Hemlock (10 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Peacock

BOOK: Hemlock
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two of them kids I went to school with who wouldn’t have any trouble recognizing me.

I turned back to the spot where I had lost Ethan. Three Trackers were between us. Great. Excelent. Fanfrikintastic. They hadn’t seen us yet, but they would.

Ethan took a step toward me. I shook my head and he froze.

The blue glow from the spotlights near the dance floor made his face look strange and ghostly. We’d attract less attention if we weren’t together. The Trackers were looking for a pair; they wouldn’t expect us to separate.

I pointed from my chest to Ethan’s and made a splitting-up motion. He shook his head, but I nodded. As if to prove my point, the Trackers started walking toward his end of the club, forcing him to step back into the shadows.

I couldn’t stay here and I couldn’t afford to keep looking for Jason. Trying to use the crowd as camouflage, I skirted the outer edges of the room, darting from group to group until I could see edges of the room, darting from group to group until I could see the exit. There was a shout and I didn’t wait to see whether it was me or Ethan they had spotted. I just ran.

To the door and out the door.

Across the parking lot and past Jason’s empty SUV.

Down the block and around the corner.

Wheezing like an old man on a treadmil, I stumbled to a clumsy stop, fished out my phone, and punched in the number of the Stray Cat.

One ring. C’mon, Tess.

Two. Please, Ben.

I counted the rings as I walked past a darkened pawnshop and a piercing parlor that had been shut down for health-code violations. Technicaly, Bonnie and Clyde was located downtown, but this was a part of the strip that most people avoided after dark.

Though there were a few shops, the majority of the buildings were warehouses and self-storage units.

There was a whooping yel behind me. I didn’t know how many of them there were or if Jimmy was with them, and I didn’t take time to check before breaking into another run.

I’d never been more aware of the absence of people, of the way shadows and dark buildings could press in on a person. I stretched my stride as far as it would go, trying to increase the gap between us. Each breath sliced my throat and chest.

I heard Amy’s voice in my head.
Run, Mac, faster
. I wanted to tel her that I was trying, but I knew that trying wasn’t good enough. I fumbled with my cel as I ran, desperate to key in 911

but too frightened to slow down enough to hit the right numbers.

but too frightened to slow down enough to hit the right numbers.

My foot caught the edge of a pothole and I went sprawling, hitting the ground with a thud that knocked the air out of my lungs and left me stunned. My phone skidded across the pavement, and the granite curb dug painfuly into my stomach. My right arm had taken the brunt of the damage and was muddy and scraped.

That’s going to hurt
, I thought, dimly, as rough hands yanked me to my feet. Before I could get my bearings, someone slapped me.

Hard. Then again.

“You said we were just going to scare her.” The voice was high-pitched and anxious. I knew that voice, had heard it recently.

Alexis.

I looked up—straight into Jimmy’s face.

“We are scaring her,” he said. “You’re scared, aren’t you?

What’s your name? Mac?” He dug his fingers into my arms.

“You’re scared, right, Mac?”

When I didn’t answer, he shook me.

I couldn’t find my voice. Stupid. I had been so stupid back at the bar. I should have found the bouncer or stayed out of it or . . .

Someone was breathing in ragged little gasps. I realized it was me.

Jimmy started dragging me away from the edge of the street.

When I realized where he was taking me—an aley between two vacant buildings—I fought back. I kicked. I yeled. I used my nails on his arm and cheek. Sometime during the struggle, I lost my jacket, the fabric ripping from my shoulders as he fought to get me under control.

I couldn’t let them take me into that aley.

Horrible things happened in aleys.

Horrible things happened in aleys.

Amy had died in an aley.

I pushed and puled and screamed. Hot tears ran down my cheeks and blurred my vision.

“Help me!” Jimmy ordered Alexis, his sour breath coming out in a rush and clinging to the insides of my nostrils and the back of my throat.

Despite looking decidedly unenthusiastic, Alexis helped drag me, stil kicking and screaming, to the mouth of the aley.

No. No. No. No. Think. I couldn’t think. I needed to think. It was impossible to think. Tears and snot ran down my face. Jimmy pushed me against a brick wal and my stomach heaved. I was on the verge of throwing up on him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Alexis glanced at the street. She looked frightened, like she had suddenly realized things were rapidly spiraling out of control.

