Havoc (7 page)

“Excuse me?” I sputtered.

Beside me, Spencer shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

“Actually, Father, she's my friend,” Dalton said, his voice as steely as the room around us. “I want her to ask the questions.”

Mr. McKinney looked between his son, Spencer, and me, then waved a hand. “Go ahead, then, Emily Webb.”

My fingers clenched into the side of my chair, and my blush was fully gone now. Yeah, no, I definitely did
not
like this man.

I let out a slow breath of air through my teeth. “All right, Mr. McKinney. We want to know about BioZenith.”

Mr. McKinney crossed his legs, his eyes boring into my own. “BioZenith is a bioengineering firm that was formed in 1978. Its goal is to improve the science of horticulture, most specifically in the fields of mass farming. We're the reason you can get seedless grapes and tomatoes year-round. We are considered number one when it comes to these sciences—hence the company name. We are the zenith, the first and the best.”

I nodded, but did not tear my gaze away from his. I could sense he was purposely doing the same, and I could feel the wolf part of me in the back of my head absolutely refusing to look away. He slowly rocked in his chair, back and forth, back and forth, thinking he was the alpha here. It was really pissing werewolf me off—and regular me, too, for that matter.

“Interesting,” I said. “So BioZenith has always been just about fruits and veggies? You never, ever experimented with, say, livestock or other animals?”

Mr. McKinney stopped rocking, uncrossed his legs. “Not to my knowledge, Emily Webb, no. I joined BioZenith in 1990, well after the company was first founded. If there was ever any experimentation with livestock or”—his mouth twitched—“other animals, it would have been in the early years, long before I was even in college.”

Our staring contest remained unfinished. Again I could feel Spencer shifting uncomfortably beside me.

“All right, on to more modern stuff then,” I said. My lips were tight. My fingers clenched into the seat even tighter. “So do you have any theories on why a scientist from your veggie lab tried to kill your son six days ago?”

“Whoa, Em Dub,” Spencer whispered beside me. Dalton laughed involuntarily, then caught himself.

Mr. McKinney's whole face twitched, and finally, his gaze faltered.

“Dalton, what is this?” he said, his voice low but firm.

“Just questions, Father,” Dalton said softly, his tone icy.

“These aren't questions I'm going to answer,” the man said, refusing to look at me anymore. “In fact, considering that what happened to you is part of an ongoing police investigation, I
can't
answer questions like this from your classmates.” He stood up, shoving his chair back. “I think you should show your friends out now, D. I'm sure your mother has dinner almost ready. And I have work to get to.”

“Sure thing,” Dalton said, getting up from his own weird chair and gesturing for Spencer and me to do the same. “We'll finish our research later, guys.”

I forced myself to contain my shaking as Spencer and I followed Dalton out into the hall. Mr. McKinney followed us as we headed back into the kitchen. I could almost feel him glaring into the back of my skull, and I hated the feeling. It reminded me of what it felt like to sense the shadowmen watching. Or Dr. Elliott.

The kitchen was empty when we came back into it. But there were voices coming from the dining room. Several voices.

The three of us and Dalton's father exited the kitchen—and found Mrs. McKinney sitting at the table, laughing amicably with a pair of girls I recognized immediately.

Dalton's gorgeous girlfriend, Nikki, with her perfect pale skin and long, deep red hair.

And beautiful, tanned Amy Delgado, with her mane of purposely untamed black hair and the telltale mole next to her nose that made it easy to tell her apart from her sisters.

At the sight of me, both girls stopped laughing. To their credit, they did their best to hide any sneers they wanted to shoot my way.

Well, I was certainly feeling loved in the McKinney household that day, let me tell you what.

“Heeey, Nik,” Dalton drawled. He came up behind her, draped his arms over her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head for several seconds. She clasped his hands and closed her eyes as he did, a contented smile on her face.

“Nikki!” Dalton's father boomed as he caught sight of her himself. As Dalton moved away, his father placed a hand on Nikki's shoulder. “How are you holding up? School go well today?”

“Yeah, it went fine,” Nikki said with a shrug.

