He sank down on the dank floor beside me and let me cry into his chest. I barely knew him, but I felt so comfortable in his presence. Later, once I’d calmed a little, he told me the story of how his parents had abandoned him in a mall during the Christmas holidays when he was only five years old. He said the pain got better after a while, that time dulled the memories and repaired the scars. He said he understood how I felt and that it was okay to feel the way I did. Afterward we’d watched all the Alien movies in a row until sunrise.
“That was the first time I realized how much I wanted to keep you safe,” he said. “It was the first time I met someone who understood me. Nobody understands me like you do.”
I stopped breathing and forced myself to swallow my last piece of popcorn. It was a miracle it didn’t get stuck in my dry throat. His eyes flickered toward me and I saw that for the first time in a long while, they were vulnerable and unguarded.
He reached over, his thumb brushing across my cheek where a damp strand of hair had stuck to my skin. Heat bloomed under his fingertips, spreading all over me and pooling in my belly. His fingertips halted, unsure. I licked my lips and his eyes followed the movement, a muscle in his jaw moving in response. I could see the struggle on his face, feel the hesitation in his touch. Would he pull back? The air felt stifling, but I was barely breathing anyway. His hair was as black as the night around us.
His hand still rested on my cheek but slowly it began to move downward, trailing over my throat until finally it rested on my collarbone. He drew small circles on my skin.
Something changed on his face, like he’d lost the fight, and he leaned in as the popcorn bucket tumbled over, spilling its contents all over the floor of the car. Neither of us made any motion to pick it up. And suddenly there was no space left between us. His eyes darted to my lips and then, just like that, he closed the gap. His lips were on mine, soft and probing at first, and once I got past my shyness, demanding and hard. I ran my hands through his hair and down his back, feeling his muscles ripple under my fingertips. He felt so good; kissing him felt so right.
His fingers drifted over my ear, my neck, my rib cage. His touch left fire in its wake. A strange whine escaped from deep in my throat as his palms moved under my shirt and grazed my stomach. His skin felt lava-hot yet raised goose bumps wherever it touched.
Alec was kissing me. The real me—not an impostor, not Madison, not some fake version of Kate.
“Tess.” He whispered the word against my ear and throat. His kisses lost their frenzy. My heartbeat slowed. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. I listened to our ragged breathing and placed my hand over his hand, which rested over my rib cage. His hand was so huge it nearly spanned the entire width of my chest. I bet he could feel my heart pounding against his palm.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured against my throat.
Happiness erupted like fireworks inside my body. There it was, the one thing I’d wanted to hear from him for so long. A small voice in my head wanted to ask him, “Then why the hell haven’t you done it sooner?” But I knew where that would lead us and I didn’t want to go there—yet. He pressed another kiss against my collarbone before he straightened in his seat. His hair, I noted with satisfaction, was thoroughly disheveled from my fingers, and his lips were swollen from our kisses.
The shrill sound of ringing almost sent my heart flying through my chest. Alec fumbled in his pockets for his cell and rolled his eyes when he saw the screen. The caller ID read “Mom.” I thought Alec hadn’t seen his parents since he’d come to the FEA.
“What do you want?” As soon as I heard his tone I realized how stupid I’d been. Of course, it wasn’t his real mom. It was Summers, his pretend mom for the mission. “Jesus, Summers, you sound like a nanny.” I couldn’t hear her response, but it must have been something equally insulting because Alec grinned. I wanted to reach out and grab him, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, but I wasn’t sure if our kiss gave me the right to keep touching him.
His face tightened at something she said. “Okay. Tell him I’ll be home soon.” He ended the call.
“I never thought Summers was the motherly type,” I said.
“She isn’t, believe me. She’s not happy without someone to boss around and she’s worried I’ll bust our cover if I’m not home like a good schoolboy. And Major showed up a few minutes ago. Apparently, he wants to talk to me.” He looked anxious at the prospect.
I touched his cheek, the stubble prickling my fingertips. “It’ll be okay.” Without thinking I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. For one heart-stopping moment I thought he’d pull away, but then his arms came around me.
“We need to get you back home,” Alec said after a moment. “Can you shift?”
I tried to relax against the seat and closed my eyes, acutely aware of Alec’s gaze on me. I reached for my Variation, tried to coax it.
Nothing.
“You can do it.” Alec’s voice was calm and full of confidence, and suddenly I felt it too. Calm and confident. It was like his words had crept into me and washed away all the doubt and worry.
The rippling started in my toes and snaked up my body and after a few seconds it was over.
“And?” I asked.
He smiled. “You did it.”
I couldn’t resist. I leaned over and kissed him again. I never wanted to stop.
CHAPTER 16
* * *
The next morning, Devon remained silent during our ride to school. I was exhausted. I hadn’t dared to fall asleep all night, scared I’d change back into my own body again. He looked like he hadn’t slept much either, like something was bothering him.
“Is anything wrong?” I asked. My voice was suddenly loud in the silence of the car and Devon cringed in surprise as if he’d forgotten I was beside him.
“Why do you ask?”