“Jimmy, she’s scared, al right? Let’s just go.”

“Not nearly scared enough,” Jimmy muttered. He shot a glare at Alexis. “You were the one who said you wanted a future with us.

This is part of what we do.” He focused back on me. “We teach lessons.”

I twisted away and he hauled me back, moving his hands to my shoulders so he could get a better grip. The look in his eyes turned every drop of blood in my veins to ice. I started shaking, shivering so hard that I bit my tongue and tasted blood.

“Do you like werewolves?” Jimmy snarled. “Is that why you tried to help that little RfW punk?”

I tried to turn my head, to look away, but he grabbed my jaw I tried to turn my head, to look away, but he grabbed my jaw and forced my face back to him. “Do you have any idea what Trackers do to traitorous regs who like fleabags?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alexis take a step back.

“Jimmy, she’l tel the cops.”

He laughed, his breath ruffling my hair. “No she won’t,” he said, sounding so sure of himself that I almost believed him. “You won’t go to the police, wil you?”

He shook me. Once. Twice. The back of my skul knocked against the brick wal.

“No,” I stammered. “I won’t go to the police.” And I meant it.

In that moment, I would have promised anything if they’d just let me go. My eyes burned and my chest hurt and it was hard to get enough air.

And he was laughing at me.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek, whispering, “It wouldn’t matter if you did. As long as the Trackers are in town, we
are
the police.”

I couldn’t breathe.

Had Amy been this scared the night she died? Had she had known what was going to happen beforehand?

Fresh tears filed my eyes, distorting Jimmy’s face. He brushed them away—a cruel, mocking parody of a caring gesture—and, over his shoulder, I saw a fourth person in the aley.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

HarperCollins Publishers

.....................................................................

Chapter 10

KYLE.

I tried to turn my head, to see if he realy was there or if he was just a halucination conjured up by my battered psyche.

“Stop that.” Jimmy shook me until it felt like my brain was sloshing against the sides of my skul. My head bounced off the brick wal and sharp pain radiated out in waves. If he kept it up, I was going to have a concussion.

There was a low growl from the front of the aley. “Jimmy . . .”

Alexis’s voice came out a frightened squeak. A heartbeat later, something huge and dark slammed into Jimmy.

He was stil gripping my arms. We both flew through the air and landed in a tangled heap. One of his knees caught me in the stomach and I retched, vomit clinging to my hair and clothes. My abdomen throbbed, and it felt like I had been split in two. I tried to breathe in shalow, hiccuplike breaths as I roled off him. Jimmy had taken the brunt of the impact and was stunned.

I pushed myself to my hands and knees.

Alexis stared at me, her mouth open in a smal, horrified O. She Alexis stared at me, her mouth open in a smal, horrified O. She backed toward the street and then turned and ran.

Something soft and warm slid across my skin. Fur? I held my breath and turned my head. A werewolf was sniffing the blood on my arm.

The wolf gave a smal yelp and shook its head. I started crawling backward, slowly, watching it for any sign it was about to leap for my throat.

I’d thought I had seen Kyle. I’d thought someone was going to save me.

There was no one.

I was going to die. Just like Amy.

I made it four or five feet and my strength gave out, my arms buckling beneath me. I waited for the wolf to crash into me, to split my body open with claws and fangs.

The werewolf padded over to me and I recoiled. It gave a sharp growl of displeasure and then licked my hand with its large, wet tongue before nudging my leg with its head. It was brown, I realized. Not white. It wasn’t the same wolf that had kiled Amy and attacked someone three nights ago.

I got back onto my hands and knees and weakly began to crawl, turning to the street even though it put the wolf at my back.

The werewolf gave my legs another nudge of encouragement. It wanted me out of the aley.

It was herding me toward safety.

I made it six or seven more feet and then my strength gave out a second time. I was close enough to reach out and touch the sidewalk, but I couldn’t cover that last bit of distance. I lay on my sidewalk, but I couldn’t cover that last bit of distance. I lay on my stomach, my cheek pressed to the dirty pavement. Smal pebbles dug into my skin, but I couldn’t raise my head.

