Come Alone

"Lena? You look like you saw a ghost."

"I'm fine." Lena crushed the note in her fist and shoved it deep into her pocket. "Just tired."

Poppy narrowed her eyes. "Tired people don't go that pale. Do you want me to walk you home?"

"No!" It came out too fast. Lena forced a smile. "No. I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

She left the library without another word. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, and with every step she felt the stranger's smile on her skin. We know what you are, Silver. She had been called a lot of things in six different schools, but never that.

She hurried along the covered walkway toward the parking lot, then stopped. Kane was leaning against a stone pillar with his arms crossed, as if he had been waiting for an hour.

"Rule one," she said. "We don't know each other."

"Nobody's looking." He pushed off the pillar and walked straight toward her. "Who touched your bag?"

"What?"

"Your bag. Someone touched it today. I can smell them on it."

Lena's stomach dropped. "That's a creepy thing to say."

"It's not creepy if it's true." He stopped close enough that she had to look up. His eyes were dark amber again, but his jaw was tight. "Black Ridge. You smell like Black Ridge. Who did you talk to?"

"I don't even know what that is."

"Lena."

"I talked to Poppy, and Selene breathed on me, and a hundred people bumped into me in the courtyard. Pick one."

He stared at her for a long moment. "Selene breathed on you?"

"She sniffed me, actually. What is wrong with you people?"

Kane muttered something under his breath. It sounded like a curse. "Did anyone give you anything?"

She hesitated for exactly one second. It was one second too long.

"No."

"You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible stepbrother." She stepped around him. "I have to go."

His hand caught her wrist. It wasn't rough, but it was firm, and the moment his skin touched hers, something strange rippled through her arm. It was warm and quick, like a spark running under her skin. Kane felt it too. His breath hitched, and his fingers tightened for half a heartbeat before he let go like she had burned him.

"What was that?" Lena whispered.

"Static," he said hoarsely.

"Static doesn't feel like that."

"Go home, Lena. Straight home. Don't stop anywhere."

"Kane—"

"Please."

She had never heard him say that word. It stopped her. She searched his face for the joke, the smirk, the mask, but there was nothing there except worry.

"Okay," she said quietly.

He watched her walk to the bus stop and did not look away until the bus pulled out.

Dinner that night was almost silent. Victor was in his study with a phone pressed to his ear. Kane's chair stayed empty. Lena pushed her food around her plate while Naomi sat across from her, pretending to eat.

"Mom."

"Hm?"

"Have you ever heard the word Silver used for a person?"

Naomi's fork clattered against the plate. "Where did you hear that?"

"At school. Someone said it. I thought it was weird."

"It's slang." Naomi stood up so fast that her chair scraped. "Probably some silly joke. I have a headache. I'm going to lie down."

"Mom, you just dropped your fork like it was on fire."

"I'm tired, Lena."

"You're scared."

Naomi stopped. Her back was to her, and her shoulders were trembling.

"I'm your mother," she said softly. "Being scared for you is my job. Please, let it go."

She left the room. Lena sat alone and stared at the dark window. Outside, the trees swayed gently in the wind. Somewhere past them, the old ruins waited.

Tell no one. Especially not him.

She unfolded the note again under the table. Beneath the writing was a crude little drawing she had missed before, a crescent moon with a line through it.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'll look. Just once."

At eleven-forty, she pulled on her darkest hoodie, climbed out of her window onto the roof of the porch, and dropped quietly to the grass. Her mother had told her never to go into the forest. She was breaking every promise she had made, and she could hear her own heartbeat the whole way.

The woods were darker than she had expected. The moon was nearly full, and it lit the path in cold silver patches. Every few steps she stopped, listening. Nothing followed her, but the forest felt awake.

"This is a terrible idea," she said to nobody. "This is the worst idea in the history of ideas."

She kept walking.

The ruins rose from the trees without warning. Broken stone arches, half-collapsed walls, and a circle of old pillars carved with moons. In the middle of it stood a man in a gray coat with his hands behind his back.

"Miss Hart," he said pleasantly. "You came."

Lena stayed at the edge of the circle, ready to run. "Who are you?"

"A friend."

"People who send threats aren't friends."

"Threats?" He chuckled. "Forgive me. That was only a nudge. I needed you to come alone."

"Why?"

"Because what I have to tell you is for your ears only." He took a step closer. His face was handsome and forgettable, with eyes so pale they looked almost white. "Do you know why your mother has dragged you from town to town for nineteen years?"

Lena's mouth went dry. "She says she likes new places."

"Your mother is a clever woman. A very brave one. But not honest." He tilted his head. "She was hiding you. From us, and from the man she married."

"Victor?"

"Victor Draven." He said the name like it left a bad taste. "Ask yourself why a woman who spent nineteen years running suddenly settled in his house. Ask yourself who might be waiting to hand her daughter over."

"That makes no sense. Victor's been kind to us."

"Kind men are the best hunters, Miss Hart." The man smiled sadly. "Victor Draven killed your father."

The words hit her like cold water. "That's a lie."

"Is it? Think about the way your mother flinches when he touches her. Think about the dogs that bow to you and the way his son looks at you like you're a ghost."

"Stop."

"Your father was a great man, and he was murdered in a fire the night you were born. Your mother has never once spoken his name to you, has she?"

Lena's hands were shaking. She had never known her father's name. She had never known his face. Her mother always changed the subject, and Lena had always let her.

"What was his name?" she whispered.

"Come with me, and I will tell you everything." The man held out his hand. "Not tonight, not here. But tomorrow, I will take you to someone who can give you answers. Someone who has been searching for you for years."

"Who?"

"Come with me, Silver."

She took one step back. Then another. "No."

"A pity." He sighed, and the smile slid off his face. "I was hoping to do this politely."

The air changed. The trees went quiet. From the darkness on every side, low growls rose, one after another, until Lena was circled by a ring of shining eyes.

"Don't run," the man said. "They'll only chase you."

Her heart stopped. She spun around, looking for a gap, and found none. Four wolves, five, six, each as big as a horse, and all of them baring their teeth.

"Take her," the man said calmly.

The nearest wolf lunged.

Lena screamed and threw up her arms. But the blow never came. A huge black shape crashed out of the trees and hit the wolf in mid-air, and the two animals rolled across the grass in a storm of snarls.

The black wolf rose to its feet and planted itself in front of her, hackles raised, teeth bared at the whole pack. Then it turned its head and looked back at her over its shoulder, and its eyes were a blazing, unmistakable gold.

Kane's eyes.