Mortal Kiss (8 page)

It was a wolf, its yellow eyes flickering in the dark of the forest.

Her heart began to beat faster again. She changed direction, moving to her right, away from the predator. But then she saw another—they were on either side of her, moving quietly through the trees.

Faye’s heart jumped and fluttered. Two wolves? She’d heard of them in these woods—loners, coming over the border from Canada to hunt—but never of more than one at a time. What if there was a whole pack?

There came another howl, high-pitched and terrifying. And then, something else—another sound, farther away but just as fearful—the creepy, mournful wail of a horn that rose and then died away on the wind.

The howl went on and on. It came from somewhere behind her, and Faye found herself running, trying to open her purse and pull out her phone. She looked left and right and saw that the wolves were still following her, easily keeping up. They wound around tree trunks as they loped through the woods, faster and faster, closer and closer.… Faye managed to pull her cell out, but her cold fingers fumbled as she dialed and she lost her grip. The phone fell, disappearing into a snowdrift. Sobbing, Faye didn’t dare stop. Instead she ran on, gathering all her strength.

She heard snuffling close on her right as one of the wolves checked her scent. Then the horrible sound of the horn pierced the breeze again, dousing Faye in a fear so cold that she felt numb.

She slipped, went sprawling headlong in the snow. She thought she felt the creature’s breath on her neck and forced herself back to her feet, not even pausing to brush off the snow as she ran again. Her clothes were wet now, and she was freezing cold. She felt her teeth began to chatter, and her fingers ached. Her mind flashed, suddenly, to the body in the woods. Was this what had happened to him?
Maybe he hadn’t died from cold after all; maybe … Faye shook herself, clearing her head. Panicking wouldn’t get her anywhere.

It can’t be that much farther to the road
, she told herself, trying to keep calm enough to think clearly.
Just keep going. If you can make it to the road …

Something snapped at her heels and she screamed, the sound echoing into the trees as she twisted to get away. She spurred herself forward, feeling branches scratch at her face and pull at her hair.

Then the wolf was at her heels again, its teeth grazing against her calf. She stepped on a rotten tree branch, concealed beneath the flawless snow. It crumbled under her foot, and she stumbled, right under the beast’s nose.

Faye tried to right herself, but the stumble turned into a fall and suddenly she was rolling down the slope full-tilt. She opened her mouth to scream but shut it again as dirty snow and dead leaves made her cough instead.

She scrabbled desperately with her hands, trying to grab on to the trees as she rolled past, but she couldn’t. She thought she was going to fall forever, but suddenly the ground leveled out. Her head struck something harder than the surrounding mulch—tarmac! She had rolled onto the road, which had been sanded against the snow.

She could still hear the wolves howling as they chased down her scent. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring a sharp pain in her elbow.

A roar sounded behind her, but it wasn’t an animal this time. Faye spun on her heel, throwing her hands up to shield her eyes from the fierce glare of the headlight that appeared around the bend in the road, cutting through the darkness like a knife. She tried to get out of the way but, disoriented by the chase and her fall, didn’t know which way to leap. She recognized the sound of the vehicle as a motorbike as it bore down on her.

Faye held her breath, but in the split second that she waited for the collision, the bike skidded around her. She watched as the rider fought to control his bike. Its back wheel kicked out against the blacktop as it hit a patch of stubborn snow and slid until it was almost horizontal against the road’s icy surface. She could see the rider holding on grimly, his leather-gloved fingers gripping the handlebars for dear life. He and the bike spun in a semicircle around her quaking figure. Faye stood, rooted to the spot, waiting for the rider to crash to the ground.

But he didn’t. With a monumental effort, he pulled the bike upright, completing the semicircle he had cut on the treacherous ice and coming to a standstill with his front wheel just inches from her legs. The engine idled, suddenly quiet.

In the vast moment of silence that followed, Faye could hear her breathing, even louder than the beating of her terrified heart. She could feel herself shaking, her teeth chattering with cold and fright.