Behind me, Jimmy swore and the wolf growled—not the displeased, impatient growl it had given me but a low, dangerous sound that raised the hair on the back of my arms and neck.

Something flew past my head and shattered on the wal. A chunk of glass bounced off the brick and sliced my forehead. A beer bottle. Snarling erupted. Behind me, someone screamed.

I had to move, had to make my way out onto the street, where a passing car might spot me, but I couldn’t budge. I was either too broken or too scared, and at that point I couldn’t tel the difference.

Something thick and warm ran down my face. Blood.

“Our Father who art in Heaven. Halowed be thy name . . .” The words stuck in my throat. Hank had been an atheist and Tess went to church only at Christmas and Easter.

“Thy kingdom . . .”

A particularly loud scream echoed behind me and I choked on a sob.

“Thy kingdom come.”

Tears streamed down my face. Battered, bruised, and terrified, I struggled to curl into a bal. Blackness rose up. There was another scream behind me, and then, mercifuly, I passed out.

Someone shook my shoulder. “Mac? Come on, Mac. Open your eyes.” The voice was low and insistent. It was keeping me from eyes.” The voice was low and insistent. It was keeping me from oblivion and I resented it.

I turned my head away from the words. I need to find the dark place. The dark place was safe. Things couldn’t hurt me there. I could hide. Why wouldn’t the voice let me go?

“C’mon, Mac.”

Eventualy, I forced my eyes open.

Kyle was kneeling next to me. He sighed and leaned back.

Shock forced the air out of my lungs and cut through the fog in my head.

“You’re naked.” My voice cracked on the last sylable. Not just naked—covered in blood. It stuck to his chest and arms, sickly red-black in the moonlight. I stared past him at the broken shape in the shadows. “Why are you naked?” The words came out high and unsteady.

Kyle stared down at me, a mixture of fear and sadness on his face. “I won’t hurt you.”

Of course he wouldn’t hurt me. Why would he? Why was it even a question? “Why is there blood on your arms?” I whisper-asked, my voice quaking.

He cringed and stared at the ground.

“Kyle?”

He shook his head.

I pressed my hands to the sides of my skul, trying to keep my thoughts from splitting me in two. He couldn’t be infected. Not Kyle. “What did you do?”

He reached for me and I cringed away, scooting backward on my butt. “Is he dead? Did you kil him?”

my butt. “Is he dead? Did you kil him?”

Kyle shook his head. “He’s alive.”

“But you attacked him? You’re infected. Oh God.” I doubled over, fighting the urge to retch.

Faster than was humanly possible, Kyle was on me. My whole body stiffened as he cradled me against his chest.

“I had to.” His voice was thick and I realized he was crying.

Kyle never cried. It wasn’t Kyle. “I had to save you. Please, Mac.”

His bare skin was tacky with blood; he was covering me in it. I tried to push him away and everywhere our skin touched, mine came back red.

“Lemme go.” My hands were sticky—I didn’t realize blood could be so thick and sticky. “Kyle, let me go!”

He dropped his arms, hugging himself like he was the one who needed protection. “I would never hurt you.”

“You’re covered in someone else’s blood!” The aley swam in and out of focus.

Kyle glared into the shadows where Jimmy was lying like a broken tin soldier and a low growl rumbled in his throat. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Kyle didn’t growl. Couldn’t growl.

It wasn’t Kyle. This wasn’t real.

I scrambled to my feet. Not a good idea. The aley tilted. The wals caved in and the ground rushed up. Blackness claimed me again.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

.....................................................................

Chapter 11

“WOW. JASON REALLY LET YOU DOWN, HUH?” AMY SAT next to me, resting her back against the brick wal. “He does that. More than you’d think.”

I wrapped my arms around my legs and pressed my chin to my knees. I didn’t answer.

There was a spot of blood on my hand. She reached out and dipped her finger in it, then grimaced. “These things are always so messy.”

Strange noises and scents drifted into the aley. Steady beeping.

Bleach. The crackle of an intercom.

Amy sighed and roled her eyes. “Guess we’l just have to talk later.” She pushed herself to her feet and rippled. Her image and the aley wals swirled together and became bright light.

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