Mortal Kiss (18 page)

“Evidence of what?” Liz asked.

Faye didn’t want to think about that.

The two girls watched as Sergeant Wilson and Ballard tied Finn to the chair. Finn struggled and yelled, but he was no match for the two men, even when Sergeant Wilson removed the cuffs. Ballard tied the boy’s feet and hands together, then twisted the rope around Finn’s neck, forcing his head back, and secured the end to the chair.

Ballard turned to Sergeant Wilson. “Get out.
Now
.”

Liz’s dad didn’t even hesitate. He walked to his car, slid into the front seat, started the engine and backed out.

“I don’t understand,” Liz said. “Why is Dad taking orders from that horrible man? What’s happening to him? We should go after him!”

Faye squeezed her arm as they watched the police car disappear down the narrow track. “We have to stay here,” she told Liz. “We can’t leave Finn alone with Ballard.”

Liz looked miserable but nodded. Through the window, they saw Ballard lift his hand and hit Finn hard across the face. The boy’s head smacked back against the chair, and the girls heard him groan.

“You think you can interfere with our plans, do you, Finn?” Ballard said, his sinister voice amused. “How long will it take you and your kind to learn you will never win?”

Finn lifted his head, twisting it from side to side to loosen the rope. He coughed, and Faye was shocked to see blood on his lips.

“We haven’t lost yet,” Finn managed to say. “And you know we won’t go down without a fight. I’ve seen worse than you come and go.”

Ballard was circling Finn, the way an animal might stalk its prey. “But you
will
go down, boy. Look at you. How long has this battle been going on? You never change. And you
never
learn. I’ve been waiting for one of you to slip up, do something stupid. And what you did in that schoolyard. That was stupid. Drawing attention to yourself. To all of us.”

Finn coughed. “What do you want?” he rasped. He seemed to be finding it hard to breathe. “Stop playing games. I’ve got better things to do.”

“I’m going to give you a choice.” Ballard bent over Finn, his voice echoing in the eerie emptiness of the old mill. “Because I’m generous that way, and because I want to send a message. Your kind may have hindered us before, but that’s not going to happen again. So here we are, Finn. You can join us. Or I can kill you, here and now. I can end your pathetic little life once and for all, because I’m tired of your arrogance.” Ballard straightened up. “I’m going to give you five minutes of quiet time alone to make your decision. Make sure you choose wisely. Or your long life might just be at an end.” Ballard walked away, laughing cruelly as he went. As the girls watched, he slid open the main doors of the mill and went into the snow, closing them behind him.

Faye turned to Liz, her teeth chattering from crouching in the snow. “We’ve got to get Finn out, right now,” she said.

“We can’t do that on our own!” Liz protested. “Come on—let’s go back to town and get help.”

“And what if Ballard kills him before we can get back? Whoever we ask for help is just going to call the police, and you know that’s not going to help! Your dad is the only policeman on duty, and he’s the one who brought Finn here in the first place! Come on, Liz, we’ve got to try.”

Liz shook her head before shrugging helplessly. “OK. OK, let’s do it. But we have to be quick, before Ballard comes back.”

Faye looked once more into the opening they’d been looking through. They should both be able to fit through it, especially if they dug out a little of the snow as they went. She just hoped there weren’t any rusty nails or nasty spikes of rotten wood hiding underneath. “I’ll go first. Just be careful.”

Faye began to squeeze through, wriggling her shoulders to fit through the narrow gap. In a couple of minutes she was on the floor on the other side. “Come on,” she hissed to Liz, who was still hesitating. “Hurry up!”

At the sound of her whisper, Faye saw Finn turn around, obviously shocked to see her. She ran to him, kneeling behind the chair to help him as he struggled against the ropes.

“Faye, you shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You’ve got to go before Ballard gets back. He’s dangerous. Please, Faye—”

“Not without you,” she said, fumbling with the heavy knots with cold-numbed hands. She glanced over her shoulder to see Liz making her way inside. “Quick!” she called to her friend. “Help me with these.”

They managed to get Finn’s legs untied, but they couldn’t get his hands undone.

“We’ll get it off later,” Liz said urgently. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Finn glanced at the opening they’d squeezed through. “I’ll never get through there without my hands free. And I won’t be able to run fast enough, either.”

