Second Skin (Skinned) (21 page)

“Nope, I’ve made arrangements.” I scraped my fork on my plate. The squeal of metal on ceramic had me shaking my head, the sound lingering deep in my ears. I brought my empty dishes to the sink. “I’ll be hanging out with Brit until the dance at seven. I think Paige and Janie have similar plans. I wouldn’t expect us home after school.”

“But you’ll be in by curfew. Both of you,” Sammi said. Not a question.

“Of course, wouldn’t want to get in trouble with Redgrave’s long teeth of the law.” I selected a bloodred apple from the fruit basket. Polished it on my jean-clad thigh.

Sammi paused, asking delicately, “Did you or Paige happen to see or hear anything about the Donnel girl?”

My breakfast threatened to make an unscheduled reappearance. “Yeah, we heard. She did that thing with her eyes.” I shuddered, not having to fake my revulsion. “They blocked off the whole east wing for an hour. Then presto, blood all mopped up and a round of homework for the lot of us.”

“The whole town is going crazy,” Marcus said. “Why, even Lenard from the office, Skinny Lenny we call him, had a run in with security at the Law Courts yesterday.” He shook his head. “Maybe there’s something to that old wives’ tale about full moons.” He rustled the newspaper and then sought refuge in the horror of lands far from our own.

“A lawyer losing his temper is one thing, Marcus. But this Lili incident…” Sammi cringed. “Such a shame.” She dropped a glue gun into her craft box. “I remember Lili from elementary school. That was one very, very shy girl. Had an odd phobia. Being stared at terrified her. She couldn’t even eat if others were in the room. Couldn’t even
eat
.”

The pieces fit together. Lili all phobic about being stared at gets trapped by her reflection in the mirror and gouges her eyes out. Oh, the night mare was an ironic bastard.

“She cut herself so horribly,” Sammi said, edging the bread knife she’d used to slice her bagel farther away from me.

Marcus changed the subject. “Well, I for one am glad to see you’ve adjusted to life here, Eryn. A few weeks into the move, and you’ve got some great friends. You’re going to the big school dance.” His eyes, so like my father’s, shone. “I think your parents would be proud.”

Proud?
Flashes of the dream. Sebastian’s holier-than-thou smile. The terrible knowledge I’d suppressed for months. The guilt. The single question eating away at everything I held dear— why had I betrayed my parents?

The rustle of paper brought me back to the present. Marcus was lost in the world of the daily news. I scanned the picture splashed on the front page of a burning scarecrow, and the equally shocking headlines,
Local Man FearsWorldWill End This Halloween
and
Outbreak of Random Violence Sparks Fear.

Lovely.

“Oh, Mom and Dad would be proud, all right.” I bit deep into the apple. Juices flooded my mouth, running down my chin. “Redgrave is just my kind of town.”

A horn honked outside.

I gathered my things and headed for the front door.

“What are you dressing up as for the dance? Something scary?” Marcus called out.

I looked back and shot him a grin. “I’m going as myself. Terrifying, don’t you think?”

Outside a rusted blood-orange, four-door sedan sputtered and spewed black smoke into the cool morning air, staining the pristine white snow that blanketed the concrete. Behind the wheel, grinning like an idiot and waving at me like we hadn’t seen each other in months, sat Brit.

“Good lord,” I said as I opened the passenger door and leaned over to scan the brown pleather interior. “You know Cinderella’s going to need it for the ball, right?”

Brit grinned. “Isn’t she a beauty? Mom lost her license”—she made a face—“for reasons I’m sure you can guess. So I get her wheels. Dad got it from the station for a steal. It used to be a ghost car, you know, for speed traps. She’s been in more than a few high speed chases.”

I glanced at the vehicle again. Okay, maybe it’d had a few glory days. Like in the ’70s. I thought ghost cars were supposed to blend in and be ghostly. This beast stuck out like an orange, pus- filled, gangrenous thumb.

Brit revved the engine, causing a burst of smoke to belch over my head. “Get in and I’ll show you what she can do.”

Oh joy. I slipped inside, making a point of fastening my seat belt.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Brit said as we shot out into the street. “We’re taking a shortcut.”

