Havoc (16 page)

Figuring it was best to just rip off the Band-Aid, I leaned in close to her and whispered, “Tracie, I know what you are.”

Her entire body went stiff. Paper crunched as her fingers tightened. Her eyes went wide. Through clenched teeth, she asked, “Know what now?”

Raising my hands, I stepped closer to her. “Don't worry,” I whispered. “It's okay. I'm one too. So are Spencer Holt and Dalton McKinney. We've been looking for you all week.” I met her eyes, and I couldn't keep myself from grinning.
Find your fellows
, some voice inside had told me.
Gather them.
And here she was, one more member of my pack. Of my family. I didn't know her at all, had never spoken to her before that moment in the hallway, but looking into her brown eyes I felt like I was seeing myself, another side of me that I never knew had been missing until just this moment. My chest ached.

She apparently wasn't having the same experience. “What, exactly, do you think I am?” she asked.

I grabbed her gently by the arm and pulled her away from the office door and prying ears. I did not take my eyes off hers.

When we were far enough away that I could be sure that no one, especially Mr. Savage, was listening in, I took a breath. And I said the word, my voice hushed. “Werewolf.”

The word seemed to echo down the empty corridor. For a moment, Tracie stood rigid, stone faced. And then her lip began to tremble.

“This isn't happening,” she said, her eyes darting away from mine. “No, this is certainly not happening to me right now.”

She tried to walk past me, but I stepped in front of her and held up my hands to stop her. “No, Tracie, listen to me. This is real. You haven't been going crazy. I've been exactly where you are right now. But you don't have to go through this alone. Me and Spencer and Dalton, we're figuring out why all this is happening.”

Shaking her head, Tracie backed away from me. “Leave me alone, please,” she said. “Just leave me alone.” With that, she spun on her heel and walked straight out the front door of the school, still clenching the papers in her hand.

I raced after her, shoving through the glass door, my backpack smacking against my shoulders as I raced to catch up. Tracie sped down the walkway, her eyes straight ahead.

“Where are you going?” I asked as I came to walk next to her.

She didn't look at me. “Home.”

“What about your stuff?” I asked, keeping pace with her. “Your bag, your backpack, your coat?”

Stopping, she finally turned to face me. “I asked you to leave me alone.”

I shook my head at her. “I can't, Tracie. You're one of us. Emily Cooke was, too. She died because there are people out there who want to hurt us. I can't just leave you alone.”

Tracie closed her eyes and took in a calming breath. “Emily, is it?” she said as she opened her eyes. “I am fairly certain that I am very, very sick, and that this right here is another hallucination. If not, I don't know how you found out that I'm not well, but I absolutely do not appreciate you mocking me like this.”

I grabbed her forearm. “I'm not, I promise.” She yanked her arm away but didn't move to walk any farther. “Listen, it all started with changes at night. You started to have some crazy personality shift, right? Then you turned into a full-on wolf? And sometimes you see shadows that move like men?”

“The bogey,” she whispered.

“It's not a bogeyman, Tracie, not exactly,” I continued. “But I promise you that this is all real. I just… I get so overwhelmed sometimes, and that's even with two people to talk to. I know it has to be harder for you.”

Her eyes went distant. She crossed her arms, pursed her lips. For a moment, we stood there in silence, the wind whipping at our clothes.

“I need to go back to class,” she finally said.

“All right,” I said. “But Tracie, please come to the party at Dalton's house tonight, okay? Talk with us. We're going to be following up on some information we found out about what's going on.”

She didn't answer. In the back of my head, another voice piped up. Nighttime, telling me what to say to convince her to come.
Tell her it wouldn't look good if the class president bailed on the welcome home celebration of one of the school's football stars.

“Plus, it wouldn't look good if the class president bailed on the welcome home celebration of one of the school's football stars.”

Her eyes sparked at that, shot to meet mine. Then, she turned and walked back toward the school. I watched her go, hoping I'd managed to convince her.

