I looked at her from my tangle of light pink bedsheets. “Bad dream. Really bad dream.”
“A bad dream? That’s all it was? I thought you were being murdered in here.”
I flinched at her choice of words, wanting to tell her everything but knowing she wouldn’t believe a word I said. Why would she? I barely believed it myself. “Sorry I woke you.”
She leaned her forehead against the edge of the door. “Better now?”
“I’ll survive.”
“Warm milk helps me sometimes. Do you want some?”
“No, thanks.” Just the thought of it turned my stomach. My new hunger didn’t seem to extend toward heated dairy products.
Whenever I’d had a nightmare as a kid, she’d come into my room and read me a story until I got sleepy again. I remembered one in particular about a bunny who got lost in the forest and had to rely on the kindness of strangers—even those who might normally eat him for dinner—to help lead him home. Luckily it had a happy ending. Not all wolves had an appetite for cute bunnies.
For a moment, I had the urge to ask her to read me that story, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t a little kid anymore.
“You scared me,” she said groggily, rubbing her eyes. “But I’m glad nothing’s wrong. Try to get some sleep. Brand-new week starting. Hopefully it’ll be a good one.”
As she left, she kept my door open a crack. It wasn’t as big of a comforting gesture as reading me a bedtime story about rabbits and wolves becoming friends with each other, but it was better than nothing.
I had an old teddy bear named Fritz that had been relegated to the rocking chair in the corner of my room next to my packed bookcase. He was missing an eye, and his left arm was partially detached. I grabbed him and pulled him into bed with me, clutching him to my chest. But whatever comfort he’d given me when I was younger, he failed to deliver tonight.
An hour later, I gave up on sleep. I grabbed my laptop from the floor next to my bed and went to the website for the Trinity Chronicle, searching for the latest news to see if anyone had reported any stabbings or murders. There was nothing. Between this and the dismissive “it was just your imagination” reaction I’d gotten from the cop, it was like it never happened.
But it had.
I read up on recent disappearances, but none seemed related to what had happened tonight. Trinity was a big city with a million residents. Bad things happened year-round to people young and old, male and female, beautiful and ugly. It didn’t seem to matter who or when or why.
I propped my pillows behind me and gathered my thick duvet closer so I wouldn’t feel so cold. Then I did a Google search for gray, but that didn’t give me anything useful. I mean, it was just a color, that was all. But that was what the blond kid had called me. That was what had made Bishop freak out and look at me like I was a monster, when really it was the other way around. He was the monster.
For a moment, I’d thought he was so much more.
I closed the computer, swearing to put him and everything I’d seen and experienced completely out of my mind.
Yeah, right. Like that was even possible.
* * *
Monday morning loomed painfully bright and early. I wanted to stay home and hide, but I knew I couldn’t. Instead, I forced myself to get up and get ready for school. My mother had already left for work by the time I came downstairs. I had a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast—and more toast—none of which made a single dent in my hunger.
When I went to the bathroom to get ready, the full-length mirror on the back of the door showed that I looked exactly the same as I ever had—short, skinny, with long, wild dark hair that I pulled back into a ponytail to keep off my face. A smear of peach-colored lip gloss and a swipe of black mascara was the sum total of my beauty regimen for a regular school day. Same as always.
But something had changed. People at McCarthy High were looking at me differently.
I tried to ignore the curious looks and outright stares I got as I made my way into the school. Maybe they were staring at me because I looked like someone who’d hung out with a gorgeous but crazy blue-eyed murderer last night. A murderer who’d disappeared into thin air along with his victim, making me question my sanity and my own damn eyes.
Or, more likely, the news of what happened with Stephen and me at Crave on Friday night had gone viral. Likely Jordan was spreading the rumor that I was a slut, blowing everything out of proportion to make my life even more difficult than it already was.
“Excuse me, Ms. Day,” Mr. Saunders, my English teacher, said near the end of first period. His thick glasses made him look like a disapproving owl peering down at me from a tree branch. “Are you paying attention to me this morning?”
I straightened in my seat, flattening my palms against the cool surface of my desk, and tried to pull myself out of my thoughts. “Of course I am.”
“Then what did I just say?”
I felt everyone watching me, waiting to see if I’d make a fool out of myself.
“You said—” I gulped and scanned the blackboard for a clue “—something about Macbeth?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“A statement. Definitely a statement.”
“Since that’s the play we’re discussing this week, I think it’s a given that I’m talking about it. But what precisely did I just say?”