Faye glanced at the mill doors. There was no sign of Ballard yet, but they were running out of options. “I need something to cut the rope. Do you carry a penknife?” she asked Finn, but he shook his head.

“Wait!” said Liz. “Wait—I do. Sort of, anyway.” She rummaged in her bag and a second later pulled out a little silver letter opener. “I think one side is sharp enough!”

Faye reached for it but then stopped, her hand in midair. She stared at the letter opener, pale-faced. It was familiar. “Where did you get this?”

Liz shrugged. “I found it—that night we went up to the woods and found the wolf tracks and stuff. It was just lying in the snow, all dirty. Why?”

Faye took it, holding it in the palm of her hand. “It’s my dad’s,” she whispered. “He takes it everywhere with him. It used to belong to my great-grandfather.”

“What? It can’t be.”

“It is. It’s got a crack in the handle. I’d recognize it anywhere. Why didn’t you tell me about the knife, Liz—why didn’t you show me?”

“I—I forgot about it. We were late, and then we heard the bikers, and then we had the blowout, and—”

“Girls,” Finn interrupted. “Can we please do this later?”

Faye shook herself. “Right … right. Hold on.…” She went to use the knife on the rope, but Finn backed away.

“Is that silver?” he asked, looking warily at the letter opener.

“Yes—why?”

“Just don’t touch my skin with it, OK? I’m—I’m allergic. Very badly allergic.”

Faye nodded. Finn held out his wrists and she slid her fingers between his skin and the knot. Finn was warm, and she could feel his pulse throbbing against her hand. His breath blew across her neck as she bent over him, sending tingles down her spine. Trying to ignore how close they were, Faye worked the letter opener into the ropes and began to saw through the fibers.

“It’s taking too long,” hissed Liz, watching the door. “Hurry up!”

Faye wrenched at the rope, watching it fray. Just a few more minutes, and …

“Well, well, well,” said a sour voice behind them.

All three of them spun to see Ballard, watching them with a vicious look on his face. “Just
look
what the dog’s dragged in.”

Finn pulled his hands away from Faye and strained against the half-cut rope. Faye watched as his muscles bulged in his arms, the rough threads cutting at his skin. The rope broke suddenly, and he was free. He stood in front of the girls, holding his arms out to shield them from Ballard. The older man walked toward them slowly, his hands behind his back and an unpleasant smile on his face.

“Let them go,” Finn said. “You don’t need them. It’s me you want.”

Ballard opened his cruel mouth and gave a slow laugh. He brought his arms forward. On both hands he wore heavy brass knuckles—only these were made out of silver—that he must have retrieved from the car.

“Now, Finn,” said Ballard very softly. He kept walking toward them slowly. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Finn lunged, hoping to take him by surprise, but Ballard was ready. As Finn went for his legs, the man stepped back, bracing himself to take Finn’s weight. Then, as Finn made contact, Ballard placed his hands on Finn’s shoulders and flipped him backward, sending him head over heels across the floor. Finn crashed into a stack of old wooden boxes, crushing them into splinters that peppered the air with lethal shards. He heard the girls shriek but swallowed the pain, determined not to let Ballard think he had the upper hand.

“Come on, boy,” Ballard taunted. “Can’t you do better than that?”

Finn sprang to his feet, worried about Faye and Liz. He pushed them into a corner, where they would be at least partially sheltered by a heavy wooden beam. That would also give him a chance to keep Ballard away from them. Turning back as Ballard lunged, he threw a punch that struck Ballard’s shoulder and spun him around. Finn added a kick that forced him to the floor, though Ballard was back on
his feet before Finn could land another. He caught Finn’s foot and turned it over sharply, flinging him into the air. Finn twisted himself to land on his feet. He attacked Ballard again, punching a blow into the older man’s rib cage, but it didn’t even seem to register. Ballard struck back, scissoring his arm into Finn’s throat and leaving him gasping for air.

Before Finn could recover, Ballard lifted him bodily, snarling as he smashed the boy against the wooden wall. He slammed the silver knuckles against Finn’s throat, pressing them into his Adam’s apple. There was the sharp crackle of searing flesh, and a plume of steam rose from Finn’s skin. Finn screamed as the silver burned him, an ungodly sound that went on and on, turning into a long, moaning howl.

