His shoulders shrug against mine. “Instead of asking you what was wrong, or even asking why you broke up with him, I got pissy because you weren’t confiding in me, and I sulked. You were backing away, and I missed you, and I never thought that, maybe, something happened that you weren’t comfortable bringing up. Something that I should have known already because the people hurting you were . . .”
“Your friends.”
He tenses. “I . . . I want to say they’re not, Kate. That they’re just kids I hang out with at school. That sounds like an excuse, though. I do hang out with them. They consider themselves my friends. I should have known what was going on.”
“They were very careful to make sure you didn’t. You’re the cool Danvers twin.”
His laugh comes as a snort, his cheeks coloring. “Trust me, I’m not, and if they’ve made that mistake, that’s their loss. I . . . I don’t know what happened, Kate. One minute you were the cool one, and I was your tagalong brother, and then suddenly, from the way people acted, it was like we switched places, and I don’t know why because we didn’t change. At all.”
“We grew up,” I say. “What was cool and quirky in middle school was weird in high school. I felt like . . .” I step back, hands going into my pockets. “Dad says he felt like other kids could tell he didn’t belong. It’s like that for me. I don’t think they’re sensing that I’m not human. They can just tell I’m different. Like a dog in a wolf pack. Sometimes they’ll accept it . . . and sometimes they’ll drive the imposter out. I just don’t fit.”
“I don’t think it’s that, Kate. You’re smart. You’re outspoken. You say what you mean. You don’t suffer fools gladly. If you were a guy, that’d make you king of the hill. But you aren’t, and I saw you struggling. To me, though, you’re like an Amazon striding through the battlefield, chopping down anyone who gets in her way, and I just left you to it, figured you were doing fine. But just because you can fight back doesn’t mean the blows don’t hurt.”
I hug him tight. “Thank you. As for fall term, we’ll discuss that later. For now, we’ve got bigger things to deal with.”
He nods. “Whoever owns this cabin is a spellcaster, probably a witch. I’m going to talk to Holly about that. See if we can combine our research databanks to come up with an answer.”
“And I’ll look around. See if I can find any clues about the spellcaster or that demon.”
Chapter Two
Kate
I start my survey of the building. There’s a sense of the unreal about the place that slithers down my spine and prickles my nerves. It looks rustic. Very rustic, as if it’s been boarded up for a hundred years. Yet I doubt the structure is half that old, and there are odd, almost anachronistic touches throughout that make it seem like a Hollywood set. The rustic pioneer cabin, complete with animal-skin rugs and a flintlock over the stone fireplace . . . and a bottle of honeysuckle hand sanitizer that a crew member forgot in the bathroom.
I keep telling myself that I’m just on edge, because, really, who wouldn’t be? I feel as if someone stuck me in a clothes dryer and hit Super-spin.
While I’d treated Mason’s dire warnings lightly, I’m all too aware that he has a point. Exactly how long can we stay in here without food or water? Paige is due at the conference tomorrow, and no one will come searching for us before that. I don’t want them to, either, considering what’s out there.
If this cabin rubs me the wrong way, that’s just me being anxious and sore. So what if it looks ancient with out-of-place modern touches? People build faux Victorian manors all the time, and it doesn’t matter how much gaudy antique bling they stuff inside, they’ll still have their big screen TV and a microwave.
Except this isn’t like that. This feels staged. It feels wrong.
I’m in the bedroom, running my fingers through dust on the headboard while staring down at a crisp quilt that looks and smells freshly laundered as the scent of lavender wafts up.
When Elijah steps in, I only nod, acknowledging him. Then I bend to look for electrical outlets. There are none. Just a candle by the bedside, one that smells of . . . beeswax? There’s a splotch of wax on the floor, and I lower myself to touch it. It’s soft. That’s—
The creak of the door startles me, and I look over as Elijah shuts it behind him.
“Do you have a second to talk?” he asks.
“Not really.”
“I just want—”
I rise. “This is awkward. I get that. You wanted nothing to do with me, and now we’re on the run together, so you’d like to smooth things over. Not necessary.”
“I know I hurt you—”
“Yes, yes, you did, and the fact that I’m admitting that suggests I’m a little freaked out by everything else. But sure, let’s be honest. You were an asshole, and you hurt me.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You asked me to be your fake girlfriend. Your idea, not mine. You were having trouble with the girls at camp, so I was going to be your shield. Fine by me—I didn’t like the attention I was getting, either. You seemed nice, interesting, fun to be around. You’re a helluva kisser. You’re also hot, which is always a bonus. We had a blast, and the next morning, you dumped me . . . after I did absolutely nothing wrong.”
“You didn’t. It was—”
“It was you, not me. Yep, but the problem is that you made me feel like it was me, as if I was some stalker chick, as bad as the others. I followed your lead. Agreed to be your girlfriend. Kissed you when you initiated it. Didn’t cling or hang around.”
I meet his gaze. “Logan was attacked in his bed last night because he’s a werewolf. I wanted to warn you about that since you are, you know, a werewolf, and you brushed me off like I was making up crap to get your attention after you dumped me.”
“I didn’t mean that at all.”
I start pacing the room, scanning it, not sure what I’m looking for, but keeping busy as I talk. “You treated me like shit, Elijah. I thought you were someone I’d like to get to know as a friend with or without the fake boyfriend nonsense. But you turned out to be just another garden-variety asshole who thinks every girl is chasing him for a hookup.”
“I never thought that about you, Kate. I just . . . I needed some distance and—”
“And now you can’t get it because you’re stuck with me. That’s awkward, and not only for you. So I’m going to suggest that we drop it. Forget what happened. You’re just a fellow camper who escaped with us like Cranky-Vamp back there. Now, you’ve said your piece, and I have work to do.”
“I haven’t said anything. I’ve barely gotten a word in with you presuming what I came to talk about.”
I glare at him, but he only meets it with a level stare.
“I am sorry for what happened,” he says. “I suck at apologies, so I’ve been trying to show you that I’m sorry. I realize now that it looks as if I was trying to wriggle back into your good graces because I wanted to join your escape. That’s not true, but I’ll table that discussion. Right now, there’s something we need to—”