“You look tense,” I said, watching his face for a reaction.
“I didn’t sleep much.” Then, as if a switch had been turned, he gave me the grin that seemed to lighten everything around. “Don’t worry, Maddy.”
We eased into the parking lot, where Ana stood waiting for me. Devon scuttled out of the car before I could ask him anything else. His behavior didn’t really help to stifle my curiosity. Something was definitely wrong. Ana approached us as I climbed out of the car, but Devon was immediately on his way toward the school building. It looked like the devil snapped at his heels.
“What happened? You look suspiciously happy,” Ana said.
My stomach exploded with butterflies as I thought about seeing Alec again.
I shrugged. “I’m just happy, I guess.”
“You guess? Did you have another date with Alec? You didn’t even tell me anything about the last one. What’s going on with you guys? I’m your best friend. I deserve to know!”
“I’ll tell you soon. I promise. I’m kind of distracted at the moment, freaking out over a test later.” That was a lie of course. But maybe I could at least tell her about the kiss. If Alec and I got together, everyone at school would find out anyway. I wondered if he’d already broken up with Kate. Would he tell her about us?
My eyes were drawn toward the teacher parking lot, where Yates was rummaging around in the trunk of his car. “Just a sec,” I said to Ana as I craned my neck to get a better view. There were a few items strewn around the trunk—sneakers, a tennis racket, some books—but my eyes came to rest on a huge bottle of disinfectant. Did he need it to cover up evidence?
I turned around and hurried away. I’d have to talk to Alec about it. Ana fell into step beside me as we made our way into the building and toward our first class. Alec wasn’t in his spot yet but we still had a few minutes until the class started. Mrs. Coleman swept into the room. Her dress, with its giant collar and garish floral pattern, was probably deemed a crime in some countries.
“She’s got some sense of style,” Ana whispered. I let out a laugh that I turned into a cough when Mrs. Coleman’s a
ngry eyes settled on me. My thoughts returned to Yates. The evidence against him felt overwhelming. He’d had an affair with Madison, he’d been at the lake near the time of the attack, and he seemingly had the most to gain from her disappearance. It was almost too easy. I had to figure out why he’d kill the others.
The bell rang just as Alec entered the classroom. I sat up straighter, trying to catch his eyes. He took his seat without a single glance in my direction.
I looked over my shoulder at him, while Mrs. Coleman began scribbling on the blackboard. He busied himself shuffling his schoolbooks and notepad but eventually he had no choice but to meet my eyes.
Whatever had been between us yesterday was over and forgotten. His face was as unmoving as a statue, his eyes hard and emotionless. My lower lip started to quiver. The look on his face softened. It looked filled with regret, mixed with something like guilt and sympathy. I wanted to be on the receiving end of none of them.
I listened to Mrs. Coleman, feigned interest, nodded when it was appropriate, laughed when it was expected, and took notes. But inside, I felt hollow. The moment class ended, I sprang out of my seat, swung my backpack over my shoulder, and hurried out of the room. Maybe I should have waited for Ana, but I couldn’t risk meeting Alec when I knew his words would crush me.
A rippling started in my toes and panic washed over me. Not here. Not now.
I dropped my backpack—it hit the ground with a thud, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. I began sprinting, my feet barely touching the ground as I pumped my legs. The corridors grew crowded as people streamed out of their classrooms. Some of them stopped to stare. I bumped into them, pushed them out of the way, ignoring their curses.
The undulating reached my calves. I heard someone call my name.
I burst through the front door of the school. Finally outside, I picked up speed until my sides burned and my lungs constricted. Rippling snaked its way into my thighs, through my upper body.
Soon I’d be back in my own body. In the middle of the school courtyard. Within plain view of anyone who cared to look outside.
The rippling turned into a quivering that nearly sent me flying to the ground. In the last moment I caught my fall against a tree. Leaning my forehead against the rough bark, I took deep breaths, trying to regain control of my body. My fingers clutched at the tree. Its rough edges bit into my skin, cutting, burning. The rippling stopped somewhere around my chest and slowly ebbed away. My breathing calmed. I loosened my hold on the tree and stood up straight.
Steps crunched on the rough asphalt. Not Ana’s heels. Long, certain strides. He was close. I could feel his presence right behind me like a shadow.
I braced myself for the words that would inevitably come.
“We need to talk,” Alec said, in a quiet voice. “I don’t know what came over me yesterday. I’m sorry.”
He knew better than to touch me but he was so close I could smell his aftershave.
“You’re sorry?” I whispered. The words came out shaky. Not because I was going to cry. For once, I was past that point. This time I was shaking from anger. Anger at him for toying with me, for ignoring months of tension, then kissing me and acting like it meant nothing. Anger at Major for forcing us to work together, though he knew something was brewing between us. But most of all, I was angry at myself for being so stupid and so weak.
I whirled around to face him. “So what, you just change your mind from one day to the next and I’m supposed to accept it just like that?” I snapped my fingers. How could he do this to me? He’d said he’d wanted to kiss me for so long. He’d said nobody understood him like I did. Had he been lying?
