Page 18

S o far, the other side of normal seemed pretty…

normal.

I still had miles of pavement to go, but I expected something a little more…

climactic. A dramatic unveiling of a wizard guide, maybe?

Angel wings sprouting out of my back?

Or what I was really hoping for: a visit from a certain three telepathic Voices?

Since honesty was now the name of the game, I’d be lying if I said a little part of me hadn’t deflated when that didn’t happen.

My senses piqued at a rustle alongside the desolate highway, and the skin on my arms rose.

Maybe the skeletal limbs swaying off the overhanging trees were about to reveal—nope.

The ocean breeze tousled my hair, scattering the roadside debris, but nothing more.

I sighed.

No wizard guide.

No Voices.

At least the darkness didn’t bother me like it used to.

Its affiliation with the unknown used to be unnerving, but tonight we walked hand in hand.

Tonight, I belonged amongst the shadows of the supernatural.

Tonight, I was more than just a midnight rogue.

I trekked next to the painted white line that ran through the maritime forest parallel to the beach, unflinching as a car flew past—the first I’d seen in at least ten minutes—nearly drenching me as it zoomed through a puddle.

Droplets splashed my legs, reminding me of this morning’s rainstorm, which already felt so far away.

As the chirps from the crickets started to settle around me, the hum of tires broke the silence again.

This time the headlights came at me, burning away the blackness, casting my path in a blinding yellowish light.

Shielding my eyes, I ducked my chin as the vehicle came towards me, then hauled past. A futile attempt at turning invisible, but I wasn’t about to hurl myself into a bush of what looked like poison oak—wouldn’t that be the cherry on top of such a lovely day.

The weight of the wind shifted with the squealing of tires as the car cut across the double line.

Its engine jumped in frenetic spurts, like my heart, as it 180’d beside me.

Between the diesel and burnt rubber, something familiar hung on the edge of the night.

The passenger door swung open.

“Get in.”

I faltered, only briefly, to recognize Ryder’s starlit jawline.

My face tightened, shattering whatever sense of calm I had.

A blast of cool mint diffused from the interior, the heady scent trapping any good comebacks.

I needed to keep walking, or I might do something stupid, like get in the car.

Letting the bullfrogs speak for me, I picked up my feet and my jaw, which had been hanging open.

His truck followed.

“You’re freezing cold. I can see your breath.”

Nope, that melodic British accent would not lure me in.

I held my head high.

“I thought we were done with this.”

“What?” he retorted.

“Keeping you out of danger? That might be easier if you didn’t put yourself in situations where you’re alone in the pitch black, on the side of the road.”

“Well done, Ryder.” I rolled my eyes, not stopping for his reaction.

“You’ve managed to conveniently find yourself in the right place at the right time again. How do you do it?”

“It’d be a lot easier if you gave me your number.” Ugh.

I sensed a smirk.

“That’s not happening.” Do not look.

Do not look. “And don’t change the subject.”

This time the ribbiting orchestra answered on his behalf.

“Oh, that’s right.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“You never give away your dirty little secrets, but you expect to know all of mine.”

My traitorous eyes drifted left, just shy of the door that still hung open.

The truck crawled beside me in a smooth straight line, despite the fact that I knew his gaze hadn’t left me.

My heart pounded against my rib cage and not because I was worried that he might crash.

He’d driven in far more dangerous predicaments.

“I’m not going anywhere. It’s not safe out here. I’ll drive next to you all the way back to town if I have to.”

“Thanks for the warning.” My thumb and pointer cupped my chin as I tilted my head.

“You don’t happen to mean giant-gathering-of-bloodthirsty-werewolves kind of not safe, do you?”

I needed to see his face when I delivered that tidbit, and immediately wished I hadn’t turned to look.

The golden specks in his eyes glistened in the moon’s alabaster glare.

Teasing, pleading—I whipped my head forward before that alone convinced me to get in.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” I crossed my arms against a sudden chill that tickled my spine.

“Or should I say, wolf?”

“No, I-I’m impressed.”

I searched for a hint of sarcasm, scowling when I didn’t find it.

I kicked a pebble. “I’m not as helpless as you think.” As either of us thought, really.

“Please get in the car and we can talk about this.”

I stopped walking then, to meet his gaze, and his truck slowed to a stop.

“Talk. Like…actually have a conversation? The kind where I get to ask a question, and then you say something back, and you don’t just leave me hanging?”

To say the silence was unexpected would have been na?ve of me.

Yet when he cleared his throat, it had me waiting on bated breath.

Several moments passed and nothing came of it, except a familiar wave of disappointment.