The walls felt as if they were closing in on me and I suddenly had trouble breathing. I had a very strong urge to get out of there and I didn’t have time to explain why. I’d face the consequences later.
I grabbed my leather bag and books before getting up from my seat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Saunders. I—I’m not feeling so good.”
“Ms. Day?” He watched with surprise as I left my desk and escaped from the room without another word.
The harder I tried to think about something else, the more the memories of last night clutched me like a giant, monstrous hand. I needed some fresh air. First, I hurried to my locker to drop off my books.
“Hey, what happened in there?” Colin had followed me from class. He held his dog-eared copy of Macbeth and his binder casually at his side. “You okay?”
I shoved my books into my locker and closed it, twirling the dial on the lock. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Glad to hear it.”
I crossed my arms to try to warm up. Colin wore short sleeves, which made me think that I was the only one with a temperature problem today. “You left class just to check on me?”
“Well, yeah. Of course I did. I told Saunders I wanted to make sure you’re okay. He seemed concerned, so he didn’t have a problem with it. You’re lucky he likes you.”
No one else had come after me. I didn’t have too many other friends in that class. I didn’t have too many other friends period. “You’re so sweet.”
I could have sworn his cheeks flushed a little. But it was true. He was sweet. Except for his inability to deal with parties without drinking and then making ridiculously bad choices involving stupid, vain cheerleaders, he was basically the perfect guy.
“Listen, Samantha—” He raised his gaze from the scuffed floor to look at me. “I know Carly and I didn’t end on good terms. Seeing her trying to avoid me last night wasn’t fun.”
I tensed at the mention of their breakup. “That’s an understatement.”
He rubbed his hand over his forehead and looked down at his feet again. “And I know you’re her friend—”
“Best friend.”
“Right. Best friend. But you’re still talking to me. You haven’t given me the cold shoulder like her other friends have.”
Good point. I hadn’t. I couldn’t help it, I liked Colin. Him coming after me just now to make sure I wasn’t going to spontaneously combust proved that feeling was mutual.
“I know Carly doesn’t approve,” I said with a shrug, “but I make my own decisions when it comes to people I choose to talk to.”
“Good. So, yeah, I’m not sure if this migh
t cause some friction between you two, but I just have to ask…”
“What?”
He raised his gaze to mine. “Do you want to go out some time?”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “Go out?”
“You and me, maybe the movies on the weekend. Or we could go to Crave.”
Oh, boy.
I suddenly had the very clear image of me telling Carly about this and her not speaking to me for a few decades, even though it totally wasn’t my fault. Or maybe it was. I was still talking to Colin after everyone else associated with Carly had collectively decided to give him the death glare whenever he was nearby.
He’d drawn closer to me until there was barely a foot separating us. Too close. Anyone who saw us might get the wrong idea.
I twisted a piece of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail tightly around my index finger and inhaled deeply. “Oh, Colin. I, uh, really like you. Seriously, but—”
I stopped talking.
His scent—I didn’t believe it was just soap, like he’d said last night at the movie theater. He smelled…edible. He was too close to me right now. I could barely think straight.
“But what?”
I shivered, now focused entirely on his mouth. “Oh, my God. I’m so hungry right now.”
He grinned. “How is it possible that you can make that sentence sound so sexy?”
“Sexy?”
“Yeah.” He leaned closer to me.
No, he wasn’t leaning closer. I was pulling him closer, sliding my hands over his shoulders and around his nape to tangle into his hair.
Just as his lips were an inch from mine, I came to my senses. I braced my hands against his chest and pushed him away from me.
He looked at me with confusion. “Uh, what was that?”
“I don’t know. Sorry…I need to go.” I swallowed hard and walked away from him. Quickly. I didn’t stop until I passed through the doors of the school and felt the cool morning air on my face. I gulped it in and tried to push against the hunger that had almost made me kiss Colin. The need was nearly impossible to resist.
But I’d resisted.
Something caught my eye. A blond guy stood at the bottom of the stairs by the path that led to the parking lot. He was watching me.
I gasped. It was the kid from the alley last night.
The one Bishop had killed.
He casually turned and started to walk away. Without thinking twice, I ran after him.
“Wait!” I tripped over my own ankle and almost fell before staggering to a stop on the narrow path that wound through school grounds. The blond guy had sat down on a bench and was watching my approach. His dirty and bloody clothes from last night were gone, replaced by clean blue jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt.
“Hi there,” he greeted me casually. “Samantha, right?”
“You—” It was difficult to form coherent words. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
“Depends who you mean by you.”
