Predator Girl (A Paranormal Romance) (2 page)

The bus smelled like gym socks. An improvement compared to last week’s eau de rotten milk, but I still wrinkled my nose. Maybe that’s why it was so empty that morning. The only crowd, mostly freshmen and sophomores, had stuffed themselves in back.

Besides Will and Leo, I tried not to associate with any of the fresh meat at Hunters High School. New Finders are always airheads, their egos leaking out of every pore because they have the Sight, because they can do something that few people in the world can do. I flopped down in the middle of the bus, well away from the back. I shook my head, dark bangs falling in my face. My hair was still damp from the shower. I was combing my fingers through it when I felt someone staring.

Kristin Tazmer sat across the way. She snapped her head forward as I looked at her, pale cheeks flushing. Layers of red and black hair dropped over her shoulder, but it wasn’t long enough to hide her face from me.

I blinked at her. Kristin was cute. Thin and tall, she resembled the models that Peter drooled over in the windows of Victoria Secret. Thick lashes lined her blue eyes, cleavage puckered out of her lacey dress.

I peeled my eyes away, taking them to the window. Cute was only one check mark on my list. Everybody knew that Kristin—along with several other attractive sophomores—thought I was the hottest thing since Alex Pettyfer, but it took more than lace and cleavage to hold my attention. I’m not the kind to stick around long. That’s why I would never make a move on Kristin. I knew her type; she wanted the long term, the sugar-coated, happily-ever-after stuff.

The bus squealed to a stop. We were at a crosswalk in the middle of a woodland road called Fern. Cars rarely went down that road because nothing was out there; it made a perfect exit. Everyone got off quick and casual, sprinting across the pavement. I led the way, ducking through the trees and up a dirt trail. Kristin moved swiftly, not far behind.

Because the Otherworlders were secret, the Finders were as well. Hunters High wasn’t technically a high school. That would’ve made it all too obvious to the public, drawing in unwanted attention. They had to find another way to train us while keeping humans away.

I tromped up the crest of a hill, staring down into the valley. A set of large, cement buildings sat nestled at the bottom. Iron fences lined the perimeter, barbed wire glistening across the top. Nothing repulsed people like good old juvenile hall. These buildings had been abandoned a long time ago, the county moving into a newer structure out north. The government had handed over this place about eight years back, in which time the Otherworlder population had significantly increased.

A set of burly black men in raincoats stood outside the gates. I folded my fingers, giving the smaller of the two, Earl, the peace sign. Trying to look all tough, he responded with a curt nod. It was funny. Before getting hired as a Hunters High security guard last year, Earl had been my little sister’s babysitter. I smirked, remembering how he’d let Jess smother him in makeup and plastic jewelry last time he was over.

I was through the gates, just crossing the courtyard, when I heard the clicking of Kristin’s heels. The hair on my neck stood up. I might be built to sense paranormal beings, but I could also sense when a girl tried to stare a hole through my head. She was too close to just be passing by.

“Jared!”

An arm swung around my neck. I startled, nearly stumbling over. Peter grinned as he released me from his metal hold. “What’s up, ma man?” he exclaimed. “You a little jumpy today?”

“Bug off, bro,” I laughed, giving him a shove. Hopefully my face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I’m fine. What are you talking about?”

Footsteps glided by us. Kristin didn’t glance back as she speed-walked under the covered walkway heading inside.

Peter made a funny noise. “You so owe me later,” he said, voice low as he watched her disappear. “She was a split second from tapping you on the shoulder and giving you a lecture about the history of unicorns.”

“Ah, man!” I swore to myself as he said the word
history
. “The essay. I didn’t write the essay on Avalon last night.” The incident with predator girl had thrown my thoughts clear out of the homework field.

“Don’t sweat it, dude.” Peter shrugged, looking far less concerned than I felt. “We’ll print something off the library computers.”

“Ah, Pete.” I rolled my eyes. He was so thick sometimes. “Ms. Roric knows those websites by heart. To come across even a paragraph that she hasn’t seen before would be a miracle.”

