Hemlock (26 page)

Ben’s truck came into view.

“I guess,” I said.

Kyle stopped. “What do you mean, you guess? You didn’t actualy believe any of that stuff he said about Jason.” He stared at me, eyes wide. “Mac, tel me you don’t believe any of that.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “No,” I said. “Of course not.” But even to my own ears, I sounded uncertain. Jason
had
changed—and if I was realy honest, the changes had started changed—and if I was realy honest, the changes had started before Amy’s death.

“It’s just . . . He spent al summer lying about what happened that night. And he let you feel guilty for not answering Amy’s cal when, al along, it was his fault she was out by herself.”

Kyle stared at me like he’d never seen me before. “That doesn’t make him a murderer.”

I suddenly wished I had never asked Jason for the file, that I had never tried to look into any of this. Better to never have any answers than to wonder—even for a milisecond—if Jason could have hurt Amy. To have Kyle stare at me like I was a complete stranger.

The blighted street blurred and I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket.

Kyle shook his head and strode away, like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. When he reached Ben’s truck, he stopped, put both hands on the hood, and stared down at the ground.

After a few minutes, not knowing what else to do, I walked over to him.

He didn’t look up. “You were the one who told me I needed to have more faith in Jason,” he said softly. He flexed his hands against the hood.

I bit my lip. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you wondered if maybe Bishop was right, or sorry that I know you wondered?”

I flushed with shame. “Both, I guess.” I felt unbelievably smal and wretched. “What do we do now?”

Kyle straightened. “Now we go talk to Trey. After you drop off Kyle straightened. “Now we go talk to Trey. After you drop off Ben’s keys. My car is parked on the next block.”

“You don’t have to keep helping me,” I said, the words carving a hole in my chest.

“Yeah,” said Kyle, “I do.” He started walking, slower this time so I wouldn’t have trouble keeping up. “Amy was my friend, too.

If Bishop was teling the truth about the drugs and the fur, I have to know.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out. I was struck silent as a white werewolf stepped out of the shadows in front of Kyle’s car.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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

THE CRACKED PAVEMENT, RUN-DOWN BUILDINGS, AND overgrown lots fel away. Al I could see was the white wolf. I didn’t move. I barely breathed. I was frozen, pinned to the spot like a butterfly in a shadow box.

a shadow box.

Kyle had parked under a streetlight, and even from a distance, I could tel the wolf’s muzzle was covered in something thick and dark. The pictures of Amy flashed through my head, the ones where her upper body had been reduced to a huge, gaping wound.

The wolf bared its teeth as Kyle slowly stepped in front of me.

He reached into his pocket and then pressed something into my hand: his car keys and pocket knife.

He was joking, right? Going against a werewolf with a two-inch blade was like trying to stop a tank by throwing a pebble.

“I’l draw it away,” he whispered, voice pitched so low that I had to strain to hear him over my thundering heartbeat and the snarling wolf. “Take the car and get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

The wolf began stalking toward us, taking its time like it was playing a game.

Kyle stepped forward and I grabbed his arm, desperately trying to haul him back. “If that’s the thing that kiled Amy,” I hissed, filed with panic, “then it’s kiled four people.”

The muscles in Kyle’s arm shifted under my hand, and I stumbled away as bones shattered.

“I’m not people.”

With a strangled cry, Kyle fel to the ground. His spine arched as his bones and muscles were forced into new shapes and positions. Nightmarish crunching and tearing sounds came from his body as it ripped itself apart and knit itself back together. His clothing fel away in tattered shreds as fur flowed over his skin.

clothing fel away in tattered shreds as fur flowed over his skin.

Taking advantage of Kyle’s momentary weakness, the white wolf leaped, trying to fasten its jaws around Kyle’s throat before he could complete the shift.

It was too late. Kyle roled away and was suddenly a brown, snarling wolf.

The two wolves circled each other.

Wolf-Kyle glanced at me and then started backing toward a trash-filed vacant lot.

The white wolf leaped and the two colided in a dizzying blur of fur, claws, and teeth.

I had to do something to help Kyle. Anything.