“I—” He shook his head. “I lost control and that can’t happen again. I talked to Major—”
“You told Major?!” I’d thought what happened was something sacred between him and me, something special.
“No, he already knew. It wasn’t that hard to guess with me gone in the middle of the night and all. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” He took a deep breath. “You have to forget what happened yesterday. It’ll only endanger the mission.” His tone was so controlled, so completely unemotional that I wondered if this didn’t mean anything at all to him. How could he switch his emotions on and off like that when I felt like I’d lost control altogether? “It shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”
You’re a mistake. That’s what he meant. After everything we’d been through, I’d thought that he of all people wouldn’t hurt me like this.
“Yes,” I said harshly. “You’re right. It was a mistake.” Refusing to look at him, I breezed past him, but he reached out and touched my shoulder. I jerked back. “Don’t touch me ever again.” I wanted to hate him, but even now the look in his eyes stirred something inside me.
He lowered his arm. “I’m very sorry.” Before I was out of earshot I heard words I was sure weren’t meant for me to hear. “For more than you’ll ever know.”
Inside, the corridors had cleared. The next class was about to begin and I was still shaking with emotions. I had no clue where to find my backpack. It wasn’t where I’d dropped it.
I walked to my locker, trying to stop my throat from constricting. I was not going to cry. Not here, not now, and certainly not because of him. He didn’t deserve my tears.
I opened my locker and leaned my head against the door.
“I picked up your stuff.”
The voice was familiar. I jerked my head up, not caring how upset I looked. Phil Faulkner stood in front of me, holding my backpack. Had he been following me? Had he been watching Alec and me? I took it from him with a curt “thanks.” I knew I should have said more but making small talk was the last thing I was in the mood for.
“What happened?” His eyes—that creepy watery blue—were too inquiring, his expression too sympathetic. Something wasn’t right with him. He was always watching me, always hovering nearby. His hand twitched toward my own but then he let his arm drop to his side. I tried to take a step back but bumped against the wall. I brushed past him, careful not to touch him. “I really need to get to class, but thanks again.”
CHAPTER 17
* * *
That night, I busied myself with online research, though I didn’t expect to find anything. Other, more experienced agents had perused the case files ad nauseam and surely would have noticed if something was off, but I needed to distract myself from the hollow sensation in my belly.
The FEA database contained some seriously disgusting and creepy photos from the crime scenes, shots so disturbing it was clear why I hadn’t been given them before.
One was a headshot of the janitor, Mr. Chen, who’d been killed in the backyard of his house. The photo was blurry, but it looked as though blood trickled from his ears and nose, and his eyes were wide and bulgy. His expression—pained and tired—made me think that he’d struggled a long time before death. The killer hadn’t used a wire to strangle him and the FEA hadn’t yet figured out how exactly he’d done it.
The ping of an incoming e-mail interrupted my search. I clicked on the little envelope from Holly, which was likely a response to the rambling e-mail I’d sent her about Alec.
Hi sweetie,
I’m so, so sorry. I can’t BELIEVE that happened. I want to wring his neck.
Why the hell can’t Alec pull his head out of his ass and finally realize that you’re perfect for each other? Though now he doesn’t deserve you after all the shit he’s put you through. I just don’t get it. He’s never been an insensitive asshole before. Maybe Kate brainwashed him during their mission a few months ago. That would explain why he endures her bitchiness. I wish I was there to distract you.
Hugs,
Holly
P.S. I dyed my hair fury-red in your honor.
I closed the e-mail and blew my nose before I returned to the crime database. Two of the victims—Madison and Kristen—had been found close to the lake. There were pictures of the A’s the killer had cut into the skin of his victims. They all l
ooked exactly like the one on Madison’s rib cage. I touched the spot under my bra.
There had to be something else here, some detail the killer forgot to cover. I searched Google for more mentions of the murders and found a few articles on the website of a local rag.
The first was about Mr. Chen.
“Mr. Mendoza was on his nightly jog when dense fog forced him to take a shortcut past the victim’s backyard . . .”
Dense fog? There had been fog the first night I’d seen the stranger watching my window and then again when I’d followed him into the forest. And fog had kept Alec from catching the guy. And hadn’t Yates said it had been a hazy day when Madison was attacked?
I clicked on an article about Kristen Cynch and glanced through it until I found what I was looking for.
“The retrieval of the body of high school senior Kristen Cynch (17) was complicated by mist that blanketed parts of the northern shore.”
My hand shook when I opened the next report about Dr. Hansen.
“The neighbors didn’t find the body until early the next morning, after the fog had lifted.”
The articles about Madison also mentioned fog. Livingston was notoriously rainy, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that every murder was accompanied by a curiously thick mist.
Fog. That had to be the hint we’d been searching for. What if the killer was a Variant who could control the weather in some way? I jumped up from my desk chair and turned out the lights before I slipped out the window, almost breaking my neck when I lost my grip on the ledge. I was already running late for the meeting. Summers wouldn’t excuse tardiness—not even a broken bone would change that.
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