All I could do now was let Spencer and Dalton know I'd spoken to her, and hope that it was enough to lead another member of my pack home.

14

YOU'RE SO BRAZEN THESE DAYS

The last time I'd been to a party, I hadn't quite been me.

It was the week before, right after I started changing into Nighttime. And she'd dressed to the nines, flirted with boys, and got awkwardly drunk.

So yeah, this time? I intended to keep a low profile.

I kept it simple: jeans, the freshly rewashed black turtleneck, hair down. I kept the glasses on, of course. Nighttime's full hi-def plasma-screen vision still hadn't yet seeped over to the day.

I wasn't exactly the picture of a girl ready to party. But I had a mission.

Spencer picked me up in the early evening, and by six we were in front of Dalton's house. Earlier than usual for a party, but apparently the cheerleaders intended the celebration to start in the afternoon and last all night. By the time we got there the streets were lined with cars, the driveway packed with smaller vehicles awkwardly sitting way too close side by side. I was guessing those people weren't planning to leave for a while.

There was no sign of Dalton's parents' cars. That was a relief.

Kids streamed over the lawn and hung out on the porch, laughing and shouting and generally having a good time. A stark contrast to the last party, which had been a wake for Emily Cooke. It was actually a relief to see. I'm not sure with all that I was trying to focus on at once that I could deal with another super-somber soiree.

Spencer parallel parked his minivan while I leaned back in my seat, scanning the yard for any sign of Tracie or Dalton. I didn't see either—but I did see Megan, all spindly limbs and white-blond hair, leaning against the front wall of the house, scowling at the mirth around her.

“She actually came,” I said. My pulse began to race, and I realized I was worried about running into her. My best friend, of all people. I guess with the way I'd been acting around her, I couldn't blame her. But after the intensity that was our car ride to school, I wasn't sure I could face her. I still couldn't give her the answers she so desperately wanted from me. Who knew if I ever could.

“Who?” Spencer asked me. His head darted between various rearview mirrors, and his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he edged his mom's car into a way-too-narrow spot between two other cars.

“Megan,” I told him. “We had a fight this morning because she knows I'm keeping a secret, and I can't exactly blurt out that I'm a werewolf.” I huffed out a sigh and stared up at the roof of the car. “Is it just me, or has the past week been totally stressful?”

“Not just you.”

And then I felt the warmth of his body nearing me, his arm wrapping around my torso. I opened my mouth to protest, but I couldn't keep his pheromones from digging into me, scrubbing my brain of fear and worry and urgency. I couldn't keep away any longer—I leaned into him and hugged him back.

“I think we're gonna get somewhere tonight,” he said, his voice muffled by my hair. “Dalton's dad definitely knows something.”

“Mm,” I mumbled, my eyes closed. It seemed like forever since I'd felt so
calm
, and I didn't want to let go. Screw breaking into offices and werewolves and shadowmen. I just wanted to stay in that car forever, never let go of Spencer, never go back to the real world.

No
, a distant voice in my head said.
Do not give in. Get to work. Focus.

“I don't want to,” I said aloud.

Spencer pulled away from me, brow furrowed. “Don't want to what?”

His scent lingered, but with him not so close, my brain began to re-form the thoughts I'd had only moments before. Right. We had a mission.

“Sorry,” I said, leaning back into my seat. “Nothing. I guess we should head in.”

“Yup,” he said. Then he popped up in his seat, beaming. “Actually, don't move, wait right there.”

Before I could protest, he unclicked his seat belt, shoved open his door, and raced around the front of the minivan. Reaching the passenger side, he opened my door and waved his free hand toward the sidewalk with a flourish. “M'lady?”

Laughing, I hopped down to the street and let him close the door for me. “Wow, what was that?”

He shrugged, still grinning goofily. “I just always wanted to do that. Seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.”

I gently shoved his shoulder and said, “Well, thank you. Sometimes I do desire a big strong man to open my door for me. My tiny girl arms can barely manage.”

His grin faltered, and he looked at his feet. “Oh, I'm none of those things. Just thought it would be nice.”