Amy laughed, and I swear it was the first time I'd ever seen her express anything other than revulsion when she was around me. “Oh girl, please, it was epic. Mr. McKinney, not only did everyone absolutely mob your son, they demanded we have an impromptu, after-school gathering. Like, most of the school came, and us girls did a cheer for him. The class president got us cake and pizza. It was great.”

“All for our little superhero, huh?” Mr. McKinney said. Smiling proudly, he slapped Dalton on the back. Dalton just shrugged.

“It
was
pretty sweet, Em, you shoulda come,” Spencer said.

Nikki turned in her seat, as though noticing us for the first time. “Oh, hey, Spencer. Emily.”

I offered a tight smile and a quick wave. Amy rolled her eyes.

Mr. McKinney took a seat at the head of the table. “So what brought you girls by?”

“They want to have a party here, dear,” Mrs. McKinney said.

Dalton's father gave his wife a sidelong glance. “Honey, you know I wasn't talking to you. It's been a long time since you were a girl.” He boomed another laugh. Everyone except Dalton and me offered a chuckle.

“Well, the celebration after school was fine,” Nikki said, taking up where Mrs. McKinney left off. “But we figure it wasn't as much fun as it could be not on school grounds.”

Again Mr. McKinney laughed. “Well, of course.”

“So,” Nikki went on, “we were hoping we could hold a private party here Friday night. A welcome home for Dalton.”

Mr. McKinney stood from his chair, all smiles and good cheer. “Of course you can. But I'm going to let you girls talk it out, as I need to work. Once Dalton walks his guests out, he can help you. Right, D?”

Dalton blinked slowly. He looked around the table, then shrugged. “I can't right now. I promised to drive Emily home.”

“You what?” Spencer said.

Dalton elbowed him.

Mr. McKinney grunted. “Fine. Take her home, then straight back here. You may be a superhero, but you still need to rest after what happened. You've only been home for a day.”

“Fine,” Dalton said.

Mr. McKinney met my eyes again. He was still smiling, but his eyes were cold.

“It was interesting meeting you, Emily Webb.”

I swallowed, then nodded. “You too, Mr. McKinney.” Dalton's father left by way of the kitchen, and again Dalton turned to usher Spencer and me forward. As I turned, I saw Amy flick her fingers at me dismissively. The skin on the back of my skull prickled at the gesture, like needles were poking me. God, that girl bugged me.

“I'll see you later, Dalton,” Nikki said softly.

“'Kay, Nik.”

And then, we were mercifully away from Dalton's father and the cheerleaders who hated me, and back in the foyer.

I let out a long, deep breath. My hands were shaking. Had I really just asked a man if he knew why a coworker tried to kill his son? Had I been wrong in sensing he knew something? If I wasn't, did that mean he knew who and what I was? What if he wanted to pick up where Dr. Elliott left off?

Distantly I heard Spencer ask, “You really want to drive

Emily home?”

“Yeah,” Dalton responded, his voice just as far away. “If it's cool. I just don't want to plan a party all night.”

Arms wrapped around me in a hug. Spencer. His musky, sweet scent washed over me like it always did when we were this close. My hands stopped shaking. My mind stopped racing.

He pulled away, much too soon. “See you tomorrow, Em Dub.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Actually, we should meet up for sure. That party they're planning might be a good time to get back into Mr. McKinney's office.”

Dalton nodded. “Could be. He won't be home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer said. To Dalton, he said, “Okay, she's all yours. Don't try to take advantage of her or anything.”

Dalton looked between Spencer and me. “She your girl now, man?”

“No,” I answered quickly.

Spencer looked at me, eyes hurt, but he shrugged it off with a goofy grin. “Just friends, man. But you saw Emily with your dad. She's sort of a badass.”

I ducked my head. “Yeah, not quite.”

Dalton shook his head, not quite looking at me. “Nah, Emily,” he said. “You kinda are.”

Spencer left first to get his minivan out of the way. I slipped on my shoes and stood on the now-dark porch, listening to the rain patter against the roof as I waited for Dalton to gather my bag with the still-unread shadowmen books.