I choked back a curse. Brit’s shortcuts never turned out well. “Why do we need to take a shortcut? The school is dead ahead. Straight down this road for about five blocks.”

“You just never mind. Think of it as an adventure.”

I raised a brow. “
You’re
craving adventure?” Brit ignored me and turned down a gravel road that followed the line of woods behind Redgrave High. I stared out at the trees as they blurred passed. This was the woodland where I’d encountered both my first Redgrave werewolf and Alec running in the forest with his half-wolf, half-German-shepherd companion. My heart pulsed at the memory of outwitting the werewolf and then tearing through the woods with Alec at my side.

“Oh, shit!” Brit’s screech of alarm had me bracing myself on the dashboard before I even looked out the windshield and saw why she’d slammed on the breaks.

Oh, shit
was right.

Blake stood on the gravel before us. Head bowed, body trembling. Clad in a shredded T-shirt and jeans that looked more like chaps. Holy hell he’d changed since the last time we’d seen him—a monstrous blend of werewolf and dark sprite with barely a hint of humanity. Now Blake’s humanity shone through, his wings absent, his scales interwoven with chunks of human flesh and a dark pelt of werewolf fur. His eyes retained their goat-like pupils, but the features of his face had settled into human proportions— no more jutting jaws and salivating.

“Ohmigod, it’s Blake!” Brit shoved the heavy driver’s door open and bolted from the car before I could stop her. In the time it took me to exit the vehicle and rush to her side, Brit had burst into tears and wrapped her arms around her brother.

Brit was too trusting. Thankfully I didn’t have that problem. This was the second time Blake had approached us since the night mare business. I wondered if he was working for Logan after all. I let my wolf surface, my jaw aching as bones shifted, my incisors elongating into fangs. I glared into Blake’s freaky eyes. If he so much as squeezed Brit too hard, I’d be on him, my fangs sinking deep.

My legs twitched as Blake gripped Brit’s upper arms and gently pushed her away. While Brit struggled to control her sobs, I cut to the chase.

“What is happening to you?” I asked Blake.

“Eryn!” I ignored Brit as she whirled to face me, her eyes wide with shock.

“You look almost human.” I walked in a slow circle around the siblings, observing Blake closely. I sniffed the air around him. Not a hint of rotten eggs, just a mild case of wet dog. This wasn’t the night mare. Blake had nearly assumed human form. How was that possible? “Logan informed me you were doomed. That you could never turn back.”

“Logan was wrong.” Brit and I cringed when we heard Blake’s voice, guttural and raw as if he had knives in his throat. “I came to warn you. I don’t have much time.” He swallowed, his throat working. “Logan also underestimates me. I spy. I listen. I’ve heard things. He wants something from Kate. He’s using a demon as a decoy.”

Brit sniffled. “The night mare, yeah, we’ve met.” She held out her hand. “Blake, please, come with us. Kate’s powerful. She’s working on a spell. She can help you.” Her eyes brightened. “Maybe she already has. Maybe that’s why you’re like this.”

Blake huffed. “It’s not her. It’s the moon. It affects me differently than the other weres.” He tilted his chin, eyeing me now. “Instead of increasing my strength, it strips mine away.”

Brit bolted forward, clasping her brother in another awkward hug. “I don’t care how it’s possible. You’re here now. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Keep away from me.” Blake twisted from Brit’s hold, shoving her backward. I braced her fall, my hands at her back, supporting her weight. She quickly straightened and got in her brother’s face. “We’ll figure something out. Mom might…” Her voice

trailed off as she frowned. “Or maybe Dad…”

Blake shook his head, eyes wild. “Mom made her decision years ago. When she agreed to live in Redgrave, she let them take her power and her memories. She can’t help me, and Dad can’t be trusted, you know that. Half the time he’s under Logan’s thrall, and the other half, he’s just a human.”

“Then Kate’s our girl.” Brit features hardened. “Come with us.” She shot me a look that said,
Go with me on this, or I’ll rip your heart out.
“Eryn and I will get you to Kate. She’ll know what to do.”