I should’ve known better than to believe it’d be any different.

So, call me na?ve.

And call me ready to go home.

I’d walk the entire continent before accepting a ride with him.

Maybe he knew that, and that’s why he finally answered when my toes pointed north.

“I know what it’s like to navigate this world alone. I don’t want you to.”

My feet halted as I turned to face him.

“Which world, Ryder?” I knew the answer.

I just needed to hear him say it.

He shifted the truck into park.

“The one you’re looking for.” Not the most monumental admission but it still counted for something—or maybe that was the excuse I used to let myself step towards the car.

Nothing but the thrum of his engine, my racing pulse, and his words hung on the night.

“The one I’ve found,” I corrected.

The car stereo illuminated the twitch of his lips and the dimple indented across his right cheek.

“I didn’t think you’d accepted it so quickly.”

My cheeks flushed, tingly and warm.

Why did his stupid smirk make it so much easier to forgive him?

“Well, when you’ve been chased by demons and partied with half-naked were-people, you don’t have much choice.”

His eyes widened, just a bit, while another sort of tension seemed to form between us.

“See, we have much more in common than you think.”

“Fine.” I waved my cell.

“Got a charger?”

He held up the USB cord and patted the empty seat.

I assessed the way his palms scraped the material, hands worn from nocking arrows and demon-slaying.

I sighed. This might very well be the death of me, but it sure beat the company of the mosquitos.

And I needed a charge.

Reluctantly, I scooted in and plugged in my phone.

The warmth of the cab flooded my skin, thawing my bones.

I could have melted into the springy cushion.

Ryder responded with a smile that actually felt genuine and not sarcastic for a change, one that creased his eyes and revealed every single one of his teeth, including a cute little crooked one near his bottom canine.

It made me melt even more.

Sleep became my next opponent.

I battled against the motor’s steady rock, and the hot air defrosting my fingertips, and a comfy warmth pooling in my belly.

But to yield to the exhaustion meant forfeiting what might be my only chance to hear his side of, well, everything.

Was he at the party?

Did he see my powers?

How much did he know?

If I didn’t push for answers, I’d never get them.

And after all, he promised a conversation.

I’d start out small, ease him into it.

Then I blurted, not chill at all, “Tell me this isn’t a coincidence. Are you following me?”

His grin vanished.

“I’m a hunter. I have a knack for these things.”

“Things?” The disbelief in my voice begged him to go on.

He sighed. “Tracking, pursuing, targeting…”

“And humans are on your list? You do realize how creepy that is.” The headlights from a passing car illuminated his profile, washing along the crinkle in his brow.

I stared at him, waiting for my answer, not caring if it made him uncomfortable.

He tweaked his shoulders.

“You’re not human—well, not fully.”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes.

He knew he was evading the question.

I’d jump out of this car so fast…

My look must have said it all.

“Okay, so I may have stuck around after I dropped you off.”

I shot him an and?

look.

“And I saw you leave with that mongr—coworker of yours.”

And?

“And I know what that crowd gets up to on a night like this.” He must have said that last part under his breath because he knew what kind of reaction it’d spark.

“Wait. You knew I was going to a remote beach with a bunch of literal party animals, and you didn’t think to do anything about it before I got there?” The audacity of it blew my mind.

“So now you want me to rescue you?” The laugh in his voice made me shift in my seat.

This was funny to him now?

“This is ridiculous.” Frustration startled me out of my fatigue.

Death traps warranted a heads up.

Tripping in alleys did not.

Ryder was so obsessed with his own self-importance he failed to see the difference.

I couldn’t believe this.

As I opened my mouth to, I didn’t even know, maybe scream, he said, “The Santa Cruz pack is on a No Hunt Order. They have been for over thirty years, ever since the turf war with the vampires in the eighties. A tourist will go missing every now and then, but they don’t usually mess with the locals.”

They don’t usually ?

My fingers dug into the leather seat.

I couldn’t decide what freaked me out more, another blood-lusting species—vampires, really !

?—or Ryder’s nonchalance about it.

“Yeah, well one of their pack members broke that streak tonight and attacked me.” The same opportunistic prick who’d cornered me at Grad Night.

And did even worse before that.

“And by some crazy twist of fate I made it out alive.” I kept the whole controlling-the-ocean thing on the DL.

At this point, it was a tidbit he didn’t deserve to get.

And I still didn’t even understand exactly what had happened myself.

“No thanks to you.”

He went silent before he asked, “Are you…okay?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking. But—” Despite being unsettled enough to check the area in case I needed help after he literally threw me to the wolves, he what, ignored the screams?

Blew off the dozens of people fleeing the scene?