“What the—?” said the rider, struggling to catch his own breath. “
Faye?
It’s Faye, isn’t it? What the hell are you doing out here? I could have hit you! I could have killed—”

She had a second to wonder how on earth he knew her name before the rider’s words were cut off by another wolfish howl from somewhere in the trees. The rider pulled off his helmet, and Faye found herself face to face with Finn, the biker boy from the mall. He stared up at the forest, his face dark with anger.

“Get on,” he ordered. “Behind me. I’ll take you home.”

Faye didn’t hesitate. She straddled the bike’s wide seat and wrapped her arms around his waist. As soon as he felt her weight behind him, Finn kicked the engine into gear and roared off down the road toward the lights of Winter Mill.

She’d never been on a bike before. It was exhilarating to race with the wind through the night. She held on as tightly to the boy as she dared, her face against his warm, heavy jacket. It smelled of leather, an old smell but not unpleasant. Her heart was still beating, but as she felt the muscles of his back move where she was pressed hard to him, her fear melted into deep excitement.

“Where do you live?” she heard him shout as they approached the town.

“McCarron’s Bookstore,” Faye called back, hoping that the wind hadn’t snatched her words away before he had heard them.

The ride was less than ten minutes, though as the bike pulled up Faye wished it could have lasted an hour. The boy killed the engine and kicked down the stand, leaning the bike into it. Faye slid off, pushing her windswept hair back from her face, and found she had to catch her breath once again. “Thank you,” she managed to say as he removed his helmet and pushed himself off the bike.

He stood in front of her, eyes shadowed so that Faye couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I guess that makes us even,” he said at last.

“Even?”

He smiled then, briefly. “For what you did in the mall.”

“Oh. Right. You didn’t owe me—”

“What were you doing out there in the woods?” he asked, cutting her off. “Don’t you ever go out there alone, you hear me?”

She was shaken by the urgent tone of his voice, talking about a landscape she’d known since she was a child. “I was just walking home. I’ve done it a thousand times.”

“Well, don’t. Not now. Not anymore.”

“Why?” she asked, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. “Those were wolves out there. They were chasing me—but there was something else, too. It sounded like … like a horn, or something. Do you know what that was?”

The boy looked away. “I don’t know. I just know it’s not safe up there. Please … Faye, please promise me you won’t go up there again.”

Faye felt her heart lurch. “How do you know my name?”

Finn shrugged. “I heard your friend call you. At the mall.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I was afraid. Really afraid.”

Finn took a step toward her. Faye held her breath as he raised one hand and traced a finger along her cheekbone where a branch had scratched her. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he told her softly. “Not while I’m here. Never while I’m here.”

He was so close. Her eyes flicked to his lips, and she wanted to feel his arms around her. Her heart stuttered and she met Finn’s gaze, finding it so intense that she could hardly breathe. He dipped his head forward, and she thought he was about to kiss her. But then he froze. He dropped his hand as if her skin had burned him and stepped back, turning abruptly to look up at the McCarron’s sign.

“So the woman who runs the shop—that’s your mom?”

“Uh—no,” said Faye, sent off-balance by the sudden change of atmosphere. She swallowed her disappointment, embarrassed that she’d misread his intention. “No, my mom’s dead. That’s my aunt Pam.”

Finn nodded, glancing at his boots and then at the bike key in his hand—anywhere, apparently, to avoid looking back at her. “I like her. Anyway, I’ve got to go.”

“You were out there,” Faye blurted, suddenly desperate for him to stay. “You were out in the woods tonight. Why?”

He stared at her for a second and shrugged. “I like the moonlight.”

Then he jammed on his crash helmet and swung his leg over the bike, gunning the engine. A second later, he was gone, without even pausing to say goodbye.

Nerves bubbled in Liz’s gut as she pulled up outside the Morrow mansion. Part of it was the idea of seeing Lucas at home, part of it was the idea of being in such an amazing house at all, and part of it was left over from the fight with Faye the night before. Sometime after their showdown, Liz had looked around the party and realized that Faye was no longer there. She must have left soon after Liz had told her she wasn’t going to get a ride home.

