Secrets and Shadows (34 page)

“Ugh.” The smel of damp places left dark too long tickled my nose. I shut the door again and turned back to the coffee. I wouldn’t drink the stuff (today), but I’d try and use it to ward off the nastiness below.

Water steamed into the cup and habit nearly took over as I reached for the spoon. The damp plastic spoon. Didn’t Wanda say Joe got coffee in town? Huh.

I mixed in the coffee crystals and headed back along the hal , opened the door, and started down the steps. The hair on my arms rose. Something wasn’t quite right. I froze, listening for a clue, my eyes roaming.

Not
good for keeping my pulse in check.

I heard something rustle downstairs to my right and I jerked, coffee sloshing.

A mouse appeared from behind a filing cabinet and raced across the basement floor.

I breathed again and continued down the stairs.

The first shot knocked me onto my butt, coffee slinging out in a long arc. Dazed, I watched Kent emerge from behind the haphazard arrangement of filing cabinets, tripods, and bul et traps—the odd assortment of metal al clubs seemed to accumulate. Light from a sliding-glass door spotlighted the gun as it wobbled in his hands, coffee dripping off him.

The damp spoon suddenly made sense. “Shouldn’t drink coffee before shooting,” I whispered.

“Sorry, kid. I wanted a quick kil .” He sounded apologetic.

Now was the time for the heroine to blurt out something bril iant, something touching—something capable of changing a kil er’s mind. My mouth popped open. I gaped at him. “Not used to murdering teenagers?” Not bril iant. Not touching. Hel . My shoulder stung, and I noticed the long red line of a graze.

“Jessie!” Wanda yel ed. No sense of decorum. Ranges were quiet places between shots. Didn’t she realize that?

She thundered down the wooden stairs. “What the—?”

The nose of Kent’s gun swung away from me, finding Wanda. Who was the greater threat: the agent

—his coworker—with the gun case, or the kid with coffee streaming down her arm? “Wanda. Sorry.

Headquarters decided to promote me.”

“So you shoot Jessie?” She continued slowly down the steps, hands high, gun case at her shoulder.

“What sort of organization are we in, Kent? I know we’re far from any major hub and most of our superiors never talk to us face-to-face, but—”

“You’re too close to this situation. You’re not seeing clearly. You had a chance to get the cure—”

“
Jessica
,” I snapped. “The cure has a name.” I touched my shoulder. Nuts. Hole in my shirt. I liked this shirt. At least my jacket was okay.

Kent rambled on, “If the boy’d been able to do his part and get her under control, or if you could’ve kept her from the werewolves—stopped the risk of the rest of them being fixed—”

“They’re sensitive about that phrase,” I interjected. No, he wouldn’t like me after this. But he’d shot me once already. My part in the popularity contest of life was probably nearly over.

His face pinked. “You screwed up, Wanda.”

“So you shoot Jessie?” she repeated. She was beside me now. Making it easier for Kent to swing the gun’s muzzle between us.

“I don’t want to waste my life playing keep-away with werewolves. I’d rather eradicate the threat—the cure—
Jessica
.” He moved the gun, steadying it so I was clearly in his sights.

His finger rested on the trigger. I wondered if it was a two-stage or a one-stage. It only made half a heartbeat’s difference.…

Wanda made a bigger one.

A tooth flew out of Kent’s mouth as the pistol case connected with his head and his shot went wide.

Way wide.

Wanda had her sidearm in hand. “Up the steps, Jessie!”

I grabbed the pistol case and scrambled up the stairs. Behind me, I heard Wanda warn, “Don’t make me—”

Then: pop-pop-pop.

* * *

“You look nervous, young lady.”

I nodded at the bizarre understatement.

“Have you tried sitting down and doing some visualization before the shooting starts?”

“I’m thinking it’s not a good day for me to be down there.”

“Mmm,” Joe said thoughtful y.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure. Cel s don’t get a signal up here, but we’ve been around since the telegraph.” I wondered if he included himself in the “we.” He pointed to the landline.

I dialed Max with shaking fingers. He didn’t ask why I needed a ride. I passed the phone to Joe for directions. And I watched the door. Waiting for Wanda. Or Kent. Either one would probably sneak out any other available exit.