I spotted a broken brick a few feet from the car and scrambled to get my hands on it. I heard a high-pitched whine from the lot, and when I turned, the white wolf had Kyle pinned. It sank its teeth into Kyle’s back, piercing the skin and muscle beneath the fur.

Panic surged in my chest. Kyle was going to lose.

He let out a keening, broken sound and I darted forward.

Neither wolf paid any attention to me.

Hoisting my brick, I aimed at the white werewolf’s head and threw as hard as I could. The brick colided with the wolf’s skul and then bounced to the ground.

It let go of Kyle and barked out a surprised yelp just as I realized my plan didn’t have a step two.

Heart pounding and body flooded with adrenaline, I sprinted to the Honda. Clutching Kyle’s car keys, I pressed the button to trip the locks. My fingers skimmed the door handle just as the wolf colided with my side and sent me sprawling.

colided with my side and sent me sprawling.

Al the air was forced out of my lungs in a whoosh as I landed on my stomach. My palms stung where they had slapped the pavement. I had dropped the keys on impact.

Gasping, I roled to my back just as a brown blur of fur sailed over me.

Kyle tried to gain a hold on the white werewolf, but it was no use. The other wolf was larger and better at fighting. I fumbled behind me, trying to find the keys, and watched, helpless, as the white wolf clamped its jaw over Kyle’s throat and shook him like a rag dol.

It tossed him aside and Kyle lay, dazed and broken, on the ground.

With Kyle out of the way, the wolf turned on me.

It padded forward, a growl reverberating in its throat that set my skin crawling. The stench of it made my stomach flip. Kyle and Heather smeled kind of like the forest when they transformed; the thing in front of me smeled like something rotten and dead. The fur around its mouth was matted with blood.

My fingers closed around the keys and I pushed myself backward, wincing as my shoulder blades colided with the car door.

The wolf tilted its head to the side and the growl sputtered, like a lawn mower engine that wouldn’t catch. Something slipped behind its eyes, some emotion or thought. The wolf shook its head

—the way crazy people did in movies when they heard voices.

It took another step forward and shook its head again. The strangest feeling swept over me. I felt like it
knew
me.

strangest feeling swept over me. I felt like it
knew
me.

But as soon as the thought entered my head, the wolf made a sudden lunge.

Screaming, I covered my face and head with my arms, waiting for claws to tear me to shreds.

Nothing happened.

Cautiously, I lowered my arms.

Wolf-Kyle was struggling to get back up, his hind legs scrambling against the pavement like they didn’t want to work. The movement and noise had caught the white wolf’s attention, and it had abandoned me to creep toward him.

Shaking, I forced myself to my feet and wrenched open the car door. I threw myself behind the wheel, slammed the door behind me, and jammed the key into the ignition.

I glanced out the window. Kyle, stil in wolf form, had made it to his feet and was trying to fend off the white wolf as it circled him and made random lunges, like a cat toying with a mouse.

I yanked on my seat belt, gunned the ignition, and shoved the car into drive.

The Honda’s headlights bounced over the deserted street and shone on the two wolves in front of me. I aimed the car at the white wolf and floored it. The werewolf tried to dart out of the way, but I yanked the wheel hard to the left and clipped its hindquarters.

I said a quick prayer of thanks that Tess had dated that defensive driving instructor as the car bounced over the curb.

There was a blur of movement on my right: Wolf-Kyle.

There was a blur of movement on my right: Wolf-Kyle.

I hit the brakes and tried to reach the passenger-side door. It took me two tries before I realized the seat belt was holding me back. I unbuckled the belt, pushed open the door, and then wedged myself as far to the driver’s side as possible, giving Kyle enough room to scramble between the seats and into the back.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. The white wolf was unsteadily getting to its feet.

I closed the passenger-side door and slammed the gearshift into reverse, fuly intending to hit the wolf with several hundred pounds of Japanese engineering.

But before I could take my foot off the brake, two black SUVs barreled around the corner at the other end of the block.