Liz looked in the mirror, adjusting her eye makeup and reapplying her coral-pink lip gloss, trying to ignore the shadow of guilt that haunted her.
It was her own fault
, Liz told herself.
You just don’t do that to a friend.…

Friends don’t leave others to walk home alone in the dark, either
, said another voice, one that Liz was determined to ignore. She climbed out of her old rust bucket of a car and slammed the door, looking up at Lucas’s home.

It was huge and imposing, just as her dad had said. He’d come back from his meeting with Mercy a couple of hours earlier, and Liz had been eager to learn as much as she could. He’d been in a strange mood, though, unwilling to talk. The only thing he’d said before he shut himself in his study was that Mercy’s mansion was a lonely place. That was what had made up Liz’s mind about paying this surprise visit. She’d imagined Lucas holed up in this big house with no company and had told herself he’d welcome a visit; after Faye had left the party, they’d had quite a lot of fun, even if he had kept asking where Faye had gone.

Liz ran up the steps and rang the doorbell. A few moments later she heard the sound of heavy footsteps, and the door opened to reveal the man who had driven Lucas to school on his first day. Liz tried not to shiver as she looked at him, but he
really did look scary. He was big and broad-shouldered, with a shiny bald head—not even a hint of hair. It was his face, though, that was really alarming. His eyes were deep-set and very dark, and seemed to be permanently angry. His nose was flattened as if it had been broken at some point, and his lower lip bore a long scar that ran down and cut into his chin.

The man looked her up and down. His expression was openly hostile. “Help you?”

“It’s Mr. Ballard, isn’t it? I, uh, I’ve come to see Lucas. Is he in?”

He stared at her for another moment before opening the door wider and gesturing for Liz to step inside.

Ballard led her up the massive stone staircase swiftly, turning left at the top, then right into another corridor, and then right again into yet another. Liz looked around her, intimidated by the sheer size of the house—it was like a maze! There were doors everywhere, all shut. They kept walking, and Liz became aware of the sound of music up ahead. It came from behind a door at the end of the last corridor they had turned into. Ballard walked up to it and knocked twice, hard.

There was a pause before the door was flung open and Lucas stood in the doorway, a scowl on his face. “What?”

Ballard flicked his head toward Liz. “Friend of yours to see you.”

Lucas looked past him and offered a faint smile. “Oh, hey, Liz. Come in.” He nodded curtly at Ballard, who stalked past her and away down the echoing corridor. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

“Um … I just thought I’d pay a friendly call,” Liz said as Lucas shut the door behind her. “That’s OK, isn’t it?”

Lucas wandered farther into the room. “Well, I don’t mind—but Mom can be a bit weird about it. She doesn’t really like uninvited guests.”

“Oh,” said Liz, beginning to feel uneasy. “Sorry.”

Lucas shrugged dismissively. “Do you want a drink? I’ve got juice, or Coke.…”

“Coke would be great, thanks.” Liz glanced around the room while music poured from an expensive-looking sound system in the corner. A large, slouchy sofa stood beside it—Lucas had obviously been lying on it, reading, because it was surrounded by music and car magazines. A big flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite, but Liz was most impressed by the drum kit, keyboard, guitar and microphone, all set up as if a band had just left.

Then she realized something else. “You don’t have a bed!” she blurted, surprised.

Lucas walked to the sound system, glancing at her as he turned it down. “This is just my den. My bedroom’s next door.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.… That makes sense …,” Liz said, kicking herself.
Way to seem like a poor hick, Liz
.

“So …,” Lucas said, handing her a Coke and waving for her to sit down. “Was there a specific reason for your coming over?”

“No, not really. I just thought … you left the party pretty suddenly last night. I just thought I’d see if you were OK.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, an impish sparkle in his eye. “Really? Just that? You didn’t think it might be a good excuse to have a look inside the Mysterious Morrow Mansion? Seriously. I think I spent most of my night last night ignoring hints. Everyone wants to come over to hang out.”

“No!” Liz protested, feeling herself flush—because if she was really honest with herself, that was exactly one of the reasons she’d come. “I just … I just thought you might like some company, that’s all. Stuck here in this big house with nothing to do.”