Thornhill (Hemlock) (3 page)

Confusion flashed across Eve’s face. It was replaced, a second later, by anger. “Lying about your name doesn’t make me want to help you.”

I stared at her, baffled. “Why would I lie?”

“You tell me.” With inhuman speed, she reached around me and plucked my wallet from my back pocket.

“Hey!”

She fished out my driver’s license, tilted her head to the side, and went completely still. Emotions flickered through her eyes but none of them made any sense. Surprise, resignation, and something that looked almost like fear. “Mackenzie Dobson from Hemlock.”

“I don’t know you.” I was very sure of that, despite the too-familiar way she was staring at me.

Eve shrugged. “We know someone in common.”

Hadn’t we already established that I was looking for Kyle?

Serena was apparently thinking the same thing. “Kyle Harper,” she said. “Mac showed you his photo in the coffee shop. The person we’ve been talking about for the past five minutes.”

Eve’s mouth twisted into a small smile, one that looked more pained than amused. “Right. Of course. You might as well follow me.”

I exchanged worried glances with Serena and Jason as we trailed Eve around the corner. None of this was adding up.

Eve tugged on a section of the fence. It lifted on hidden hinges, creating an opening just large enough to crawl through.

“Maybe you guys should stay here,” I whispered, forgetting, momentarily, how futile whispers were.

Jason shot me a scathing look that clearly said we were not going to have this conversation.

Eve glanced back. “All three of you are coming. I’m not risking any of you running off to tell someone what you’ve seen.”

“All we’ve seen is a fence and an abandoned building,” muttered Jason.

She shrugged. “If the night patrol were doing their job, you wouldn’t have gotten within half a block of this place.”

Eve gestured at the opening. With a frown, Serena dropped to her knees and wormed her way through the small gap. Jason went next, barely managing to squeeze his broad shoulders through. I went last, followed by Eve.

I climbed to my feet on the other side and dusted clumps of dead grass from my palms and jeans. The lot surrounding the building was a knee-high tangle of weeds and shrubs. Without hesitation, Eve waded into the brush, moving as silently as a ghost and leaving just as much of a trace.

The path she took us on curved around the building and eventually led to three stone steps and a steel door. Eve climbed the steps slowly, almost reluctantly. She wrapped her hand around the door handle and paused. The fear that she was second-guessing her decision to let us in thundered through my chest as she turned and shot me a piercing glance that was almost a glare. I had never met her before today, so why did I get the feeling she hated me?

She gave her head a small shake, then pulled the door open and disappeared inside.

I climbed the steps. Just before I crossed the threshold, Jason’s fingers skimmed my hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“No.”

A
WAVE OF LIGHT AND SOUND CRASHED OVER US. THE
entire first floor of the building was one gigantic, open space broken only by support beams. Trance music picked up the frantic beating of my heart while a kaleidoscope of colors—purple, orange, red, and blue—swept a dance floor and illuminated several dozen dancers.

Although I wasn’t sure if what they were doing could accurately be called
dancing
.

Dancing implied normal, human movement. This was motion supercharged by the strength and grace that came with LS. It was bodies leaping high in the air, twisting in ways that should have been painful and that would have broken a reg body to pieces.

It was beautiful. And disconcerting. As were the low shadows that stalked the edge of the crowd, wolves whose fur looked ultraglossy under the multicolored glow.

A bar hugged one side of the room and people were lined up three-deep for drinks.

It was a club. A werewolf club.

Gooseflesh swept down my arms. Having LS didn’t make you a monster—I knew that—but being surrounded by so many people who could rip me to shreds left me feeling claustrophobic and off balance. Especially so soon after Ben.

I glanced at Serena. Purple and red light bounced off her dark complexion and an expression that looked almost like longing flashed across her face. She mumbled something that might have been “wicked,” but it was hard to hear over the music.

Jason, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to crawl out of his skin. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and I wasn’t sure if it was the mere presence of so many werewolves that left him looking slightly ill or the thought of what they might do if they found the symbol hiding under his collar.

Eve scanned the crowd and called over a giant who looked capable of picking up Jason and tossing him across the room.

Most of what they said was lost under the music, but I caught the tail end of their exchange during a gap between songs.

“Shit, Eve. I only came in for a minute.” He tugged on a silver hoop—one of many—in his ear.

“Think he’ll care? Just keep them out of trouble until I get back, okay?” Before the man could argue, she disappeared into the crowd.

I started after her as the music swelled up again.

A heavy hand on my arm pulled me back. “Stay put,” growled the giant, his voice rising over the music.

Eve had lied about not recognizing Kyle’s picture back at the coffee shop. There was no way I was just going to stand here and trust her to bring him to us.

I glanced at Jason. From the look on his face, he was thinking the same thing, but he shrugged and nodded meaningfully at the dance floor. If we drew attention to ourselves, it wouldn’t be three against one: it would be three against every wolf in the room.