“You’re alive.”
“Am I?” He looked down at himself, holding his arms out in front of him for inspection, then his gaze swept the length of me. “Hey, so are you. What a coincidence.”
A cloud of confusion swirled around me, making me dizzy. “But I—I saw you get stabbed in the chest last night.”
He got to his feet and closed the distance between us in only a couple of steps. I staggered back from him and looked around, realizing that we were all alone.
He cocked his head. “Did you really see me get stabbed?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Are you completely sure about that?”
I glared at him. He was mocking me and I had no idea why. “Completely.”
He rubbed his chest. “Funny, because I feel just fine.”
“I’m not crazy.”
He walked a slow circle around me and it felt like he was studying every inch of me. Like, every inch.
“Name’s Kraven.” His lips curled into a smile that didn’t look friendly. “I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but that would be a lie. I mean, things like you are the reason for this little mess, aren’t they?”
My stomach churned and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying not to shiver. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I continued to deny it, even to myself. There wasn’t anything else I could do. The moment I accepted that something was seriously wrong here—and with me in particular—was the moment I believed this insanity was real. And I wasn’t quite ready for the asylum.
“Sure you don’t. You’re just a normal girl, right? And that relentless hunger you’ve suddenly developed—what do you think that is? Just a regular case of the munchies?”
I shook my head, trying to block out how much he seemed to know about me. “Bishop stabbed you. I saw it with my own eyes. So why aren’t you dead?”
Kraven’s mischievous grin widened and his amber-colored eyes began to glow bright red. “Because it takes more than that to kill a demon.”
Chapter 5
I couldn’t move. Fear crawled through my gut like a fistful of cockroaches. “A demon?”
“Impressed?”
I wanted this to be a movie on TV so I could press the off button and make it all go away. The cold feeling grew deeper, sinking so far inside me I didn’t think I’d ever feel warm again. I was sure all the color had drained from my already pale face.
Other than his eyes, there was nothing that made him seem anything other than human. He had a small freckle at the left corner of his mouth. His hair was the kind of blond color people got if they were normally light brown but spent the entire summer working outside in the sun. He looked so normal. Like a boy I might see at the mall, or the movies, or…eating garbage in an alleyway.
Unlike Bishop, there was no madness in his expression. Kraven was totally sane.
Which meant that I had to be the crazy one.
“Wh-what do you want from me?” I stammered.
“I want to do my job. The sooner the better.”
“What’s your job?”
“Why would I tell you my secrets?” Kraven brushed the front of his shirt, straightening out a wrinkle in the fabric, before his gaze, which had changed back to its normal amber color, returned to my face.
A cold line of perspiration slid down my spine and I took a deep breath before speaking. “I swear, I’m not what you think I am.”
“A hungry little gray with an appetite for human souls?” Kraven touched my hair and I swatted his hand away. Then he grabbed my wrists and pulled me closer to him.
Sabrina, a girl from my afternoon geography class, passed us and I craned my neck to track her. She was notorious for cheating off whomever was seated next to her, including me several times, and she had the As to prove it.
I’d never been so happy to see anyone before in my entire life.
“Sabrina, help me!” I shouted. “Please!”
She didn’t even glance in my direction.
“Why can’t she see me?” I struggled to pull away from him, but Kraven held me firmly in place.
He watched the girl disappear down the path. “Because I don’t want her to. I cloaked us so we could have a little chat all privatelike.” He looked at my mouth for a moment as if mesmerized by it. “Let’s get down to business, sweetness. How many have you kissed since you’ve been turned?”
“None!”
He raised an eyebrow and brought his mouth closer to mine. I could feel his hot breath on me as he spoke. “But you want to, don’t you? It’s a hunger you can’t resist, a raw desire, an…aching need. Tell me the truth. You want to, don’t you?”
“No.” I clenched my jaw, glaring at him for making it sound so dirty, but inside I felt sick and weakened. I’d ached to kiss Colin just now, and it had taken everything I had to pull myself away from him. I’d tried to ignore my cravings, feed them with food each time they’d appeared, but nothing had helped.
Kraven knew that. He shouldn’t have k
nown anything about me, but he knew what I was feeling inside right now. And he saw the answer on my face even though I hadn’t said it out loud.
His smile faded. “Even if I believed you, it’s only a matter of time before you can’t control it any longer.”
He grabbed me by the throat so tight that I couldn’t breathe. I scratched and beat at his arms as hard as I could, but it didn’t do any good. He raised me off the ground so I was on my tiptoes.