The Gathering Dark (14 page)

“Hey!” Susan held up a book of simple concertos. “Look what I found! Do you think these will work?”

Keira squinted at the concerto numbers printed beneath the composer’s name.

“That should work.”

“Okay, kids,” Walker smacked the counter, pushing himself toward the register. “I’m supposed to usher Keira out of here in about ten minutes. If you’re buying something, now’s the time.”

Smith perked up. “Where’re you going?”

Walker’s eyebrows drew together. “The movies.”

Keira noticed that he didn’t say
which
movie.

“Oh.” Smith drew a finger across one of the bins, stirring up dust. “I’ve been wanting to see
Alien Invaders IV
.” Keira realized—for the first time—that his accent was the same as Walker’s.

“I’m
dying
to see that,” Susan piped in. She looked up at Smith. “I love those crazy, blow-stuff-up, use-all-the-special-effects-at-once sort of movies. Keira hates them, though.”

“I’m a huge fan of anything with a high body count and bizarre weapons.” Smith laughed. “Walker’s not usually into it either. Sounds like he and Keira are more the sensitive foreign-film types?” He made a face and Susan echoed it.

“Ew. Subtitles.” She turned to look at Keira and Walker. “So, what are you going to see?”

The answer stuck to Keira’s tongue. “
Alien Invaders IV
.”

Susan let out a half-giggle, half-squeal. “Really?!”

Smith turned to her. “We should go with them.” He glanced at Walker. “You wouldn’t mind if we tagged along, would you?”

“You know I have a strict rule against going on dates with family,” Walker joked. Except from his tone, it clearly wasn’t a joke.

Keira watched the spark in Susan’s eye fade to a dull, cold cinder. Susan’s fingers curled around the book of music like it might suddenly slip away too. Keira couldn’t stand it.

“Oh, come on. Rules are made to be broken, right?” She
turned to look at Walker, hoping Susan and Smith couldn’t see the desperate look she shot him.

Keira never begged, but as long as she was insisting Walker break his rules, she might as well break her own, too.

There was a pause so thick that the moment seemed stuck. Finally, Walker blew out a long breath. “I think the saying you’re looking for is that it’s the
exception
that proves the rule.” He eyed Smith. “Which as you know is quite true, and I wouldn’t keep Susan from the wonder that is
Alien Invaders IV
.”

Smith looked stung, but he smiled to cover it. “So, we’ll all meet at the theater?” He glanced over at Susan. “May I take you to the movie?”

Susan bit her lip. “Um. Yes. Please.” She glanced over. “Keira? Are you riding with me or Walker?”

Keira looked back and forth between her glowing best friend and her glowering guy. She wanted to know what was making his eyebrows pinch together like that.

“I’ll go with Walker,” she said.

•  •  •

It was only eight blocks from Take Note to the Cineplex, which didn’t leave Keira much time to be subtle. They hit the first light just as it turned red, so she’d have an extra thirty seconds, at least.

“You seem kind of . . . pissed about this whole group-date thing,” she said. She glanced in the side mirror. Susan’s car was directly behind them and Keira could see her frantically putting on lip gloss.

“I don’t like it when Smith shows up uninvited like this. He thinks it’s a game, but it’s not. Besides, I like it even less when he wedges his way into my life by asking to come along on our date.”

“So you
don’t
think he’s really interested in seeing Susan?”

Walker rubbed a hand across his face. His usual mask of unflappable wit came away beneath his palm. Worried lines were carved around his mouth, and concern clouded his eyes. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a guess. She’s . . . she’s not like the girls he usually dates.”

“What sort of girls does he date?” Keira asked, desperate to sketch a mental picture of Smith’s typical girl.

“The kind my aunt approves of. The kind who’ve always lived down the street, who hang out at the library for fun.” Walker grimaced. “The kind who’re so anxious to say
yes
that they don’t care who’s asking.”

Keira curled her fingers around the armrest. Ew. “Wait—the library? I thought Smith said he was really into machines.”

Walker blinked at her before he burst into laughter. “They have machines in libraries, Keira. He fixes them. Maintains them.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry—I’m not much of a library goer, I guess.”

