Darkest Powers Bonus Pack 2 (4 page)

One

I swiped aside threads of spider silk as I tramped along the wooded path. I hadn’t come this way in a few days and the spiders worked fast, zigzagging webs between the trees, as if that might stop me. It doesn’t. As long as we’re renting a house on the edge of this forest, I’ll be in here every day, scouting.

We’re on the run and this strip of woods is the perfect place for someone to lie in wait for us. It’s my fault we need to stay so close to the forest in the first place—I can’t control my Changes to wolf form yet, meaning I can’t just ask Dad to give me a lift to the nearest patch of wilderness. If I’m responsible for us living near the forest, then I figure I’m responsible for keeping it safe.

Behind me, Simon slapped his neck. “Damn mosquitos. I swear, they’re as big as hummingbirds out here.”

“Go back inside then.”

“It was an observation, Derek, not a complaint.” The path widened enough for him to walk beside me. “Besides, Lauren’s on a cleaning spree. If I go back, she’ll make me help.”

“Wouldn’t kill you to pitch in.”

“I’m going to tell myself that you’re just cranky because Chloe’s at the mall with Tori, and you weren’t allowed to go. I could point out that if you
did
go, you’d be even crankier, and you’d make everyone miserable. Especially me.”

“
You
wouldn’t have to go.”

“Sure I would. I’d need to run interference when Tori asked how a new shirt looked and you told her the truth.”

“I’m honest. Honest is good.”

“Not when it comes to girls and clothes. You need to gauge their reaction first. If they aren’t happy with it, you suggest they try something else, even if it looked fine. If they love it and it looks like hell, you say it’s not bad and hope they try something else.”

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated?”

“Because it
is
complicated.”

I snorted and let a branch fling back at him. He was right, though—at least about the mall thing. I kept finding myself heading in that direction, as if I could just happen to extend my patrol to the mall. Then Simon and I could meet up with Chloe. For burgers or something. As long as we were there already. Accidentally.

It wasn’t that I resented her spending time with a friend. Even if I didn’t consider Tori a real friend. I just got anxious, knowing Chloe was there without me. Defenseless. Except she wasn’t defenseless. She could look after herself, as she’d proven again and again, and every time I gave her hell for taking a few steps off the property, she gave me hell back. I knew she was right. Hovering over her was a very bad idea. Following her to the mall? Borderline stalking.

So why was I even thinking of going? Because I couldn’t help it. Even if we hadn’t seen anyone from the St. Clouds in months, they could hunt her down at any moment, and if I wasn’t there to save her . . . Well, if I wasn’t there, she’d probably save herself. Even if I
was
there, I wasn’t much protection against their tranq guns. But while my brain could work it out logically, my gut told me I needed to be with her, to watch over her, to take care of her.

“So,” Simon said as we stepped over a stream. “Have you come up with a gift idea for your three-month anniversary?”

“Three months?”

“Sure, it’s coming up on—”

“I know when it is.”

That was a lie. I knew the date when Chloe first kissed me. Hell, I knew the hour. But is that what you use to mark the start of a relationship? Or was it our second kiss, when we knew we were really starting something. Or was it our first actual date, a week later. Which one did
she
consider the right one? That was the important thing. I wanted to ask, but it seemed like I should know.

I bent to check a footprint. The neighbor walking his dog. I straightened. “What I mean is, why is three months important? Why not one month?”

“Because you
missed
the one-month anniversary.”

I scowled at him. “I didn’t
miss
it. You’re the one who mentioned it when it was already too late, and Chloe never said anything.”

“She wouldn’t. It’s up to you to remember and since you missed one month, and one week, too—”

“One week? We’re supposed to celebrate—?”

“You celebrate everything. That’s the rule.”

Rules. I hated them. Well, no. In general, I was good with rules. I understood them and they made life easier. But with dating, there’s no book to study. No pattern to follow. It’s just an endless minefield of places to screw up. At least it is according to Simon. Which may explain why he’s never even gotten to three months with a girl.

“But I’ve gotten close a lot of times,” he said when I pointed this out.

“I don’t think that counts.”

“I could have gotten to three months if I wanted. I didn’t want to. You do. And I’m guessing you want to make it to six months?”

“Course.” I paused. “So that’s the next milestone? We skip four and five?”