Without thinking, I threw the car into drive and sped down the street. I glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see the white wolf bolt for a vacant lot as the two SUVs screeched to a halt and men with what looked like guns tumbled out.

I didn’t ease up on the gas until we were out of the Meadows.

I kiled the engine and lights. “I’l be as quick as I can,” I said.

Wolf-Kyle raised his head and watched as I slid out of the car and stepped onto the uneven, rocky ground. A year from now, this would be a strip mal, but al the developers had done so far was buldoze a bunch of rocks and trees.

Across the street, the Walmart sign glowed like a beacon. I could have parked in the lot, but I was feeling extra paranoid. I couldn’t remember if there were cameras outside and I hadn’t wanted to risk someone catching a naked Kyle on grainy security wanted to risk someone catching a naked Kyle on grainy security footage. For al I knew, Derby had put out an al-points buletin asking local department stores to be on the lookout for suspicious naked people trying to procure discount clothing.

I carefuly picked my way across the building site until I reached the road, and then I made a mad dash for the Walmart doors.

Hemlock didn’t have a twenty-four-hour department store and it was ten minutes until closing.

The guy who rounded up the shopping carts stared as I hurtled past him and into the store. Stumbling to a walk, I tried to brush some of the dirt from my face and jacket as I went in search of the menswear department.

Other customers shot me curious glances and I tried not to shiver. The bright lights, familiar plastic smels, and neatly ordered shelves seemed completely alien after what had just happened.

Guessing at Kyle’s size, I grabbed a pair of Levi’s and a gray sweatshirt. Feeling slightly evil, I added a pair of boxers adorned with little hearts to the pile. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

A voice crackled over the PA system, announcing that the store would be closing in five minutes.

I darted to the shoes and grabbed the first cheap pair of sneakers I found in size thirteen. Serena had checked Kyle’s Vans once, and then made a speculative comment as to the dimensions of something else. Ever since, it had been easy to remember Kyle’s shoe size.

Blushing and struggling to hold on to everything, I raced to the smal pharmacy section and grabbed a container of baby wipes.

Mission accomplished, I headed for the nearest checkout.

Mission accomplished, I headed for the nearest checkout.

I scanned the magazines and tabloids as I waited. There was a copy of
Newsweek
wedged between
Cosmo
and
Star
. The cover advertised an interview with Amy’s grandfather—Senator Walsh

—and there was a smal picture of him shaking hands with Branson Derby. I reached for the magazine, but the line advanced and the cashier started ringing up my things.

I tried not to wince at the total as I swiped my debit card. Then, bags and receipt in hand, I headed back across the road.

Kyle had already shifted. He roled down the window and I passed him the clothes before walking around to the other side of the car and sliding behind the wheel.

Unable to help myself, I glanced in the rearview mirror and glimpsed a strip of pale skin as Kyle got dressed. “Are you okay?”

With a sick feeling, I remembered how the other wolf had torn into him with its teeth.

“Yeah. Shifting speeds up the healing process.”

“I thought . . .” I shook my head, unable to get the words out. I had been so horribly certain the other wolf would win. A fine trembling started in my shoulders. I could have lost him. I almost
had
lost him.

Kyle squeezed my shoulder and I grabbed his hand, trying to convince myself that he was solid and real and unhurt.

“I’m okay, Mac,” he said softly. “Realy.”

I nodded and sucked in a deep breath. Then I forced myself to let go of Kyle’s hand.

I opened the package of baby wipes, flipped down the sun visor, and then studied my face in the mirror as I tried to clean off visor, and then studied my face in the mirror as I tried to clean off some of the grime.

“What about you? Are you al right?”

“Just scraped up a bit.” It was kind of miraculous. The wolf could easily have kiled me and al I had were a few scratches. It didn’t make any sense. It . . . I reeled and gripped the steering wheel as a horrible thought took shape. “Kyle?”

He reached between the seats and snagged a handful of wipes.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think . . .” I couldn’t get the thought out and had to start again. “Do you think Jason could have been the wolf we just saw?”

“Do I think Jason was the wolf who tackled you and nearly severed my spine with its teeth, you mean?” He snorted. “No.”