“Me either,” Walker admitted. “But Smith is, like, the vaguely badass deity of information services. Susan’s not the sort of half-wilted girl he normally picks. I wish he’d go back home where he belongs, but no—if I’m seeing a girl from
Sherwin, then
he’s
going to find someone to date here.”

Back home . . . that was weird. Hadn’t he moved from somewhere far away? It occurred to her that she didn’t know where he’d come from, exactly.

“I thought you said your family didn’t live close? Aren’t they still in the town where you grew up?”

“They are. It’s a long way from here, but depending on . . . ” He cleared his throat. “Depending how fast you travel, it’s not that hard to get back and forth.”

“What’s it called?” Keira asked.

“Have you ever heard of Higgstown?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Is it . . . somewhere in Nova Scotia?” she guessed.

Walker bobbed his head from side to side in a
maybe
gesture. “Sort of close to there.”

He looked utterly worn out.

Keira glanced outside, trying to figure out exactly how many blocks she had left to decide whether she should let Susan go ahead and rebound with Smith or whether she needed to pry her away from him.

When they pulled up to the stop sign at Kendall Road, Walker ran a fingertip down Keira’s temple and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He took his hand from her face, but the sweet jolt of his touch slid down her neck and twined through her ribs, sending an audible shudder through her breath.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Walker’s voice was soft in the quiet car.

“You didn’t.” Keira met his eyes. The usual spark was still absent, but beneath his worry was an irresistible heat. “I’m not that easy to scare.” She leaned closer to him, so intent on the unusually serious set of his full lips that the night itself seemed to darken around them. She looked up long enough to see Walker’s eyes slide half-shut as his head tilted a bit to one side.

The impatient beep of Susan’s car horn shattered the moment and Keira’s stomach lurched. The streetlights brightened and the hum of the car engine rumbled through her in a sickening flash. Keira reached out a hand and caught hold of the dashboard, steadying herself against the strange vertigo.

“You okay?” Walker frowned.

Keira leaned back against the seat. “Fine,” she said. “Sorry. I just had a weird dizzy flash—maybe I didn’t have enough to eat.”

“Well, let’s get you to the concession stand, then.” Walker pulled into the multiplex parking lot and the neon signs above the theater eased the spinning in Keira’s head.

“That sounds good,” she said.

As they got out of the car and headed for the ticket window, Keira’s vertigo faded. But Walker’s frown, she noticed, hadn’t washed away at all.

Chapter Nineteen

S
USAN RUSHED UP TO
the two of them in the parking lot. “Keira? Can we . . . um . . . ” She glanced up at Walker. “Keira and I need to go to the bathroom.”

Walker raised an eyebrow, but his amused grin came back beneath it, and Keira found herself smiling in response. “Go ahead. I’ll grab the tickets and meet you inside.”

“Oh. Wait.” Keira dug in her pocket for her cash. Susan danced next to her, scanning the arriving cars anxiously.

Walker waved his hand. “I’ve got it.”

“But I want to—”

“You can get the snacks or something. Go, before Susan explodes.” He laughed.

Susan grabbed her arm and hauled Keira toward the doors. “Thanks, Walker!” Susan called over her shoulder.

The second the bathroom door swung shut, Susan spun to face Keira.

“You have to give me a ponytail holder and a breath mint.” She ordered Keira.

Keira stood, frozen, staring at her best friend. “What?”

Susan turned to check her lip gloss in the mirror. “Do I look okay?” she asked. “God, I wish I was wearing something cuter. Oh, I also called my mom and told her we were going to the movies together. Just so you know. Don’t mention Smith if she asks, okay?”

Keira blinked, pulled her spare elastic off her wrist and handed it to Susan.

“You seem really into Smith,” she ventured. “That must have been some conversation you guys had at Take Note.”

Susan shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, he seems nice enough.” She smiled a wicked little smile. “But mostly, he’s
hot
and a little bit mysterious. And he’s eighteen.
And
he said he’s already finished with school.” Her eyes narrowed as she smoothed her hair into the world’s fastest French braid. “And if anyone sees me here with him, there is zero chance I will still be ‘that girl that Tommy dumped’ at school tomorrow.” She held up her
hand, looking at Keira in the mirror. “Hot. Mysterious. Older. From away. Likes action movies.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Win. Win. Win. Win. Win.”