“Yes. You can’t celebrate too many anniversaries or you seem clingy. Remember Brandi in ninth grade? She expected me to remember the anniversary of the
minute
I asked her out—every single day. Sulked if I forgot. We didn’t even make it to two weeks.”

A scent wafted past. I paused to catch it. Just a deer. “Okay, so on anniversaries, I need to give her something. An incentive.”

Simon almost walked into a tree. “What?”

“An incentive. Like in third grade, when Mrs. Nestor gave me a cookie every day that I didn’t read during class and promised me a candy bar if I didn’t read all week.”

“You never got that candy bar.”

“Because it wasn’t worth listening to her yammer about stuff I already knew. But this anniversary gift thing is like that, right? An incentive for Chloe to keep going out with me.”

He sighed. “No . . . It’s just a gift.”

“To thank her for going out with me?”

A deeper sigh. I kinda liked the incentive idea. It might be the only thing that got me to six months. Not that anything was going wrong between Chloe and me. It was great actually. Which was the problem. For every action, there must be an equal and opposite reaction. It applies in physics and in life. Any day now, I expected Chloe to tell me it wasn’t working out, that she’d made a mistake, that I was just too cranky, too protective, too overbearing, too . . . not what she wanted in a boyfriend. Not long-term anyway.

“You okay, bro?”

“Yeah.”

I shook it off and stopped walking. I took a good look around. Inhaled deeply. Listened. Reminded myself that this was what I was supposed to be doing—scouting.

As usual, there was nothing. Dad was right—the St. Clouds were lying low and regrouping. Giving us time to get comfortable. Then we’d pop up like prairie dogs for a peek around and they’d swoop down and snatch us up. As long as we stayed in our hole, we’d be fine.

“Anything?” Simon said after a minute.

“Nah.”

“Feel better? Everyone’s safe and sound, so you can rest?”

“Yeah. After I get something to eat.” I looked east. “We’re close to the mall—”

“No.”

“We won’t look for them. We’ll just—”

“No.”

“Straight to the food court. That’s it. I just want—”

“Oh, I know what you want.” He caught my arm and tugged me back toward the house. “The answer is no. There’s food at the house, and she’ll be back soon.”

I cast one last look east. Then I sighed and followed him.

Two

We went back to our rented place—a big old farmhouse a mile from town. I like it well enough. There’s room for all six of us, which is a lot better than when we started out, sharing two motel rooms. Being on the edge of a forest is good. Being in the country is good, too. I’m not a city person—too many scents, too much noise, too many people.

When I was a kid, I used to dream of the day when we’d stop running and get a place like this. I should be happy. Except we hadn’t stopped running. If anything, we were in even more danger than we’d been after Dad left the Edison Group. I’ve told him we should get moving again. He tells me not to worry.

We went in. As the back door slapped shut behind us, Lauren’s voice called from deep inside.

“Boys? Is that you? I could use some help up here.”

Simon motioned to keep quiet and sneak into the TV room. I couldn’t. I’ve spent three months trying to convince Chloe’s aunt that I’m not the big, bad wolf. Which means I need to go out of my way to be nice. Which is becoming a major pain in the ass.

“Just me,” I called back as I waved Simon to the TV room. “What do you need?”

Simon hesitated, but I motioned for him to go. No need for both of us to suffer. I walked to the bottom of the steps. Lauren appeared at the top.

I’m not sure how I feel about Chloe’s aunt. She was part of the Edison Group—the people who experimented on us. So was Dad, but he had the sense to get out years ago.

Lauren stayed. She was responsible for putting Chloe in Lyle House, the group home where we’d met. When Chloe escaped and went to her aunt for help, Lauren handed her back to the group. She eventually helped her escape again, but I don’t think that balances the books. I know Lauren thought she was helping Chloe and then realized she wasn’t. If Dad’s okay with that, I guess I am, too. I just wish it didn’t mean I needed to suck up to her. Chloe says I don’t—and gives me hell when I do—but like most supernaturals, her aunt thinks werewolves are monsters. I need to convince her otherwise or she’ll cause problems with me and Chloe, and I won’t let that happen.

So when she asked me to come upstairs and fold laundry, I did. But I won’t pretend I wasn’t grateful when my cell phone rang, giving me an excuse to stop.

It was Chloe. I moved away from the clothing-piled bed and answered as casually as I could.

“Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Tori has clothing. Thankfully.”