Through his pain, Finn heard Faye scream and knew that in the next few moments, she’d understand exactly what he was. Anger coursed through him, filling him with a fury that seemed to burn in his very soul. Anger at Ballard for forcing him out, anger at the woman who had made him this way, anger at the world. He’d wanted to keep this aspect of himself away from this girl. He’d wanted her to think him whole, normal. He hadn’t wanted her to know what he was, what he could become.… Was that really so much to ask? Was it?

Finn struggled against Ballard but could not free himself, the silver draining his strength even as the rage within him grew. He looked for the girls, knowing that as soon as he met her eyes, Faye would see that he was no longer the person she had thought he was. Finn looked at Faye, and through the pain and the blood rushing in his ears, he registered her shock.

“Run,” he rasped, his words distinct despite his agony. “Run.
Now
.”

#

His eyes were yellow. Terror flooded through Faye as she watched Finn convulse. She could hear screaming and only realized it was coming from her own mouth when Liz grabbed her arm, screaming too.

“We have to get out of here!” Liz yelled into her ear. “We have to—”

Faye grabbed Liz’s hand, and together they ducked out of their corner and made for the door. Faye was shaking so badly that she stumbled, almost dragging Liz down with her. She heard Finn—or whatever he really was—scream again, an echoing, animal sound. They had almost made it to the door when Faye tripped over something and fell, plunging to her knees. Liz tried to pull her up, but as Faye looked over her shoulder, she froze in horror.

Ballard had dropped Finn, and the biker now knelt on all fours, shaking his head like a dog. He opened his mouth wide and howled. Finn threw his head back, and Faye could see the scar where Ballard had hurt him with the silver knuckles. Except that it wasn’t a scar—it looked like a split in his skin, as if the silver had torn Finn apart. The tear was growing, spreading. It ran down his neck to his chest and up into his hair. Faye watched as Finn wrenched off his shirt. She could see the wound spreading, spreading, rupturing his torso, his back, his arms. The single wound became many as Finn’s skin seemed to melt away, showing a layer of thick gray fur sprouting beneath.

He howled again, and Faye saw his face begin to change. The eyes she knew as Finn’s had been replaced by hard, glaring yellow discs. His mouth and nose were stretching, transforming into a dog’s snout, sprouting more thick fur. Faye could see teeth, long, vicious and dripping with saliva, and felt her skin prickle with terror. That couldn’t be Finn, could it? It couldn’t be!

She looked at Liz, still gripping her hand, and saw her friend’s mouth stretched in a horrified O.

The Finn she knew was almost completely gone. In his place was a huge gray wolf. It shook its head, spraying saliva left and right. It flexed its muscles, long legs ready to spring into action, growling, angry, nose wrinkling with fury as it bared its teeth. Even Ballard was backing away. But then, just as the wolf was about to pounce, it turned its head, looking directly at Faye. She almost screamed again, but then she realized it was trying to tell her something.
Finn
was trying to tell her something. The wolf was looking at her, but for a split second, Faye felt as if she were looking into Finn’s eyes, and she could hear his voice as clearly as when he’d stood before her after saving her in the woods.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he was saying.
“Not while I’m here. Never while I’m here.”
Then the wolf looked away, focusing on Ballard.

But Faye didn’t know whether she could believe him. That night, in the woods … had it been Finn? Had it been Finn chasing her, after all? Faye jolted herself into action, pulling Liz across the floor. They heard a human scream as they reached the door, but Faye didn’t dare look back. The two girls plunged into the snow, struggling into a run. Every second, Faye expected to hear another howl behind them, or the sound of powerful paws thudding across the snow. She was taken back again to that chase through the woods, when she’d been convinced her life was in danger. Now she realized she’d been right, and a sick knot of terror tied itself around her gut.

“There!” shouted Liz, gasping for air. “There, look—my car!”

They collided with it and Liz pulled out her keys, fingers shaking so hard she couldn’t fit the right one into the lock. Faye wrapped her hands over her friend’s, steadying them enough to open the door. They flung themselves inside, breathing
hard. Liz slammed down the locks and started the engine, pulling away so fast that the wheels spun against the snow. They roared down the track, slipping and sliding but too desperate to get away to drive carefully.