Joe finished, giving Max a quick history lesson about the area (I imagined Max twitching), and handed the phone back.

“Drive careful y,” I said.

Max knew what I meant.

A few competitors came through the door, nodding hel os. Coaches headed for the coffee.

“Bathroom?” I asked.

Joe pointed to the building’s other end.

“Thanks.” I stood before the two doors a moment, perplexed. Pointers. Setters. My eyes flicked from one sign to the other in question. Pointers. Setters. A guy slipped around me and opened the pointers’

door.

Oh.
Blushing, I opened the setters’ door, locked it behind me, and set down the pistol case, working the cramp out of my arm. “Hurry up, Max,” I begged, looking at myself in the mirror. The blood on my shoulder had dried, the sleeve sticking to it. I would’ve thought it strange that no one commented on my wound if I didn’t understand the intensity of a target shooter’s focus. Max could’ve shifted in front of them and they wouldn’t notice.

“God, I hope he doesn’t have to…” I opened the case, pul ed out my gun, loaded the clip, and set it back down. I didn’t want to use it on anything but paper. I eased my jacket on, jumping when someone pounded on the door.

“Jess!”

Fumbling with the knob, I fel into Pietr’s arms. I knew he smel ed blood on me. His eyes glowed, and as one arm tangled around me, he closed the pistol case, easing me toward the door. “Max is checking the area. Let’s get you to the car.”

I nodded.

“Any idea where Wanda is?”

“No,” I whispered. “Dead? Busy burying Kent and putting in for his promotion?”

“Bring us up to speed in the car.”

“This is bad, Pietr. I don’t know what to do. Where to go. Is anywhere safe? The Mafia’s at my horse shows, and assassins are on the range.… I had a frikkin’ gun and I wasn’t safe.”

His hand on the top of my head, he eased me into the backseat of the car and slid in next to me.

I touched his head, remembering his wounds. “They want to just drag you al in—cage you up.…” I slumped against his chest, snuffling and snorting, my tears sopped up by his T-shirt. “Why can’t we have something normal?”

He stiffened. Clicked my seat belt together. “I’m not normal, Jess. You get out of something what you put into it.”

“Oh, don’t start with that crap again, Pietr. If you think you’re the only not-normal one in this relationship, you real y should look around.” I took his arm, winding it around me. “Do you need to check on Max?”

“I’m not leaving you,” he whispered, his lips in my hair.

“Good boy. Because if I’m going to be in trouble, I want you around for it.”

Max came to the car grouchy. “Maybe we’l get lucky and they’re kil ing each other in the woods.”

Wanda alive wasn’t what I’d qualify as helpful most times, but Wanda dead? If she’d real y been trying to stand up for them—for
us
—“Shouldn’t we try…?”

“
Nyet
.” Max backed the car up. “Just relax and let Pietr patch you up,” he ordered.

I leaned against Pietr, letting him slide off my jacket. He looked at me. “I can take off your shirt.…”

I blushed.

“Or I can…” His eyebrows shoved together, deciding for me. He grabbed my sleeve and tore it, tugging the fabric away from my wound.

“Ow.”

“
Eezvehneetyeh
,” he murmured, cleaning and bandaging.

“I have a question,” I said, my breath stirring the hair shadowing his eyes.

“
Da
?”

“I asked Cat about something, and then Mrs. Feldman asked you about the same thing.…”

“
Da
?” he glanced up at me. “What thing?”

“Imprinting.”

Even through the rearview mirror I felt Max’s eyes hot on the two of us as we leaned together like coconspirators.

coconspirators.

Pietr sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“What is it? What does it mean to you to imprint?”

He rubbed his forehead. “It is strange in our—
kind
—the need to—procreate.” He wasn’t looking at me anymore. “It is probably because we live such abbreviated lives. There is a drive…”

“A powerful instinct,” Max added.

“To mate.”

“Oh. Leave it to me to ask
this
sort of question,” I muttered, too embarrassed to blush.

“Imprinting …
Alexi speculates
… is a way we identify a mate capable of strengthening our bloodline, of al owing the wolf traits to dominate. It can happen anytime, but—”

“
Alexi speculates
,” Max rumbled.

