Hemlock (13 page)

I knocked his hand aside and stepped back. “Nothing. I fel.”

He glanced at my neck. The colar of my shirt had slipped down just far enough to show the edge of the bruises, bruises that looked like fingerprints. I tugged the colar back up.

Not fast enough.

Jason swore under his breath. “Did something happen at the club?”

I struggled to keep my voice steady, but it cracked around the edges. “Nothing happened. I tripped and fel.”

“Right.” Jason’s cheeks flushed as though he had a fever, and he unfastened the top two buttons of his coat. “Is that why you haven’t answered your phone and Kyle told me to leave you alone for a couple of days? Because you fel?”

The anger in his voice brought mine rushing to the surface. He didn’t have the right to be angry, not when he had disappeared. I was the one Jimmy and Alexis had folowed and hurt. I had woken up in the hospital and had had to listen while that Fisher woman up in the hospital and had had to listen while that Fisher woman implied that I was weak and confused. And I was the one Derby had gone to with his threats.

Nothing had touched Jason. Nothing ever touched Jason.

My vision blurred and I closed my eyes. I would
not
cry in front of him. If I did, he’d never let this go. He’d find out the truth and Derby would come after the both of us. In that moment, I hated him.

I opened my eyes.

Voice low and earnest, Jason said, “If something happened, you can tel me. I can help.”

I choked back a bitter laugh. The idea of Jason helping anyone was ludicrous.

“Mac . . .”

I shook my head. “Where were you? Friday night, at the club, where were you?”

He sighed and pushed his hair back with both hands, leaving it sticking up in little peaks and valeys. “I saw you talking with Ethan and I went to the guys’ room to—”

“Puke your guts out?”

He blushed. “I blacked out. When I came to, you were gone.”

“And you didn’t go looking for me.”
Kyle would have gone
looking for me. Kyle did go looking for me. Part of this is your
fault. You wanted to go to Bonnie and Clyde. You weren’t
there.

My head pounded with the effort of holding the words back.

And al to protect him from Derby—even after he hadn’t protected me.

me.

Masochistic friendship at its best.

And I was so tired of it.

Jason spread his hands. “I’m sorry, al right? Be mad if you want, but at least tel me what happened.”

I crossed my arms. Uttering each word slowly and distinctly, I said, “I told you. I. Fel.”

“
Mac
,” he breathed my name like a curse. His face looked haunted, the way it had in the weeks after Amy’s death. “Whatever happened, you can tel me. If someone hurt you, I’l . . .” He clenched his fists at his side. There were scrapes on his knuckles, ones that hadn’t been there a day and a half ago.

For a moment, my resolve shook. I wanted to believe in Jason. I wanted to believe he could be strong and capable and someone I could turn to when I was in trouble.

I wanted to believe he could be the way he used to be.

“I can help you. Let me help you.”

I stared into his bloodshot eyes and then glanced at the slight bulge on the left side of his jacket, the teltale bulk of a bottle. A slow, painful ache built in my chest.

Maybe the old Jason would have been able to help me. Not this one. Not this wreck who had slowly replaced my Jason over the weeks and months until it was hard to remember a time when I counted on him for anything. I took a deep breath. “When was the last time you were able to help anyone?”

For a split second, he looked stunned, and then his face slid into a cold, impassive mask. He looked like his father: handsome and a cold, impassive mask. He looked like his father: handsome and cruel. “Fine,” he said, turning and heading for the door. So softly that I almost didn’t catch it, he added, “You’re worse than Amy when it comes to secrets.”

Amy.

I remembered what she had said in my dream, the hints that Derby might not want her kiler to be found right away. And I remembered the thought I’d had after the Tracker meeting, the idea that maybe I could do something to find the thing responsible for her death.

A year ago, one of Jason’s uncles had been arrested for fraud.

One cal from Jason’s father and it had al been swept under the rug. At the time, people complained that the police department would do anything for a Sheffield.

Jason reached for the knob.

“There is something you can do for me.” The words came out in a rush and left an acidic taste in my mouth.

He froze. “What’s that?”