But Blake was already backing away from us, his body trembling. “It doesn’t last, Brit,” he growled, features shifting as he spoke, returning to the brutal countenance of a werewolf once more. Wings erupted from his back, and he launched into the air.

Huge chunks of snow crashed down on our heads as he blasted through the treetops.

“Come back!” Brit’s scream pierced the air, but the only reply was the thrum of Blake’s wings.

When there was only the silence of the morning, I asked, “Why didn’t you go after him? You almost had him. I could tell he wants our help.”

Brit’s watery eyes met mine. “He’s not ready. Not yet.”

By the time we made it to school, Brit had changed as well. Gone were her tears and, as if she’d put on a Halloween costume early, Brit was peppy personified. You’d never know she’d just had her heart ripped out. Her changeability was terrifying. But terrifying didn’t cover the sight that greeted us when we entered the school and surveyed our chosen battlefield. The Harvest Moon Dance committee had gone all out, decorating the hall leading to the gym in full black-and-orange glory. Grinning jack-o-lantern banners and rubber bats dangled from the foyer’s ceiling.

“Ugh, Hallow-cheese all the way,” Brit said. She swatted at a particularly offensive low-hanging bat. Its outstretched wings bobbed wildly, reminding me of Brit’s drunken night flights.

“Any relation?” I asked, then dodged the solid punch she aimed at my stomach.

“Very funny, Eryn,” she said, her eyes flickering. She took a step closer, staring at the vicinity of my ear. “Are you shifting?”

My hands flew to my ears, searching, feeling for fur and an extension of cartilage. Nothing. My seashell-shaped ears were perfectly human.

I lowered my hands on a mock growl. “Nice one. But if you ever see that happening you’ll tell me, right?”

Brit grinned.

A hum of energy throbbed at my back. I scanned the streamers and spotted several small bundles of herbs pinned above the double doors of the main entrance. Alec and Matt had been busy last night, sneaking into the school and securing the ironclad protection packets in place. Each door to the school would be similarly rigged. The bundles were charged but wouldn’t go into effect until Kate chanted the spell from the safety of the café. With Paige safe in la-la land back at the Delacroix ranch, Brit, Matt, and Marie would stay at Conundrum and guard both Kate and her magic mirrors. That Marie had agreed to leave the ranch was a testament to the importance that the mirrors remain out of Logan’s reach. We’d figured he’d planned on attacking the café while Alec and I were busy with the night mare. A little old-fashioned divide and conquer.

We were working on a similar plan.

We had until seven o’clock to discover the night mare’s corporeal form and ensure it remained here in the school. At that point Kate would recite the spell. This time the iron charms wouldn’t keep the night mare out, they’d trap it inside the dream realm.

All I had to do then was meet it there and take it down, while Alec destroyed its physical manifestation. It came down to the two of us working as a team. Easy-peasy, in theory. Despite the tender moment Alec and I had shared the previous night, I couldn’t let my emotions rule my actions. I had to keep distance between us, or Alec would never be safe.

I inhaled, tamping down the dull ache that settled in my chest whenever I thought of how I kept messing things up with Alec, and focused on the task at hand. I filtered through the deodorant, hairspray, and cleaning product scents for the night mare’s sour gas signature. Nothing so far, but a dark energy charged the air, heavy and thick. Definitely not Kate’s bright magic. Something evil.

I ground my teeth in anticipation. Tonight there’d be hell to pay, and I was the one who was going to dish it out.

“Welcome to my nightmare,” a deep voice growled at our backs.

My heart jerked in horror. I unsheathed my athame from under my corduroy jacket and held it high as Brit and I whirled to face a four-foot-two, scar-faced, weathered-fedora-wearing killer. The miniature master of nightmares tapped his clumsy, plastic knife fingers together in a few dull clunks.

“Whoa, that thing looks crazy real,” he said, pointing a wobbling blade at my athame. “Where’s the rest of your costume?” He didn’t wait for my answer. Good thing, since I didn’t have one. A Red Queen, sauntering by in a micro mini skirt jacked up like a tutu, caught his attention, and he darted after her, slicing at her layers of crinoline, making her scream, “Off with his head!”