Page 24 of Dark

To this day, that drawing of moonlight filtering in through the lazy sway-back live oaks off the back deck was framed in the kitchen right over the sugar cannisters.

There was something raw and terrible about linking yourself to another person through a bond, at being able to feel ripples of their anger and hurt, lust and hunger, pride and shame, shivering through you night and day. It was one reason I fought tooth and nail to keep the pack bonds with my family closed down. Why I’d made a point never to let things with any girl go too far.

I stared down at Hayden, feeling that familiar urge to run, to shut down. I clawed it back. Her fingers encircled my wrist where her claiming mark pulsed just above my leather cuff, the raw connection of the bond flaring sharp as sunlight. Her eyes widened fractionally, and I leaned in, a breath from her lips.

“Yeah, the first part? Not true. There’s a difference between not knowing what you want and knowing you can’t ever have it.”

Hayden shivered, but I knew like this, linked with me, she could feel my absolute sincerity. That it wasn’t nothing. That we weren’t nothing. Not to me. Not ever.

“As for the second?” I smiled sadly, because we both knew I couldn’t promise she wouldn’t wind up getting hurt. Somehow, everyone around me always did. “I’ve always known the right thing was to stay away from you. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t been absolute torture.”

I released Hayden. She stared up at me, eyelashes fluttering black as ash against the pale expanse of her cheeks. But I’d been listening, even if she thought I hadn’t. This was happening too fast for her. Fine. I was in it for the long game.

Taking her hand, I weaved us around broken beer bottles and an old pizza box to the corner of the fence. This time, she didn’t pull away.

“Smell anything?”

Hayden wrinkled her nose. “Dog piss?”

“Cute. And not far off.”

I waited while she frowned, fingers hooking into the chain link. Her head whipped around.

“Say hello to your stalker.”

5

Hayden

“WOULDN’T WE BE SAFER BACK IN TOWN?” Settling back against the window of Ethan’s truck, I tucked one foot under my knee and stretched the other out across the floorboard. The old Ford rocked under a blast of brisk autumn wind, dappled sunlight filtering in through the leaves of the old live oaks out on the Caldwell property.

Across from me, Ethan dunked a triangle of grilled cheese into a paper cup of tomato soup. “You were bitten in the middle of Austin. How’s that safer going for you?”

“I was probably the only non-vegan food source for miles.”

“Other than, you know, Stubb’s, Franklin’s, Hut’s—”

“Why do I keep you around?”

“I know to ignore your instructions and dangle food in front of you when you start hangry-texting.”

“Bitch. And that so isn’t a thing.”

“You wanna ask your sister?”

“She’ll take my side.”

“Uh huh.”

Flipping him off, I bit into my sandwich. Layers of gooey smoked cheddar and gouda were melted between thick slices of crusty sourdough bread, the layers exploding with butter.

I scrolled through his phone, cueing up Dirty Projectors. The bass pounded out the opening rhythm, the drums laying down a beat that was both dark and defiant. The fingers of my left hand started to twitch. As the guitarist came in on the first chords, the hair at the back of my neck rose, the shiver that traced up my spine lighting me up better than sex.

Ethan stared out at the horizon. “Brody agreed to hold off calling the Council for a few days. We don’t know yet that your case is linked to the disappearances. He’s going over to the trailer park now to make some noise.”

I shivered. “So we’re basically out here as bait?”

Ethan met my eye. “He won’t touch you, Daisy.”