“What do you want me to say?” He cocked an eyebrow as he pushed open the front doors. “Copy off mine? I don’t want to take that fall for you, bro, especially when I actually
wrote
the essay this time.”

“All of it?” I scrutinized. Peter usually made one of his girlfriends do his homework. He’d flash a smile at some poor geek girl in Theories class and bam! Twenty-four hours later he had a typed paper that passed.

“Well, most of it.” Peter tucked his hands in his jeans pockets, a sly smile on his lips. “Anyway, new subject. What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” I hesitated, staring at the hallway. The walls were a terrible shade of yellow, the floor tiles brown and cracked. “Um. I don’t know. Why?”

“Two words for you.” He hopped in front of me, walking backward as we went by the office windows. Holding up two fingers, he said, “Siren. Lake.”

I stopped walking. Quickly, I glanced over my shoulder. “Siren Lake?”

“Yeah, baby.” His smile morphed into a Cheshire cat grin. “Nine-thirty. Leo and Will are in, and Harney and Eli are coming. You’d better be there, too.”

I swallowed, considering. Siren Lake, labeled as private property, was one of few forbidden territories in Loralin. We knew why, of course. Nestled near the center of the woods, a series of tagged water nymphs occupied its waters. Trespassing humans have drowned there, with no evidence left behind. But the nymphs liked Finders. Peter, the twins, Harney, and I had all stumbled upon the lake earlier in the summer. We were hesitant at first, since we could hear them below the water, but they hadn’t harmed us.

If anything, they loved us . . . in more explicit ways than I wish to explain.

Peter shifted his feet, getting impatient. I pursed my lips, debating whether I should listen to the demon on my shoulder taunting me with, “Go, go! You want a pretty girl that isn’t looking for commitment.”

The saint on my other shoulder whispered warnings. It was always a risk being around an Otherworlder, especially when it could change its mind at any moment and suck you down to your death. We couldn’t bring protective gear with us. Creatures like nymphs see weapons as a threat, and they might drown you just for having a pocket knife. We would have to go in weaponless.

Ah, hell, you only have one life, right? “Come get me, and we’ll go,” I said.

Peter cheered. “Yeah, that’s my boy! Supernatural love fest, here we come!”

“Harney, you dumbass, put it out,” Peter scolded. “You’re either going to attract unwanted attention, or light the damn forest on fire.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Harney huffed, flicking down the stick and grinding the orange ember into the ground with his sneaker.

Harney was a big dude, a wannabe body builder. If Hunters High had a wrestling team, he’d be on it. I’d never admit it aloud, but Harney was the kind of guy that made me nervous, and it wasn’t just because he could pick me up with one hand. Harney was reckless, as he clearly just demonstrated.

Beside him, a lanky guy with a ponytail gave a bored sigh. Eli was a hippy—or so we called him. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll: that’s all he lived for. He didn’t even care that he had the Sight, that he was a Finder. Eli was after a good time with the nymphs. He didn’t normally hang with us; at school he barely threw a wave when we met in the halls. I didn’t like him much and tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

The moon lit the way down the path. I could see the lake glittering through the trees. We were quiet tonight, unlike us. Usually we cracked jokes or innuendos. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling unnerved about returning to the lake. What if the nymphs had changed their minds about us?

The trees thinned. We scaled the metal fence. Peter and Harney took the first steps out onto the pebbly beach. A cool wind rolled off the water, ruffling our hair. It smelled like salt and fish and drowned carnage. PIU must’ve been there recently, delivering dinner to the nymphs. This was good. Hopefully, they’d be less hungry. Maybe. We hung back as Peter scouted it out. Throwing an arm over his head, he gave us the okay.

I left the bushes, and the others followed. While the boys hovered at the water’s edge, kicking the narrow tides, I slipped off my sneakers and headed out to the dock. The planks squeaked, lurching underfoot. The dock was old. So old, most wouldn’t take the risk and walk on it. Several boards were broken or missing already, but it would hold me up.