“I want the police report on Amy.”

Jason turned and gaped. “I don’t have it.”

“But you can get it.” I was very certain of that. He just had to find the right person—or ask his father to get it for him.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Please, Jason. I’ve never asked you for anything.”

“Don’t ask me for this. Ask me for anything else and I’l do it—

just don’t ask for this.” His hands shook at his sides, just the slightest tremble. “Why do you even want it?”

I couldn’t tel him the real reason. He wouldn’t get it for me and I couldn’t tel him the real reason. He wouldn’t get it for me and he might tel Derby. I shivered, imaging what Derby’s reaction would be if he thought I was meddling in the Trackers’ business.

And he would definitely consider Amy’s death their domain.

“I just want to know more about what happened that night. I think it would help me deal with things.”

Jason turned back to the door. “It wouldn’t. Trust me. If I could forget everything about that night, I would.”

Before I could argue, before I could ask again, he was gone.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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

“MAC?” TESS POKED HER HEAD THROUGH THE BATHROOM door.

“Serena is on the phone. Do you want me to take a message?”

I put down the scissors I was holding and turned around.

Tess’s eyebrows shot up so far that they were practicaly in orbit. “What in the name of al things holy did you do to your hair?”

I scrunched up my face and tugged on my new bangs. “It’s not I scrunched up my face and tugged on my new bangs. “It’s not that bad, is it? I was trying to hide the stitches.” The stupid gash on my forehead stood out like Harry Potter’s lightning bolt. Even Jason, as oblivious as he was to everything, had noticed it right away.

“Hon, it looks like you were mauled by a Weedwacker.”

Scowling, I held out my hand. Wisely, Tess passed me the phone and retreated without another word.

I glanced in the mirror as I pressed the phone to my ear. The bangs didn’t look
that
bad. The art teacher I’d had last year was always going on about asymmetrical compositions. That’s what the bangs were. Not crooked. Asymmetrical. “Hey, Serena.”

“Good. You’re alive. Now you can tel me why you haven’t answered any of the texts or messages I’ve left you since Friday.

Where have you been?”

My stomach knotted.

I couldn’t tel Serena the truth. I trusted her, but I couldn’t risk that she might accidentaly let something slip to Jason. Besides, I had a feeling that the less people knew about my interaction with the Trackers, the safer they’d be.

I had even lied to Tess about Derby’s visit.

“Jason and I went to Bonnie and Clyde and I lost my cel phone.”

“Let me guess: you dropped it while rubbing soothing circles on Jason’s back as he puked.”

I sighed. “Something like that.”

“Someone needs to tel him that the drunken and tragic antihero isn’t al that sexy in real life. I ran into him last night and he was isn’t al that sexy in real life. I ran into him last night and he was wobbling like a human dreidel. And the guys he was with—”

“Serena?”

“Yeah?”

“I realy,
really
don’t want to talk about Jason right now.” I leaned against the bathroom sink and took a deep breath. I stared at my reflection. My eyes were dry, but they were red-rimmed and bloodshot. It had been hours since Jason had left, but I was stil feeling shaky.

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy. I was pretty sure Serena was trying to figure out if she could pry without technicaly mentioning Jason’s name. Finaly, she said, “Do you want to do something tonight? There’s a horror movie playing across the river.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The idea of paying ten bucks for a scare right now was kind of hilarious—in a vomit-inducing way.

“Rain check? I’m seeing Kyle later.”

It took five minutes of promising Serena that she could pick the next two movies we saw, but I finaly got off the phone.

Tess looked up as I walked into the living room. I perched on the arm of the couch and grimaced as the muscles in my back objected. It was nearing Advil time again.

She shuffled her Tarot deck—a gift from an ex who had tried to cultivate a new age streak she didn’t actualy posses.

“What are you doing with those things? You don’t even know how to read them.”

She shrugged and drew a card at random. “I just think they’re She shrugged and drew a card at random. “I just think they’re pretty. Plus, I like to make up my own rules for them.” She held up the seven of cups. “Like this one? Means they’re totaly going to be swamped at the Cat tonight.”

