On Fire (18 page)

•  •  •

Hunter Gramm really did have a gun.

But Jackson Whittemore was not about to become a victim.

There was no way Gramm was going to fire a weapon out in the open. There might not be anyone in the lot itself, but there were other people in the preserve, and someone was bound to hear.

Cassie
, he thought. Then,
Wait
. His mind racing, he reviewed their conversations. Could she have been in on it? Luring him here for this guy?

Right now, that didn’t matter.

He took off running toward his car, yanking out his keys as he did so. His heart was pumping and his mind was racing.
Get to the car, get to the car.
His body, used to sprinting, sucked up the adrenaline and he put on the turbo. His brain, used to defining and achieving goals, spun game plays of him peeling out in the Porsche and calling the police.

Footfalls clattered on the blacktop behind him. Gramm hadn’t shot at him, just like he’d expected.

There it was, his Porsche. He got ready to jump in—

—just as another guy in a ski mask popped up from behind it like a jack-in-the-box. He, too, was brandishing a gun.

“Stop right there,” he ordered Jackson.

Jackson still would have run, or fought, or yelled, or something, except that Gramm had caught up with him and pressed a gun into his back.

“There’s a silencer on this thing,” Gramm told Jackson. “Like on TV, you know what I’m talking about? And I won’t hesitate to use it.”

The other guy came from around the Porsche. He moved swiftly, glancing toward the preserve, aiming his gun at Jackson the entire time. Masked.

“Good timing,” Gramm said to the second guy. To Jackson, he said, “Let’s go.”

Jackson bolted. The second guy ran forward and hit him in the face with something hard. Already exhausted before
he’d tried to escape, Jackson lost his footing and went down on one knee. Then he looked up at the two masked guys as they trained their weapons down on him.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Gramm said. “Now open your mouth.”

Jackson glowered at them both. He was feeling woozy, but he still fought as the other guy stuffed a rag into his mouth, then tied it in place with another rag.

“Hands behind your back,” Gramm said.

If I do that I’m a dead man
, Jackson thought, not moving a muscle.

The second guy grunted and grabbed one of his arms. Jackson felt something tight clamp around his wrist. Handcuffs. Then the guy pushed his other arm behind Jackson’s back and put on the handcuff. When they snapped in place with a click, Jackson flashed with panic.

Someone will come
, he told himself.
This is a public place.

Then something hard came down on the back of his head, and everything went black.

Beacon Hills

Six Years Ago

I
t was Friday, Ms. Argent’s fifth day on the job, and after the first day—when she had swum beside him—Derek had caught himself waiting for her to do it again. But she hadn’t moved from the lifeguard perch all week, hadn’t even spoken to him. She’d just watched him like a hawk, gaze trained on him, as he’d stroked through the water. One by one the other swimmers had left, and he’d remained behind, torn between disappointment that she hadn’t done it again, and complete and utter relief that she was staying away from him.

He told himself that he was swimming as long as he always did because the Wolf Moon was coming, and Josh would be training right now, too, getting ready for the challenge. He knew humans had their power plays inside families, but they were nothing compared to those of a werewolf pack. Privileges and status revolved around successful challenges.

As well as around failures.

He swam lap after lap beneath her scrutiny. Then, just as he did one last flip-kick and headed for the stairs in the shallow end, he felt the vibration of her approach in the water.

And then she was swimming alongside him. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know what else to do except to keep swimming. What was he supposed to do? She was probably used to really cool guys. He spun a fantasy of her life before she’d moved to Beacon Hills: living in a big mansion in Sacramento, maybe, or a wicked cool condo. Maybe she’d been an Olympic swimmer and gotten injured or something tragic. He thought about all those human, adult things that he hadn’t done, that she obviously had—get a job, have a car. Just . . . leave.

I can’t do that
, he thought.
I have my pack.

He’d always been taught that being a werewolf was a gift. Not everyone in his family was so lucky. He had nieces and a couple of cousins who were ordinary; and his old great-uncle was completely human and had never consented to the Bite. What would Ms. Argent think if she knew? Would she think it was cool, or would she turn away from him in horror?

It doesn’t matter
, he thought.
I can’t tell her
.

They swam together, synchronized, and when they hit the five-foot mark, she took his hand and put her feet on the bottom. He stopped, too.

They faced each other.

And she smiled at him, much more shyly than he would have expected. She looked down, then peered up at him through her lashes.

“What you must think of me,” she murmured.

His heart was pounding so hard he was sure that she could hear it. He had no idea what to say her, and he also had no idea how to get out of the pool without embarrassing himself.

Except . . . he didn’t want to get out of the pool. He wanted to kiss her.

“There’s something about you,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking about you all week. I tried to stay away. I mean, you’re a student and I’m . . . well, I’m not a teacher. But I’m close. To being a teacher.”

She swirled her fingers in the water. “And this isn’t really my style, you know? I don’t come on to men like this.”

Men.
She thought of him as a man. He licked his lips, completely tongue-tied.

“I wish you’d say something,” she murmured. “I’m kind of dying about now. I’m sorry if I misread your intentions. I won’t bother you again.”

His intentions? Misread them? He was baffled. But then he thought about all the looks he had thrown her way. How he’d glanced up at the lifeguard tower every time he’d made a turn to head down the lane. Maybe he had been sending out signals.

“I—I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he blurted, then flushed because that sounded so wimpy.