I knew, because it held the nymphs.

Something slimy soaked through my sock. I shivered, seeing a shiny coat of mermaid gunk on my foot. It was all over the end of the dock, a chemical that sea folk have to block the cold from their skin. It comes off when they’re out of the water for long periods of time; it has a pudding-like consistency. Oval scales in all shades of green and blue were strewn across the planks. Like snakes, mermaids shed their tails at least once a year, except that it doesn’t come off in one clean sheet. It comes off in pieces.

The activity in the water intensified. Bubbles came shooting to the surface. Something green splashed out in the lake’s middle. They had heard us. Shadows appeared, forming a black stream toward the guys who sat near the tides. Now they cracked their jokes and made innuendos.

I stiffened. A gentle breath hit my neck, heat rolling toward me from another body. Slowly, I tilted my head.

She had left the water silently, just like last time. Fins traded for somewhat human feet, she stood before me with a smile on her pale blue face, white locks curling to her thighs. “Jared,” she purred.

“Nilydra,” I greeted casually, but didn’t feel so calm.

“I wondered if you’d come back.” She eyed my jacket. Her fingernails, yellow and broken, tugged on the zipper. “It’s been weeks. We thought you might be too afraid to return.”

“What do I have to be afraid of?” It was a stupid question, even for a Finder. You should never test an Otherworlder. They don’t like arrogance, especially the predatory kind. They take it as a challenge. Any sign of pigheadedness may literally cost you an arm and leg.

But Nilydra laughed. It was an odd noise, sort of like a dolphin’s. “Ah, yes, great Finder. What do you have to be afraid of indeed.” She worked loose my jacket, going in for the button-up flannel I had underneath.

My skin twitched all over, but I didn’t stop her. She pressed her slick, chilly body up against my front. “You have everything to fear,” she whispered against my lips. “A man whose body loves what his soul does not tends to be shallow like the tide.” She kissed me. She tasted like salt water. “Every tide gets swept out to sea. Many among its coils don’t survive.”

“Mm,” was all I said. Hoping to shut her up about how shallow I was, I pressed my lips against hers. Hard.

She sighed, damp fingers crawling up my shirt, scratching my skin. My tongue touched her upper lip, hitting something sharp. I broke out in goose bumps, remembering the nymph’s razor-like teeth, similar to a nightling’s. Breaking away from the kiss—damn, the last thing I needed was to get bit tonight—I let her kiss my throat.

That’s when I heard it. Crunching leaves. Hard steps, even and rhythmic.

I tensed. Nilydra didn’t notice. Honing in on the sound, I picked up on the breathing. It had a feminine tone to it, and the smell: pine with dead leaves. Fur. Blood.

She was back! The untagged girl from the club was near!

“Um.” Gently, I pushed away from the nymph. She stared, one brow raised, hunger in her eyes. “I’ve, uh . . .” Crap, I needed an excuse. “I . . . got to pee. I’ll be right back.”

She rolled her eyes, bouncing up and down. “Hurry up!”

“Be back.” Ignoring the slime on my socks, I slid my feet into my sneakers.

Her footsteps echoed in the woods, somewhere, I was guessing, about fifty feet in. She was moving relatively slow. Compared to last night, I’d almost say she was taking her time. Perfect.

Nilydra’s eyes hammered me worse than Kristin’s as I left the dock. It was hard not to go bolting off and find the source of the scent before the girl disappeared. Just before I hit the woods, I pondered: was it smart to go alone? A glance over my shoulder said that alone it would be.

Peter was down to half dressed, his face glued to a black-haired siren with webbed fingers. Harney was being caressed by a threesome of nymphs with glowing skin. Eli and the twins . . . well, I won’t go into detail.

I followed the path, trying to run without making noise. It was hard, especially since the moon was half-covered again. Several times my feet went off the trail, cracking twigs or crunching foliage. I tripped twice, unable to see anything. Finally I made it to the top of a hill. Her smell clogged my nose. I knelt near a group of bushes, in the shadow of an old oak tree.