“I don’t need you to stay home,” I said for the eighth time. I took a deep breath. “But I do need a favor.”

Tess tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear. Her eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re not going to ask me if you can go out tonight.”

“Just to Kyle’s.” There was no need to tel her that I wasn’t entirely sure Kyle would let me in. I hadn’t exactly lied when I told Serena that I was seeing him later: I was determined to see him—it was just that he had been ignoring my cals and texts al afternoon.

I tried to look sweet and angelic and responsible. “I was hoping I could borrow Dragon.” Dragon was Tess’s mostly green Toyota.

The car was so old that they’d stopped making the right shade of touch-up paint, so every time Tess scratched the car—which was often—she just used the first tube of paint she came across.

“Mac . . .” Tess struggled to find the right words, her face more serious than I had ever seen it. “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, and I’m trying to respect that. You’re tough

—I get it—but I think you should take it easy and stay close to home for a few days. I can cal the school tomorrow, see if you can miss some classes—”

I shook my head. “If I skip school, I’l go crazy. I need the distraction. And I want to see Kyle. Seeing Kyle is normal. Safe.”

Or it would be if he weren’t a werewolf.

“Maybe I could go with you. I don’t like the idea of you going

“Maybe I could go with you. I don’t like the idea of you going out on your own.” On a good day, Tess could pass for nineteen.

She almost never looked over twenty-one. But the past forty-eight hours had left dark circles under her eyes and there were faint lines on her face that I’d never noticed—not wrinkles, not exactly.

Worry lines, maybe.

I felt a twinge of guilt for putting her through so much. Part of me wanted to tel her that I’d stay in and we could order pizza, watch
Pretty in Pink
, and make fun of Moly Ringwald’s prom dress.

But I had to talk to Kyle.

The longer I waited to see him, the more awkward and tangled things would get. And the fact that he wasn’t answering my texts or cals worried me. A lot.

“I’l be fine. Realy. I’l go straight to Kyle’s and I’l keep the car doors locked and I won’t drive over twenty miles an hour.”

Tess bit her lip and studied my face. After a very long minute, she asked, “Do you realy need to see Kyle tonight?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I realy do.”

She sighed and stood. “Okay. You can borrow Dragon. But first we have to fix the mess you’ve made of your hair.”

Tess almost always parked on the street. She told Ben she did it to save time, but I knew it was realy because the pigeons that hung around the back of the building freaked her out. We’d watched
The Birds
last year, and ever since, she claimed the pigeons were just biding time before making their move.

For some reason, 90 percent of Tess’s fears seemed to come from movies we watched on cable.

from movies we watched on cable.

I walked down the crumbling stone pathway that led to the street and passed a black sedan with tinted windows and Tennessee plates. It looked too nice to belong to anyone in the building, but there were a few colege students living on the first and second floors; maybe someone’s parents were visiting.

I unlocked Dragon, slid behind the wheel, and adjusted the seat to compensate for the fact that Tess’s legs were practicaly a mile longer than mine.

“You’d so better be home,” I muttered as I started toward Kyle’s. I’d sent a dozen texts and left at least six voice mail messages over the last four hours. Unless there was something wrong with his phone, he had some serious explaining to do.

My wrist ached slightly as I gripped the steering wheel, but it was bearable. I hardly noticed it after the first few minutes.

I turned off Elmwood and glanced in the mirror. The sedan was behind me.

Coincidence. Had to be.

I took the next right. The sedan was stil there, an ominous, black blot in my rearview mirror.

I swalowed and tried to ignore the way the muscles in my chest tightened. I wasn’t being folowed. That was off-the-charts paranoid. Why would anyone want to folow me? Al I was doing was going to Kyle’s.

And Kyle wasn’t important. He was just . . .

The werewolf who had saved my life and infected Branson Derby’s nephew.

Derby’s nephew.

Fighting the urge to floor the gas pedal, I took the next two lefts and then another right, driving in a large, circuitous route that didn’t actualy go anywhere. The black car copied every turn.

I nudged the car up to thirty. The sedan didn’t speed up—