In his words, he was a hunter; he should’ve been able to sense the chaos, even from the road.

I shook my head, my thoughts and emotions tangling my words.

“Your timing is just weird,” I finally muttered.

“Funny, I thought it was just right.” His tone was flat.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you that vanity isn’t a virtue?” I snapped.

“My parents died when I was four, so my priority was learning how to survive.” His throat bobbed, like the words stuck there.

“Virtues don’t make the top of the list in survival skills.”

Well, now I was the asshole.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

“But instincts do.” His green eyes flared as they met mine.

He spoke as if he hadn’t heard me.

“And my gut keeps leading me back to you.”

My spine straightened at his admission.

The wall he’d built around his emotions had held up so well I’d doubted it’d ever break.

For days I had chiseled at his stony exterior and hadn’t even made a dent.

In this moment outside the city limits, heated from our perpetual bickering and raw from unexpected truths, I’d finally gotten through.

What now? I reached for his hand atop the stick shift in the cheesiest, most cliché move possible, and yet it couldn’t have felt more perfect.

In an instant, the unsolvable riddle of Ryder became so easy to read.

His dark humor, his arrogance, his self-importance: it all had that touch of grief.

We shared an identity most were lucky enough not to.

Left. Lonely. Incomplete.

With my other hand I clutched the lapis between my collarbones, longing for its familiar comfort.

“I lost my mom.” I was surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth.

“It…was a tragic accident that happened when I was eight. We were at the beach and”—I held my eyes shut for a moment as a rush of words tangled my tongue—“I got pulled out to sea. She drowned trying to save me.”

“Death isn’t something most people are comfortable with, but it’s all Leif and I know.” Ryder’s thumb stroked my pinky, and I went rigid at the slow movement.

“You start talking to me about the meaning of life? That’s when I make a run for it.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“And-I’m-sorry-too.” He rushed through each syllable like it might curse him, the apology clearly not a common phrase in his vocabulary.

“About your mom. And…that I left you.”

I accepted with a subdued “thanks,” not wanting to overplay my gratitude and have him retreat again.

Because this, having someone to talk and relate to for no other reason than it just seemed natural, felt good.

And the more we talked, the more I wanted to know about him.

After a moment I asked, “Are you and your brother close?”

“He raised me after our parents passed.” Ryder gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“We don’t play pranks on each other or have video game nights or even regularly eat dinner together. But he taught me how to hunt and how to shoot an arrow, how to thrive in the forest.”

Life skills that, sure, maybe someone learns in Cub Scouts, but survival skills starting at four years old?

What about blueberry pancake breakfasts and building forts and learning how to surf?

Even if Ryder had wanted to experience that, he’d never had the chance to.

It was kind of sad.

“I owe Leif everything. He’s more than a brother; he’s the closest to a father I’ve ever had.” Despite the praise, Ryder’s voice rang cold, no hint of the warmth that I’d expect to hear from someone sharing stories about a loved one.

I found myself staring down at my pendant, my fingers worrying the stone.

“His opinion must be really important to you then.” Without my consent, a memory popped into my head: Just some girl, he’d reassured Leif.

“It’s more than that.” His gaze remained fixed on the road.

“Without him I’d be dead.”

A deafening quiet settled between us, the air heavy and charged.

I didn’t press further, partly because the echo of what he’d said to his brother started to sink in again.

If I was just some girl, then why hadn’t his thumb stopped tracing the side of my hand?

Why did it arc wider, with a hint of pressure?

And why did my pinky flutter in response?

Why did it rub back with a mind of its own?

Soon the middle of nowhere led into outskirts and outskirts became boulevards.

The night sky, once dotted with stars, now washed out by the city’s glow.

We slowed to stop at a red light, the streetlamps illuminating our path like an airstrip.

“Well, here we are, just two lost souls.” Ryder toggled the gear shift, the jerky movement causing my hand to slip from his.

“What do you want to do?”

I glanced at him suddenly, taken aback by the question and the low drawl to his voice.

What did I want to do?

Crawl into bed and hide under the covers.

Return every fantasy book I owned.

Cry-laugh about my night to Javi.

Uncover my powers. Follow a werewolf.

What did I want to do?

The dashboard’s clock read ten thirty on what felt like the longest day of my life.

There was an obvious choice: go home and make curfew.

Aside from needing to change out of my damp shoes and still having bits of sand and salt on my legs, staying out meant surrendering more than my freedom: it meant surrendering my old identity.

So why , when I opened my mouth, was take me home not what came out?

“Screw it.” I thrummed my palms on my thighs.

“What did you have in mind?"