Hemlock (40 page)

I didn’t want to explain to Tess why I was crying. I
couldn’t
explain to Tess why I was crying. Not without explaining everything, and I couldn’t do that to her.

Like a cruel joke, “My Body Is a Cage” by Arcade Fire started to play.

Something inside of me broke. I knew I should reach out and skip to another song—anything that wasn’t loaded with memories and connotations—but I couldn’t do it.

I puled my knees to my chest and listened to the entire thing. Al four minutes and forty-seven seconds. Despite the tears coursing down my cheeks, when the last note faded, I reached out and skipped back, listening to the song again as I tried to figure out what I was going to do.

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I CLUTCHED MY TICKET AND ADJUSTED THE STRAP OF my backpack. I could have waited inside the bus station, but there were only a dozen plastic chairs and most of them had been occupied. So instead I waited outside, leaning against the brick building in the twilight and waiting for the bus to Denver to pul in.

I flashed back to the motel parking lot where I’d waited for Tess after Hank split town. Standing outside the bus station in Hemlock, I felt almost as lonely as I had then.

Maybe it would be different if I knew what I was doing—if I could be certain Kyle actualy was headed for Colorado—but al I had were a handful of facts and an educated guess.

Kyle had asked Serena about packs during that afternoon they’d spent out at Henry’s.

Denver was within a day’s drive—provided you didn’t mind driving long hours and drinking lots of coffee—and it was rumored to have one of the largest werewolf packs in the country. More important, Kyle had lived there until he was six.

My stomach knotted at the thought of school and how far behind I was going to get—especialy since I’d been a less than stelar student over the past couple of weeks—but I pushed the worry away. I’d get caught up.

I thought about work and how there had been a message on the apartment voice mail teling me I was on probation for missing my apartment voice mail teling me I was on probation for missing my shift yesterday—a probation that might turn into a termination since I hadn’t shown up tonight.

But it wasn’t like I could wait for a more convenient time to go chasing after Kyle. The longer lead time he had, the harder he’d be to find. I’d learned that much from years with Hank.

The worst part of this whole thing—other than the possibility of not finding Kyle—was knowing how worried and hurt Tess would be when she found out I was gone. She had come out of her room midafternoon and tried to pretend that she was fine, that this was like any other breakup. But she’d barely touched the pizza I ordered, and she got someone to switch shifts with her at the Cat so she could crawl back into bed.

I swalowed, throat suddenly tight. I hated myself for running out on her—especialy with what she was going through—but I couldn’t think of any other option. There was no way she would have just let me go, and the alternative—letting Kyle slip away forever—was too horrible to contemplate.

I couldn’t lose anyone else I cared about. Even if it meant not being there for Tess when I desperately wanted to be.

She thought I had gone into work—which would at least buy me a few hours. She wouldn’t start to worry until midnight, and by then I’d be far enough away from Hemlock that I could cal her from one of the bus stops and try to explain.

If I couldn’t convince Tess over the phone that I’d be back and not to panic, Serena would try to talk her out of caling the cops and reporting me as a runaway.

and reporting me as a runaway.

I was realy hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

“So this is what a bus station looks like. Kind of underwhelming.”

I turned. Jason stood five feet away.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Serena.” He crossed his arms. He was wearing a black leather jacket over jeans and a black T-shirt. The light from the bus station sign iluminated half his face and the tattoo on his neck, leaving the rest of him in shadow. “You didn’t realy think she’d let you leave town on your own, did you?”

I stared at him, blankly.

“I’m going with you. Preferably in my car, since it has heated seats and satelite radio, but I’l take the bus if you insist on slumming it. It can be an experience. Like daytime television.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do. Denver is a big place, Mac. You won’t find him on your own.” He uncrossed his arms and walked toward me, stopping when there was less than a foot of space between us.

“Denver is the werewolf capital of the West,” I countered.

“What do you think wil happen to you if you go walking down the street with that thing on your neck?”

Jason shrugged. “I’l cover it up. I’l wear shirts with ridiculously high colars or I’l put a bandage on it or I’l swipe some of your makeup—you know, al those cliché things girls do to hide hickeys.

Besides, this isn’t about me. Or you. It’s about Kyle. And I can help.”

His green eyes glinted and he was suddenly serious. “I know His green eyes glinted and he was suddenly serious. “I know I’ve spent al summer screwing up, but I haven’t touched a drink since that night at Trey’s.”

I wanted to point out that the night he was talking about was Friday and that this was Sunday and that two days wasn’t exactly an eternity of clean living—but the expression on his face stopped me. It was earnest and a little desperate.

I reached out and touched my fingers to his neck. A black dagger but without the red letter that made it complete. “You never did get the whole thing, did you?” I murmured as I dropped my hand.

Jason shook his head. “No.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a smal, glittering bundle. Looking slightly embarrassed, he handed it to me.

Amy’s bracelet.