Serena rolled her eyes at us and stepped between me and the wolf. Just before she turned her head, I glimpsed a smile that could have made armies crumble. One male werewolf didn’t stand a chance.

She rose up on tiptoe and said something near the man’s ear before moving around to his other side.

His gaze followed her like a compass finding north, and Jason and I slipped away.

We skirted the crowd, weaving around small groups of conversation and wolves who danced like it was their last night on earth. I scanned each face we passed. None of them was Kyle’s.

I headed for a staircase in the corner of the room, giving a wide berth to a couple making out in the shadows. The music faded to bearable levels as we climbed to the second floor.

A trio of wolves with midnight-black fur bolted past us as we reached the landing, and I couldn’t quite suppress a shiver before glancing around.

Here, it was less dance club and more pool hall. It was the kind of place I would find my father in on Sunday afternoons when I was a kid. Lamps hung like spotlights over scarred pool tables where money was put down, lost or won as angles were worked and tempers flared.

A blond man, his back half to us, leaned over a table as he lined up a shot. My heart tried to leap in different directions before momentarily stopping completely.
Ben
.

I wanted to move, but I was paralyzed.

The man straightened and turned. The air escaped my lungs in a rush as my heart kicked back into gear.
Not Ben
. I pressed a hand to my chest.

Jason was staring at me, brow creased. “Are you all right?”

I opened my mouth to lie, to tell him I was fine, but the words died in my throat. Standing thirty feet away, staring out one of the few windows that wasn’t boarded up, was Kyle.

He didn’t notice me. Not at first. He leaned against the window frame and pressed the knuckles of his right hand to the wood, a soft punch that might have been frustration or boredom. Then, with a deep breath, he straightened and turned.

Even at a distance, dark hollows were visible under his eyes, and it looked like a toss-up between what he had done last: slept or shaved. It had only been a few days, but he seemed somehow thinner and taller, like he had been stretched out.

I started to step forward and then hesitated. Relief. Hurt. Worry. A small flash of anger. I’d left everything behind to find him, but now that he was in front of me, I wasn’t sure what to do or feel.

Kyle’s eyes found mine.

I wanted to run; I forced myself to walk.

Twenty questions chased shock across his face as I came to an uncertain stop in front of him. I desperately wanted to cross those last two feet, but I couldn’t. I stood before him—gutted with every emotion exposed—and waited for him to say something. Anything.

After a long moment, he reached out and cupped my cheek with his palm. “
Mac?
”

A tremble radiated out from my chest and stole my breath. Caught between wanting to laugh with relief or cry, I settled for closing my eyes and turning my face into the touch.

Kyle’s hand fell away and I opened my eyes. “Hi,” I whispered, the tiny word hesitant and inadequate.

“What—” Kyle’s voice was a shock-choked rasp. He had to swallow and start again. “What are you doing here?” Something sparked in his eyes, and before I could answer, his lips were suddenly on mine, crushing and hungry and maybe a little desperate.

We were standing in the middle of a werewolf bar in a strange city, but it all faded as I wrapped my arms around Kyle’s neck and kissed him as though we were the only two people in the world.

After a moment, he let out a rough sigh and eased back slightly. I pressed my cheek to the cotton of his shirt—the gray Arcade Fire shirt he’d been wearing the day he left—and listened to the rapid thud-thump of his heart. Even for a werewolf, it seemed to beat too fast.

Kyle pressed his lips to the top of my head. “Idiot,” he breathed. “I can’t believe you came after me.” The words were chiding, but the tone was gentle. Almost relieved.

I pulled back just far enough to stare into his eyes. “What did you expect us to do?”

“Us?” Kyle scanned the room. His gaze focused on a spot just over my shoulder and his eyes darkened.

I turned.

Jason.

“He wanted to help.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to explain. Despite everything, they were best friends. Of course Jason had come to Denver.

“You shouldn’t be here. Either of you.” Kyle put a hand on my back and steered me toward the stairs.

I sidestepped him. Hating the way my voice trembled, I said, “You’re coming with us, right?”

“I . . .” Kyle shook his head. “The reasons I left haven’t changed.”

Jason was close enough to hear. “Come to the motel. We’ll talk. If you still want to stay, we’ll go, but you at least owe Mac that.”

I caught a flash of brightly colored fabric near the stairwell. The giant who was supposed to be watching us had one hand wrapped firmly around Serena’s arm and was searching the room. We were out of time.

“Please, Kyle.” I didn’t want to beg—shouldn’t have to beg—but I would. “Just come with us for a little while.” If we could just talk to him away from this place, he’d see that he belonged back home.

The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I can’t. It’ll just make things too hard. Trust me.” His hand was suddenly on my back again, steering me forward. I twisted away as Jason grabbed his arm.

“What about how hard this is on Mac? Have you thought about that?”

Kyle pulled free of Jason’s grip. “Stay out of it, Jason.”

“I can’t. I’ve spent the past four days watching her get her hopes crushed and listening to her cry when she thought I couldn’t hear.”

