Part 14 (1/2)

”What are these?” he said, pointing at the series of raised scarred lines across my skin.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed my arm away. I'd allowed my defenses down for a moment and I'd been caught. ”Nothing.”

”Don't give me that. I'm not stupid.”

”Then you know what they are,” I muttered, my cheeks flaring hot with shame. My body had stiffened, my arm drawn back into my body, but he reached out and pulled me back into the position we'd been in before, and kissed the top of my head.

”You should never hurt yourself, Icy. Why would you do this?”

His fingertips lightly traced the fading scars on my forearm. For once, I made no attempt to pull away or cover the scars up.

I answered his question with a question. ”Why do you put yourself in danger by riding upside down on a motorbike at G.o.d-knows what speed?”

”It vents my frustrations,” he said, a half-smile playing on his lips.

”Then I guess we do harmful things for exactly the same reason.”

”You vent your frustration at something?”

I wanted to tell him then, tell him exactly what I was and the problems I struggled with. The words danced on my tongue, desperate to burst from my lips. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand to see the horror in his eyes, and to have him push me away and run from the room.

He must know something is different about you, a little voice spoke in my head. You ripped the throat out of a grown man who was three times your size. He knows a normal girl wouldn't be able to do such a thing.

So why hadn't he asked me? Why hadn't he even mentioned what I did?

Chapter.

16.

No dreams came to me that night.

I knew without opening my eyes that Riley was no longer beside me. I didn't blame him for leaving, though that didn't change the pang of longing inside me, or the dip of disappointment in the pit of my stomach. I understood he would want to slip off campus under the cover of darkness.

Just as I instinctively knew Riley was gone, I also sensed Brooke was back in her bed. Did she know where she'd been the previous night? Had she been to a party, or had she been doing something far more odious?

I'd woken more refreshed than I'd done for ages. Was my clear head down to the lack of dreams, or perhaps the blood I'd consumed the previous night, or even Riley? I thought all three things were intimately connected, that one would not have happened without the other, so I guessed it was probably all three.

My emotions were torn. I'd killed a man last night-a horrific and unthinkable thing to do. And yet, here I was, encased within a happy little bubble that was Riley. The scent of him on my bedclothes, in my hair, on my skin. I hugged myself with happiness.

Still, it was madness, surely, to be filled with such crazy joy at the simple thought of a boy-a dark, strange, possibly dangerous boy-when I had become a killer myself.

I needed to get to cla.s.s, though I wondered how I would ever concentrate on lectures with so many thoughts and questions going through my head. Riley had not had the chance to explain his reaction to Brooke's name last night, but I was sure she was connected to whatever was going down in Sage Springs. Plus, Flynn knew something about the pools, which made me think he was also involved. Why had he taken me there in the first place? Had he been trying to tell me something, show me something, perhaps, but then had been scared off by the reaction of the pools? How could a body of water even respond to something a person said or even thought? It was crazy to think such a thing was a possibility, but I'd felt something when I'd been pus.h.i.+ng Jordy's body beneath the gla.s.s-like surface. Something ... else.

It all revolved around the pools. Whatever was building in town was going to culminate there, and I was sure both Brooke and Flynn were involved, together with the carny guys. I just wished I had the inkling of an idea about what it was exactly. I wasn't used to not knowing things.

There was only one person I'd met who, apart from when I'd managed to upset her, I'd gotten no bad vibes from. I wasn't sure she'd even talk to me, but she'd recognized the necklace, and I was certain she knew the symbol, the same symbol I'd seen drawn on Brooke's body. I had questions and I needed answers.

Leaving Brooke huddled beneath the covers of her bed, I grabbed my wash bag and clothes, took a quick shower, and headed to cla.s.s. I kept my head down, but my eyes peeled for anything suspicious. I half expected the police to reappear, slap cuffs around my wrists, and arrest me for the murder of Jordy Whateverhisnamewas.

But everyone acted as if the world had continued as normal while mine had tilted so far on its axis I worried I would fall off.

Laurel wasn't in my first cla.s.s, but I caught sight of her hurrying down the corridor between cla.s.ses, her dark hair falling from the twist she wore as she pushed her gla.s.ses higher up her nose.

”Laurel!” I called.

She hesitated, but didn't stop walking. It was the tiniest motion, but enough for me to know she'd heard me. My heart dropped with sadness. I'd hoped we'd be able to be friends, but she didn't even want to talk to me. I couldn't say I blamed her.

Even though she didn't want to talk to me, that didn't mean I still didn't need to talk to her.

”Laurel!” I called again, louder this time, causing other students to glance my way. I took after her, pus.h.i.+ng past people, ignoring their mocking stares. ”Hey, Laurel. Wait up a minute.”

She glanced over her shoulder and slowed with a resigned sigh. ”I can't talk. I'm busy.”

”Please. Just a few minutes. I'm sorry if things I've done have made you p.i.s.sed at me, but this is really important.”

She shook her head. ”Sorry, I can't. I've been told ...”

Laurel slammed her mouth shut and abruptly turned from me and started to walk again.

I stared after her retreating back. ”Told what?”

No way was I going to give up this easily. I chased after her, grabbed her arm and pulled her back around. ”Told what?” I repeated.

She glared at me. ”Told not to speak to you.”

Something caught my eye. Where her sleeve had ridden up, on her inner wrist was the tattoo of the same symbol-the circle with a star in the middle-that seemed to be haunting me.

”Right,” I said, resolutely. ”You're going to answer some questions, whether you like it or not.”

”What about cla.s.s?”

”Screw cla.s.s. We'll call this a study break.”

I kept my hand on her arm. My strength meant she wouldn't be able to break free. With my head down, I marched her down the hall, out of the building, and toward my car.

Feeling a little brutal, but at my wits' end, I opened the pa.s.senger door and pushed her in. Laurel didn't fight back, which surprised me. Did she feel the need to talk as much as I did? Perhaps this was her way of telling whoever was lording it over her that she'd been forced into a conversation.

I walked around the other side and climbed in behind the wheel before twisting to face her. ”Right. Spill it. Something bad is going to happen in town, and I know it's connected with that symbol you have tattooed on your wrist. And who the h.e.l.l told you not to speak to me?”

Sarcasm filled her response. ”Enough questions, already?”

I had managed to cram in a few. ”Okay, first thing first, who told you not to speak to me?”

She glanced away as though embarra.s.sed she'd allowed someone else to tell her what to do. ”The rest of my circle. They know there's something different about you. They just can't pinpoint exactly what.”