“How did you—”

“I heard you tel Serena about it at Henry’s. I went to your place and found the pieces. Most of them are there, I think.”

I stared down at the bracelet. The leather string was new and there were a few less coins, but it was stil achingly familiar.

“Thank you,” I whispered, closing my fingers around it.

“Let me help.”

I handed him my backpack.

“Where are you going?” he asked as I turned and walked away.

“To see if I can get a refund on my ticket.”

Twenty minutes later, I settled down into the passenger seat of Jason’s SUV. He was oddly quiet—almost like he was worried I’d change my mind if he opened his mouth.

I’d change my mind if he opened his mouth.

The truth was, even though I had told him I didn’t need his help, I was glad he was coming with me. Kyle, Jason, Amy, and me. It had always been the four of us. Even with Amy gone, it felt right that Jason and I were going after Kyle together.

I yawned and slid farther down in the seat, trying to ignore the way Jason kept sneaking worried glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

We’d find Kyle, and Tess would be okay while we were gone, and somehow, eventualy, things would go back to some semblance of normal. Even though Ben—Ian—was stil out there.

I knew things couldn’t be that simple, but that didn’t stop me from lying to myself. Sometimes, lies gave you more strength than the truth.

Eventualy, somewhere just over the state line, I fel asleep.

“This was so going to be my prom dress.” Amy twirled, the white, beaded fabric flaring out around her. It was a completely 1930s flapper look.

She came to a clumsy stop and colapsed in a dizzy heap.

I turned in a slow circle. We were on a smal square of neatly mowed grass—a patch of green so bright that it almost glowed—in the middle of what looked like a cornfield.

I felt completely underdressed in my jeans-and-T-shirt combo.

“You’re going to get grass stains al over it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Amy said, lying back and lacing her hands behind her head. “Not anymore.”

The cornstalks rustled, like something was moving through the The cornstalks rustled, like something was moving through the field. Hiding in it.

“Amy . . .”

She sighed and sat up. “It’s not over—you know that, right?”

She shook her head, looking unhappy, her delight in the dress apparently forgotten. “I’m sorry, Mac, but it’s not. Something’s coming.”

I stared into the field. “What’s in there?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

I turned to ask Amy if she could be any less helpful, but I was completely alone.

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HarperCollins Publishers

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Acknowledgments

So many people have contributed support and guidance throughout this adventure that naming them al would probably be a book in its own right. That being said, special thanks go to: Emmanuele Morgen, my fantabulous agent, who picked my Emmanuele Morgen, my fantabulous agent, who picked my query from the obscurity of her slush pile and who wanted to see more of Mac, Jason, and Kyle. Her unwavering support and faith mean the world.

Claudia Gabel, my amazing editor, who stuck with me, who pushed me to stretch myself, and who encouraged me to think big.

This book would not be what it is without her guidance, input, wisdom, endless patience, and replies to emails sent at 2 a.m.

Katherine Tegen, for her input and support, and for running such a fabulous imprint.
Hemlock
could not have found a better home.

Thanks, also, to Editor-in-Chief Kate Jackson and Publisher Susan Katz.

Barbara Fitzsimmons, Amy Ryan, and Joel Tippie, for making
Hemlock
look so gorgeous. Suzanne Daghlian and Alison Verost, in marketing and publicity.

And a huge thanks to everyone else at KTB and HCCB who had a hand in getting Hemlock onto shelves and into hands.

Thanks to Debra Driza, Jamie Blair, and Laurie Devore (aka the original Jason fangirl), for beta reading early drafts.

Kate Hart, Jodi Meadows, and Debra Driza (again), for keeping me on track those days when I worried this whole crazy adventure was going off the rails, for reading random snippets, and for providing advice at al hours. I am blessed to cal such talented and kind writers friends.

Nancy and Susan, for their friendship, endless support, and cheerleading.

Very little would be possible without the support of my family.

Very little would be possible without the support of my family.

Huge thanks (and much love) to my parents for passing on their love of books and for raising me to believe I could do anything—

no matter how farfetched, impractical, or magical. To Justin and Sarah, for remembering my dreams when I misplaced them. And to Krystle, for making sure I stepped away from my laptop and didn’t become a crazy hermit.

And thank you, whoever you are, for reading.

About the Publisher

Australia

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25 Ryde Road (P.O. Box 321)

Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia

http://www.harpercolins.com.au/ebooks

Canada

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http://www.harpercolins.ca

New Zealand

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Auckland, New Zealand

http://www.harpercolins.co.nz

United Kingdom

HarperColins Publishers Ltd.

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London, W6 8JB, UK

http://www.harpercolins.co.uk

United States

HarperColins Publishers Inc.

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New York, NY 10022

http://www.harpercolins.com

Table of Contents

Front Cover

Disclaimer

Half Title

Title Page

Copyright

False Title

April

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

About the Publisher