I stepped in close to him and met his eyes as he looked back at me. Again the musks and aromas swirled, our hyperactive teenage chemistry boiling just beneath the surface of our skin. I hated seeing him look so hurt. I didn't want to do that to him. “I was just joking,” I said, my voice hushed. “It was very gentlemanly of you. Thank you.”

That brought his smile back, and then, as my mind began to fuzz over once again, all I could see were his big brown eyes. My heart thudded, and suddenly all I wanted was for him to lean forward, close his eyes, and—

Focus, Emily.

I took a step back and let out the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. Our eyes flicked away and then back to each other at the same time. We both laughed.

“Um, we should go find Dalton,” Spencer said. “Before too many people get here.”

I looked past the minivan to see more and more cars slowly driving down the street, teens peering out their windows to find a place to park. I could see some groups of kids hiking down the sidewalk from the roads up the street, as though they'd given up on finding close parking and decided to just walk a couple of blocks.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let's go.”

The two of us strode across the grass toward the front porch, some kids waving at Spencer and he waving back. No one seemed to notice me.

Except, near the front door, Megan. I tried to keep my head down, darting glances to see where her current position was. And I knew the exact moment she caught sight of me, because she shoved herself off the wall, uncrossed her arms, and ever so briefly, smiled.

Ignoring her would have been a realm beyond bitchy, even if I did sort of have a good reason to keep her in the dark.

I forced a smile back and raised a hand as I grew close to her. She walked across the grass and came to stand before me and Spencer. We were near the open front door to the house, and I could hear random thumps of a drum, the whining of guitar strings being tuned. Mostly I just heard lots and lots of voices.

“Hey, Reedy,” I said.

“Hey.”

Spencer looked between us both. I didn't know about my face, but Megan's was unreadable. For a moment, neither of us said anything.

“Uh, hey, Megan,” Spencer finally said. To me, “Hey, Em Dub, I'm going to go find Dalton. See you inside.”

“All right.”

Megan watched him disappear into the crowd milling about the front porch, then turned back to me. “So—” she started.

“I—”

I smiled nervously. She just looked vaguely annoyed. “Go ahead,” I said.

“So,” she began again. “I just wanted to say… I'm sorry, I guess. This morning was sort of…”

“Awkward?” I finished for her.

“That's a word that fits, yes.” Crossing her arms, Megan looked at the crowd of kids. “So this is one of those famed high school parties, huh? Are they anything like the movies?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. The first and only one I went to turned out to be a wake. But Megan, are we … are we okay? I know I've been distant since school started, and there are things I can't say, but—”

She held up a hand, stopping me. “I don't really want to talk about it, okay? We're both here tonight. Maybe we can just hang out like we always used to. Even if it is surrounded by a bunch of Neanderthals and twits.”

I bit my lip and looked over Megan's shoulder. Dalton and Spencer were inside, waiting for me. We had only a few hours to scope out Mr. McKinney's office before the nighttime changes came over us, and we had to do it tonight while we had the party as the perfect distraction.

But Megan was looking at me so expectantly. I remembered her in the car that morning, her eyes watering with tears she refused to let fall. She never got emotional, ever. Not since junior high, when she learned that showing emotions around a bunch of scornful girls was like an open invitation to full-on harassment. I knew she held a lot inside. I thought of her the past week, alone without me… The same rush of emotion that had come over me when I thought of Tracie going through the werewolf change hit me then.

I could take some time out to be with her, at least for a little while. Mr. McKinney's office wasn't going anywhere. And I hated being the horrible friend I knew I'd been toward her.

“Sure,” I said with a smile. “Of course! I am not letting you take on your first high school party without me.”

Her face broke into an honest, happy grin. She stepped beside me and hooked her arm through mine, elbow in elbow. “Well let's go live it up, or whatever these guys do.”

We walked that way, a pair of clear misfits, heads held high as we climbed the porch steps. All it took was a pointed glare from Megan and the kids by the door parted for us.