“Yeah, she’d be kind of scary without it.”

Chloe laughed. “You know what I mean. We have accomplished the task of getting her a summer wardrobe that fit her budget, which was like shoving a camel through the eye of a needle. But it is done and I have survived.”

“That’s important.”

“It is. So we’re off to the food court and we were wondering if you guys wanted—”

“We’ll be right there.”

A pause. “I was going to ask if you wanted us to bring you home something.”

“Oh.”

Another laugh. “I’m kidding. Grab Simon and come on over. We’ll be in the food court.”

I yelled to Lauren that I was going to meet Chloe at the mall. As I flew down the hall, she stepped from a room.

“I think Chloe wanted to be alone with Tori for a bit,” she said.

No. They just wanted to shop without “the guys” tagging along. There was a difference.
I bit my tongue and said, “She called and asked Simon and me to meet them in the food court.”

“Are you sure?”

No. I hallucinated it. But that’s not what you’re really asking, is it? You think I’m lying. You think we spend too much time together—despite the fact that we live in the same damn house and would need to actively avoid one another to spend less time together.

I held out my phone and kept my tone and expression neutral. “She just called. You can check or call her back . . .”

“No, of course not.” An abashed smile. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong, Derek. Go on.”

“Thanks. I’ll finish the folding later.”

I was halfway across the yard when I remembered Simon. I paused, looking at the house, and then at the road, as if going back would make me late and Chloe might . . . I don’t know, spontaneously combust. Or Tori might get tired of waiting and drag her to another store.

There was only a second of hesitation, though, before I jogged back to get him. In the beginning, it was kind of awkward, hanging out with Simon and Chloe, knowing he’d liked her and I got her. But he’d been cool with it. Really cool, as if he was just glad that she was happy and I was happy. If it had been the other way around, I’m not sure I could have done that. I’m just really glad I didn’t have to.

The mall is right on the edge of town. Less than a mile walk down our road and we’re there. While I like living in the country, being home-schooled means we can go a little stir-crazy. Having a mall so close is a bonus, even if it does mean Chloe doesn’t have an excuse when Tori wants to drag her out shopping.

As much as Chloe complains, I don’t think she minds that much. She needs girlfriends and Tori, unfortunately, is her only option. Despite what everyone thinks, I’m okay with that. Well, not as okay with
Tori
as her friend—I still haven’t forgiven her for what she did to Chloe at Lyle House. But I get that Chloe needs time with another girl, like I spend time with Simon. I don’t want to dog her every step. I just . . . I just like to be closer when she’s out like that, in a public place, where some goon from the St. Clouds could walk by in the crowd and stick a tranquilizer dart in her arm and all the self-defense skills in the world wouldn’t help her.

We circled the parking lot to the entrance nearest the food court. That meant going all the way around to the back. It would have been shorter cutting through the mall, but Simon didn’t suggest it. The place was packed on Saturdays, and if I could avoid walking through crowds I would.

I pulled open the doors and stepped into the food court.

“Ow,” Simon said behind me.

I glanced back to see him rubbing his shoulder where the door must have hit him.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get in there and find her.”

It was long past lunchtime, but there were people at nearly every table, more milling around with trays. I stayed back just inside the door and scanned the sea of faces.

Beside me, Simon murmured. “One, two, three—”

“There,” I grunted and strode toward Chloe’s table.

“Damn,” he said as he jogged to keep up. “Three seconds. That’s a record.”

I scowled at him.

“What?” he said. “It’s cute.”

My scowl deepened.

“
So
cute,” he said, grinning. “Incredibly, adorably cute.”

I flipped him off and walked faster. Then I stopped so abruptly that he plowed into my back.

From the doorway, I’d only seen Chloe, eating fries at a table. Presumably, Tori sat across from her, but there’d been someone standing in the way, blocking my view. Now I saw that the “someone” wasn’t just standing there. He was talking to them.

“Chill,” Simon murmured as he followed my gaze. “It’s just a kid.”

The “kid” was at least a year older than me. Simon meant he wasn’t likely to be a Cabal assassin. Just a guy. A college-aged guy. Talking to Chloe.

I watched him bend over the table, hands planted on it, his gaze fixed on Chloe, his lips parting in a smile as he said something to her. A slow burn started in my gut, and before I could stop myself, I was barreling down on them, Simon’s protests fading behind me.