I froze. Our second night in Denver, I had given in to the tears I’d been holding back since leaving Hemlock. I’d tried to be quiet—locking myself in the bathroom and burying my face in a towel—and I had thought Jason was asleep, but he had heard.

He had heard and hadn’t said a word.

Jason didn’t look at me; he was totally focused on Kyle. “The guy I know would care about that.”

“You think I don’t care?” Kyle’s laugh was so bitter it sent shivers down my spine. “Everything I’m doing is because I care.”

He turned away.

He turned away and everything happened too fast.

Jason grabbed Kyle’s shoulder and Kyle shoved him. Hard. Harder than he meant to, judging from the shock that flashed across his face.

Jason stumbled six or seven feet, collided with one of the pool tables, and slid to the floor. A group of werewolves looked up from their game.

I stared at Kyle, angry and bewildered and beyond hurt. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. “That’s your best friend.” My voice cracked. “He came to Denver to help find you and
that’s
your response?”

I went to Jason’s side and reached down to help him up. “You okay?” He hesitated, then took my hand and staggered to his feet.

“Sure,” he muttered. “My week’s not complete until someone hits me.” He shook his head as though trying to clear it, and the fabric at his neck gaped open. I stared, horrified, as his tattoo was fully displayed.

I quickly pulled his collar closed, but I was too late. One man was already setting down his pool cue. He swore under his breath as he drew closer.

A single word was tossed from wolf to wolf: Tracker.

Games and drinks were abandoned as a semicircle of wolves closed around us. Kyle and Serena yelled our names, but I couldn’t see them through the crowd.

Jason’s fingers tightened around mine, and my hip bumped the pool table as I stepped back.

“He’s a spy. They sent a spy.” I couldn’t see the speaker, but it didn’t matter: the accusation was picked up and passed along until every face reflected a dangerous combination of fear and anger.

Kyle managed to break through the throng. He put himself between us and the nearest wolves. “He’s not a Tracker.”

A heavyset man with a lion’s mane of gray hair stalked forward. The muscles in his arms moved under his skin. “He has the tattoo.”

Kyle repositioned himself so that he was partially blocking Jason from their view. His voice was steady but with an unmistakable undercurrent of desperation. “He didn’t go through the initiation. The tattoo’s not complete. He’s not one of them.”

“You expect us to believe you? After everyone saw you talking to him? What did you do, give him the address?”

“No one gave us the address,” I said breathlessly. I caught a glimpse of Serena as she tried to make her way to the front of the crowd. “We came with Eve. She knows we’re here.”

“Bullshit,” replied the wolf. “Eve would never let a Tracker in.” The wolves pressed forward, a noose tightening around our necks.

The back of Kyle’s shirt was damp with sweat and I thought I could see muscles twitch under the fabric. “I swear: he’s just an ordinary reg. Harmless.”

“And her?” rose a voice in the crowd.

Kyle glanced at me and hesitated. Which version of the truth would get us out of this unscathed?

The wolves didn’t wait for him to decide.

In a blur of motion, a woman—partially transformed with inhuman hands and teeth—broke through the throng and tore me away from Kyle and Jason. My knees collided painfully with the floor as she forced me down. Serena shouted my name a second before the woman shredded the collar of my shirt and jacket with her claw-tipped fingers. Cold air hit my neck as she pushed my head to the side, looking for the Tracker’s brand.

Kyle was on her in an instant. His face was a mask of fury, and for the first time, I looked at him and saw a man who had killed to keep me safe. He pulled the woman off of me but lost his grip when she started to shift completely.

Bones cracked, muscles tore, and clothing fell away until a wolf with fur the color of honey had taken the woman’s place.

I tried to stand, but someone grabbed me from behind and shoved me back to my knees.

“ENOUGH!” A roar split the air, and the silence that followed was deafening.

A man strode through the crowd, two gigantic rust-colored wolves padding at his side. I strained to glimpse his face, but a hand on the back of my skull forced my gaze to the floor.

The man placed himself between me and the bulk of the wolves. “Let her go.”

That voice. I
knew
that voice.

The pressure on my skull fell away. I looked up just as the man turned his back on me. He was tall and lean and he held himself like someone who was used to violence. His hair, black with hints of gray, just grazed the collar of a flannel shirt.

The set of his shoulders and the way he tilted his head to the side were horribly familiar, but I couldn’t see his face.

“They’re Trackers, Curtis.” The wolf with the gray hair stepped forward. “He has the brand.”

Relief washed over me. The voice hadn’t really been familiar.
Curtis
. I knew how disposable names could be, but I seized it like a lifeline as I pushed myself to my feet.

“And you were what? Going to send him back in pieces? Start a war?” Each syllable was a threat.

The other wolf backed down and withdrew into the crowd.

Slowly, the wolves drifted away, returning to the pool tables and their drinks. My rescuer watched them go and then turned.