Keira was way past shocked. Her tongue seemed stunned, so thorough was its refusal to form words.

Susan bounced over, bumping Keira’s shoulder. “Come on. We have
dates
waiting for us.”

The smell of stale popcorn and faux-butter soaked into her clothes as soon as Keira stepped out into the multiplex. Susan made a beeline for Smith, who stood against one of the poster-lined walls, arms crossed, waiting.

Walker wasn’t with him. Keira’s eyes swept the crowded lobby. She spotted him, bent over the concession counter in his familiar wool peacoat.

He passed some money across the counter and turned toward her. He didn’t scan the crowd the way she had. His eyes didn’t catch on the woman wearing an out-of-season halter top or the screaming toddler.

Walker looked straight at her.

He smiled, and it was like dawn had broken all over again. The colors in the room were suddenly brighter, the air warmer. His happiness washed over Keira and her own mood lifted in response. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of him. He had a packet of red licorice in his hand. Favorite candy wasn’t a topic she remembered talking about with him. Had she forgotten?

“How did you know?” she asked, pointing at the candy.

He gave her a quizzical look. “Know what?”

“My movie snack. The red licorice.”

Walker’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you kidding? Red licorice is
my
movie snack.”

Narrowing her eyes, Keira cocked her head at him. “You mean I have to
share
? Besides, I thought you said I could buy the snacks.”

Walker handed her the bag of licorice. “I said you could get the snacks ‘or something.’ ”

Keira rolled her eyes. “That’s totally not playing fair.”

He leaned in close. “Playing fair’s no fun at all,” he murmured.

The overhead lights were suddenly too bright and Keira blinked against the unexpected glare, not quite believing what she was seeing.

There was a tiny starburst of darkness pulsing at the top of Walker’s cheek.

She blinked hard, willing it away.

“Are you dizzy again? You look pale all of a sudden.” Walker reached out and caught her chin in his fingers. His thumb traced the tender spot beneath the curve of her lower lip. When his fingertips grazed her skin, the black mark on his cheek exploded like dark fireworks, shattering into a thousand tiny dots that sank back into his skin and disappeared.

Keira barely noticed, mostly because their sudden contact brought a row of strange, rounded huts into view. The small
buildings shimmered darkly against the bright normalcy of the multiplex. A headache flared behind her eyes, throbbing against her forehead. Walker dropped his hand and stepped closer. The huts disappeared and the pain in her head let up, until it was nothing more than a twinge.

“I’m not dizzy. I just—I had a weird headache for a second there, but it’s gone. Susan thinks I’m getting migraines.” They headed for the theater, easily falling into step with each other.

“Why?”

Keira leaned her head toward her shoulder, stretching out the tension in her neck. “Mostly because my eyes have been funny. Susan sees halos and sparkly lights sometimes before she gets migraines. Actually”—the pieces clicked—“I think she gets dizzy, too.”

Walker looked at her sharply. “And you see the same sorts of things Susan does?”

His dark eyes searched hers, like he could read the truth there, whether she lied to him or not.

“Not exactly. All the stuff she sees seems to be about too much light. Mine’s the opposite. It’s dark.”

Something in his expression made her keep going. “And it always seems to happen when I’m with you.”

Walker’s jaw clenched. Keira immediately regretted saying it, even though it was true. “Maybe I’m allergic to the smell your shampoo or something,” she offered.

Walker opened his mouth, but before he could say anything,
Susan came bounding over with Smith sauntering a step behind.

“Guys, come on! The last showing’s getting ready to let out. We’ll miss all the good seats.” She grabbed Keira’s arm and carted her toward the ticket taker.

She looked back for Walker—he still had their tickets.

He hadn’t moved. Walker’s hands were clenched into fists, his shoulders half turned toward the front doors. It looked like he was leaving. Keira pulled her arm out of Susan’s grip.

Except he didn’t leave. He stared straight at Keira and his teeth grazed his lower lip like a little boy gazing at a long wished-for present. Everything about him said he was in the middle of an impossible choice.

It was only a movie date, but Keira had the unshakable sense that the moment was suddenly much, much bigger than that. She just didn’t know why.