Spencer's scent had calmed me down, like it always did, but with him gone I could feel the fears and worries inching back. But hey, soon I'd be home, and I could pilfer a couple more of my stepmom's sleeping pills, and then—merciful escape.

Oh wow, how druggie does that sound? Sleeping pills and a boy's smell to erase my problems—a slippery slope to hard-core escapist drug abuse? Soon it would be crack cocaine! Black tar heroin! Crystal meth!

Or not.

Dalton finally came outside with my bag, still in his workout clothes but now wearing a jacket with the hood up. I put my hood over my head as well, and we ran to the Lexus in the driveway. Soon we were on our way back to my house, the radio blaring some song in full digital surround sound. Dalton sang along at the top of his lungs. Or tried to, anyway. He kept forgetting the words and sort of mumbled nonsense to the melody, laughing to himself but not saying much to me.

Finally we pulled up in front of my house, which seemed incredibly dinky and low rent after being in Dalton's pristine and magazine-style home. And not a moment too soon. I'm not sure how the time had flown by so fast, but it was already getting close to eight p.m.

Dalton watched me silently as I gathered my bag and checked my pockets to make sure they still contained everything I'd brought with me—my keys, my ID.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” I said. “And for the talk. It's nice to find another one of us, even if we don't know why we are what we are.”

He said nothing, just smiled at me.

I bit my lip. “And, uh, sorry about the weirdness with your dad. He kind of made me a little mad. I swear I'm not usually like that. I never talk back to anyone, ever.” I thought of the recent nights when I'd gotten into fights, tossed boys around, and punched a killer in the face. “Well, mostly not. Okay, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.”

As I grabbed the door handle, his hand shot out and caught my wrist.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in close.

I leaned away. He was getting way too close again, just like in his room. Like he was invading my space but didn't quite realize it wasn't normal.

“H-hey?” I said, my voice quiet. “Do you want me to grab some sleeping pills for you? Oh, maybe I should.”

He closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath through his nose. He exhaled, an elated look on his face.

“Wow,” he said, then opened his eyes once more. “Do you know how you smell?”

“Uh…”

He shook his head. “Not bad, Emily. It isn't bad. It makes me feel calm. I don't ever feel calm.” He leaned in closer and smelled me again.

And I realized: Pheromones. Was this what I was like when I was around Spencer? All clingy and sniffy? How immensely embarrassing. Suddenly I longed to retroactively erase every encounter I'd had with Spencer since Sunday.

But wait, the only reason I reacted to Spencer that way was because he is, I guess, my “mate.” Right? I could smell Dalton's own personal wolf scent, but it didn't do much except remind me of what was missing. And that was Spencer. So why would Dalton find
me
so alluring? I mean, the guy was cute and all, but despite nighttime me's face-licking the week before, I wasn't exactly pining for the dude. Surely I was only meant to have the one mate, and he me.

Unless it was just that he hadn't found
his
so-called mate. Maybe that was the other girl, the one we hadn't found yet. When I was in my searching phase, I definitely hadn't been picky. I lusted after a vial of liquid pheromones, even. Talk about desperate.

Gently, I shoved Dalton back. “I know this is all new to you, but this is normal, I think. It's just pheromones. It's the wolf brain talking, okay? I'm not doing anything or wearing any perfume.”

He let go of my wrist and nodded. Then he said, “No.”

“No?”

“I don't want sleeping pills. You asked before.”

I nodded slowly. “Oh. Okay. But Dalton, if you don't take them…”

“I know,” he said, running his hand over his stubbly red hair. “But I don't care, Emily. And I don't know why you do either. From the stories you told me, you sound like you get hard-core. When you change, I mean.”

I thought of the last time I'd changed. The terrifying images of the killer scientist. The smell of death, the taste of blood.

But it was true, by night, when I was her, or that side of me, or whatever it is—when I was Nighttime, none of that bothered me. I was fearless. I owned the night.

A night where now shadowmen could find me when I was asleep, unprepared, unchanged, just normal me. Like last night.

Dalton was close to me again, whispering in my ear excitedly. “Don't go to sleep, Emily,” he said. “Change with me. Show me how to do it right. I don't want to just sleep when I know I can be so much more than I usually am.”