“It’s most likely and clearest when we first change. And then it is an undeniable urge. A loyalty like no other. It is…”

“Nature determining the next generation’s destiny,” Max concluded.

“Is that why Alexi was so pissed you insisted on having me present for your first change?”

Pietr shrugged a single shoulder. Noncommittal y.

“He was afraid we’d imprint.” I touched my bandaged arm. “Did you want to…”

“
Imprint
?” Max chuckled.

Again, Pietr raised a single shoulder.

“But we’re not … we didn’t…”

“
Nyet
,” he whispered, leaning back in his seat belt to watch me with heavy-lidded eyes. “We’re not imprinted.”

“Do you wish we were?”

“
Nyet
.” A long sigh. “I don’t think we get many choices in life,” he admitted. “I like knowing—and I like you knowing—I
chose
you.”

Pietr cupped my cheek in his hand and bowed to meet my lips, his eyes closing, lips soft as we stood in the shadows under a staircase in one of Junction High’s dimmer, more distant hal ways. I laced my fingers together across the back of his neck, drawing him down to meet my mouth as I pressed closer to him, pushing him into the darker shadows.

“We’re going to be late,” I whispered by the corner of his jaw. The footsteps on the stairs overhead rang out with less and less frequency.

“I’l take detention again for you,” he volunteered, eyes gleaming. He slid his cheek along mine and nipped at my ear.

“I’m going to get a bad-girl reputation,” I teased.

“As long as you only earn it with me…” And then his mouth was on mine again and I shivered, backpack sliding off my shoulder and hitting the floor with a slap.

He groaned, holding me tighter, crushing me to him, a sound deep in his throat boiling into a possessive growl.

A whimper and we jerked in surprise to see Sarah watching us, knuckles wedged between her teeth, tears streaming down her face as reality hit her.

“Oh, God—
Sarah
!”

With a sob she raced away, feet smacking a rapid retreat up the stairs.

“I have to—”

“Should I?” he asked, ready to accompany me.

“No. I don’t think it’l help.”

He nodded grimly. “See you in class.” He slung my backpack over his shoulder as I flew up the stairs.

I zipped through the hal ways, popping my head into each bathroom stal . Empty. Where would someone go to sob their heart out realizing their ex-boyfriend wasn’t coming back and it was their best friend’s fault?

I’d been so careful, trying to ease her into seeing Pietr and I together—in the open. I’d pushed him away so many times when I’d wanted to pul him close. We’d gone slowly as he built his resistance up and began taming his more canine impulses. There’d been many times I’d scowled at him when he gave me his puppy dog eyes and only recently had I let him drag me into the school’s shadows to kiss me until my lips turned tender.

I froze outside Belden’s classroom. He’d just turned on the overhead, displaying the day’s bel work.

Sitting there, prim, proper, composed, and cool was Sarah. Not curled in a bathroom clutching a toilet and Sitting there, prim, proper, composed, and cool was Sarah. Not curled in a bathroom clutching a toilet and bemoaning the sorry state of her love life. No. Writing down the assignment’s answers. Smiling.

I stood staring just long enough for her to notice me. She turned her head and gave me a friendly grin. A wave. Stunned, I waved back. Then I noticed who sat on her far side. Macie and Jenny both leaned forward to peek at me. Jenny waved. Her smile was far too pleased for my comfort.

Back in my own class, I struggled to focus. This was bad.

* * *

“Don’t wet yourself, Jessica,” she said with a sneer.

Across the hal Pietr pul ed himself to his ful height and raised an eyebrow at me. I shook my head.

“Look.” Macie stepped forward, her body language threatening, her voice dropping. “Sarah’s lost it. I don’t know if it was seeing you two in lip-lock that sent her over the edge or what. She was teetering before, but now—
nuts
. And I’m warning you”—her eyes got big,
scared
—“things are gonna get real bad around here real fast. Jenny and I thought it would be great if she remembered … thought it would be great if she was her old self.… And she’s definitely remembering, and my time—Jenny’s time—ruling the school is going to end if you don’t help us.”

“
Help
you?”