fresh air. Jana?”

Jana nods and hops down from the barstool.

Outside, I can’t help but wander toward the forest looming behind the house; it beckons me. Eventually, I’ll belong there. Fog has set in, hovering in white wisps above the ground. I can’t see anything past the first tree line. Are they in there now, watching me? If things are already this bad, how am I supposed to make it to my eighteenth birthday?

As if she can read my thoughts, Jana clutches my hand and squeezes. “We’ll get through this. Somehow. Someway. I just know it.”

I hear what she says, but my eyes never leave the vicinity of the forest. I’m mesmerized by the faint, green glow radiating from the army of trees. They used to warn me, tell me to leave. But now? Now it’s as if I can hear their voices on the tip of the wind. Come closer, they say.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rebecca Rogers expressed her creative side at an early age and hasn’t stopped since. She won’t hesitate to tell you that she lives inside her imagination, and it’s better than reality.