Her smile was so sweet. “I don’t want to get you in trouble, either,” she said. “With the school administration
or
your girlfriend . . .” She trailed off.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said.

Her cheeks went pink and she smiled, gazing down again. “Oh. I just assumed . . . you being so handsome and all.”

His knees almost buckled. He didn’t date girls. He had cultivated his status as a loner on purpose, because it made his life easier. But now, facing her, nothing in him wanted to be alone. Sure, Laura’s friends flirted with him and told her to tell him that they thought he was hot. But they were girls. Ms. Argent was a
woman.

“Look,” she said. “I—This is happening in such an awkward way. I don’t mean to crowd you. I’m just . . . well, I’m drawn to you, and I can’t really explain it.” She smoothed her wet hair away from her face, and he found the gesture very sexy. “But I don’t want you to think I’m just after . . . well,
you
know.”

“I—okay,” he stammered. “So, um . . . what . . . ?”

“Do you want to go for coffee?” she asked. He was aware that she was still holding his hand. She caught her breath and let go of it, crossing her arms over her chest. “We could just talk,” she suggested. “I’m new here and maybe you could just show me around a little.” She raised her brows, looking hopeful and uncertain. I know we’d have to be careful. Outsiders might not understand.”

“Yeah,” he said. What he didn’t know how to explain to her was that he had never taken a girl anywhere in Beacon Hills. He wasn’t even sure where to go for coffee. They couldn’t go to the Beaconburger—it was far too public—and that was pretty much the only place he knew of that even served coffee.

“I think we’re both having the same thought,” she murmured. “Privacy.”

Privacy, as in being careful not to be seen together while
they were hanging out? Or privacy as in . . . oh, God, was she serious?

“So we can get to know each other.” She pondered a moment. “Would you think I was too forward if I invited you to my apartment? Just for coffee?”

“When?” he blurted.

She smiled. “Now?”

His mind was racing so fast it was practically starved for oxygen. He checked the time on the large wall clock. Laura and he were due to meet at the Beaconburger in forty-five minutes. Depending on how far away her apartment was, they could dress quickly, drive over there, chat for a few minutes . . . but there just wasn’t enough time.

What if she didn’t ask again? He couldn’t say no. But he didn’t want to say that he had to get a ride home with his sister.

“We only have one car in my family,” he said. That wasn’t true, but she didn’t have to know it.

“I could drive you home.”

She looked so hopeful that he almost said yes. But with Wolf Moon approaching, members of the pack would be showing up. He wasn’t sure when, but the rules of hospitality always applied—all pack members had a standing invitation to stay at each other’s houses.

“I’ll just drop you off,” she said. “No one will see us.”

He was so torn. He wanted to say yes like anything. But he couldn’t put his pack in jeopardy by inviting a stranger onto their land. At any other time, he would be able to pull it off. Laura had had friends over, even for overnights on non-full-moon nights. But right now it was too risky.

Talk about horrible timing.

“Another time, then,” she said sadly.

“Wait. Let me call my sister,” he blurted. And then he was embarrassed because that sounded as if he had to check in with her.

“Laura Hale?” she asked, and he was startled. She blushed again. “I made discreet inquiries about you. Your sister’s a senior.”

“Yes. Please, wait just a second,” he said.

“Okay.” She was so sweet.

As he kicked off toward the edge of the pool, he forced himself to slow down. He could swim faster than anyone on the varsity team, but no one could ever know that. Then, as he plodded through the water, he could feel himself begin to wolf. He was too excited. He had to calm down. But how could a sixteen-year-old guy calm down when a beautiful woman like Ms. Argent wanted to get to know him?

Stop, stop
, he ordered himself.

He made himself stay in the water until he was sure the wolf shift had reversed itself, and then he scrambled out of the pool. He didn’t look back at her as he walked into the boys’ locker room. He knew that would look wimpy, and he wanted to be 100 percent positive that there were no telltale signs of the shift on his face—no sprouted hair, no long teeth, no glowing eyes.

Once in the bathroom, he checked his eyes, then opened his locker and got his phone. He called Laura.

“Hey,” she said. “Zup?”

“Can you pick me up in three hours?” he asked. He had
no idea where. “At the Beaconburger?” He could always call her back later with a different place. If she said yes.

Say yes, say yes, say yes,
Derek silently pleaded.

“What’s in it for me?” she asked.

“I won’t tell Dad that you were frenching Josh last Wolf Moon.”

“I was
not
,” she said indignantly. “I would
never
—”

“And that I have the picture on my phone to prove it,” he added smoothly, although he was lying. He didn’t have a picture. He even wasn’t sure she had been frenching him. But when he’d walked in to call them to the ritual, both of them had messed-up hair and Laura’s lipstick was gone. And her lips looked like they’d practically been chewed off.

“Derek,” she said. “You
didn’t.
”

Ah-ha, and you did.
He was insulted. Josh was his direct rival. Laura shouldn’t be dueling tongues with
him.

Suddenly he scented Ms. Argent and glanced in the mirror above the row of sinks. She was standing at the entrance of the boys’ locker room. He hitched a breath, reacting to how hot she looked. A beach towel was wrapped around her body like a dress, showing off her sculpted legs.

He was still dripping wet in his Speedo and he turned slightly. He held up a finger—
one minute
—and was very grateful that Ms. Argent didn’t have superior hearing, like werewolves. Otherwise she would hear Laura sputtering and threatening to rip off various parts of his body when the assembled pack went on the big hunt.