The Calling (Darkness Rising) (17 page)

She surveyed our faces. “Try living like that, and I bet you’d become really careful about everything you say, too. I bet you’ll think that maybe, just maybe, growing up in a nice town, with everything you ever wanted, isn’t such a terrible thing. Maybe you’ll think the lies weren’t so bad.”

She stalked off ahead. Daniel shrugged at me, then went back to collect Corey and Hayley. I caught up to Sam.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t, okay?”

“I was only going to say that we need to head that way.” I pointed.

“Right.” A soft, choked laugh. “Kind of ruins the dramatic effect if I’m storming off in the wrong direction, doesn’t it?” She shook her head, then waited with me for the others to reach us.

D
ARKNESS WAS FALLING
. T
HERE’D
been no sign of our pursuers, so we finally surrendered to exhaustion and found a sheltered grove of trees for the night.

We couldn’t risk building a fire, but our clothing was long dried, and the night was warm, with the trees blocking the wind. Kenjii stretched out against my back, which was as good as a fire, and I should have dropped into an exhausted sleep. I didn’t.

About a half hour passed before I heard Daniel get up. He tried to pad silently across our sleeping area, until he stopped by my head and hunkered down.

“Yes, I can’t sleep either,” I whispered.

He motioned me up. Kenjii rolled to her feet and silently followed us. He didn’t need me to take the lead. It was a three-quarter moon in a cloudless sky.

He kept checking over his shoulder, making sure I was still there. Every time he looked ahead, again I’d watch him and remember what Sam said about Nicole. I imagined how he’d react and that crushed any concern I had about not telling him the truth.

He’d blame himself, wonder what he’d done to encourage Nicole, when the truth was that he hadn’t encouraged her. Just being himself was enough. Nicole fell for Daniel for the same reasons almost every girl at Salmon Creek had, at one time or another. He wasn’t hard to look at—wavy blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, gorgeous smile… It was the smile that did it the most, because it wasn’t calculated or flirtatious—it was open and it was friendly and it told you this was, as Sam said, a good guy. A really good guy. That’s why girls fell for Daniel. He could no more stop that than he could stop the sun from coming up.

So what did he get for being a decent guy? An obsessed classmate who’d apparently killed his girlfriend, and was trying to do the same to his best friend because now she’d decided I was the one keeping them apart.

Well, unless we encountered Nicole again, he wasn’t going to find out about that. The obsessed classmate would remain a tragically kidnapped friend. The dead girlfriend would remain the victim of a freak accident no one could have foreseen. And the best friend had just panicked or been attacked by some underwater creature.

We reached an outcropping of rock far enough from the others that we could talk without disturbing them. We stretched out on our backs. Kenjii nestled down by our feet.

For a few minutes we lay in comfortable silence, enjoying the warm fall night and the star-dotted sky.

“I’m sorry about Nicole,” he said finally.

That startled me so much I pushed up onto my elbows.

“Were you drifting off?”

“No. Just—You mean about leaving her behind? Don’t be sorry.”

Really, don’t be sorry
.

“You were right,” I continued. “I was acting on emotion; you were using your head. I’m sure she’s on the mainland by now. A long way from here.”
At least, I hope she is
.

“I feel awful about leaving her behind.”

“Of course you do. But it was the right choice.”

“I’m really glad she’s alive.” He looked over. “That was great news. I was worried about you. Losing Rafe, and then Nicole, after you guys started being friends, and I know you weren’t over losing Serena yet.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Well, obviously. I just mean…”

“I know.” I tried to see his expression in the moonlight, but he was looking at the sky again. Thinking about Serena. After a moment, I slid my hand over his. “I know you’re not over her either.”

“Right.”

The word came out thick and he turned his face a little farther to the other side. I sat up, cross-legged. When he didn’t move, I touched his shoulder.

“Anytime you want to talk—”

He sat up so fast I nearly toppled off the rock. He didn’t seem to notice. He sat down again on the other side, looking the other way, feet dangling over the edge, his shoulders set.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just never know whether you want to talk or don’t want to—”

“I was going to break up with her.”

He blurted it so fast, I wasn’t sure I understood. I lowered myself to sit cross-legged beside him.

“You were…”

“I was going to break up with Serena. End it. Dump her. Right before she died.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,
oh
.” A sardonic twist of his lips. He went to stand. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have—”

I caught his hand. “Don’t. You want to talk about this, right?”

He hesitated. Then another humorless smile. “I’m not sure
talk
is the right word. More like confess.”

“So what happened?” I asked. “She hadn’t mentioned a fight or anything.”

“Because there wasn’t one. Because nothing happened. Nothing went wrong. It just—” He took a deep breath, then let it out, cheeks puffing. He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted, then took another breath. “We were doing fine. But it wasn’t … going anywhere. When she first asked me to that dance, I didn’t feel right saying no. She was a friend and—”

He swallowed. Rubbed his neck again. Looked around. Then he motioned at the rock. “Can we lie down again? I think I’ll do this better…”

“If you’re talking to the sky?”

A half laugh, half snort. “Yeah. Lame, I know, but—”

I stretched out on my back. He did the same.

“So you went to the dance…” I prompted.

“Right. And it was fine. I liked Serena. She was fun to be around, and easy to get along with and … well, you know. There was no reason
not
to go out with her, since that’s what she wanted and…” He paused. “But that’s not really a good enough reason to go out with someone either. I started figuring that out. Mostly because of the summer boys.”

“Her flirting with them? She—”

“She didn’t mean anything by it, I know. And I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t the least bit jealous or insulted and I started to realize that I should be. Even if I trusted her, I should have felt something when she flirted with other guys. Instead, I’d almost hope…”

He rubbed his mouth. Blurted the words again. “I almost hoped she’d meet someone else. I played the whole thing out in my head. I’d tell her it was okay, and we could still be friends. That’s when I realized I wasn’t being fair, letting her think things were fine and keeping her from finding someone else. I had to end it.”

I nodded.

“Only doing it wasn’t easy. I was close, really close when…”

“She drowned.”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That must have been—”

“Hell.” He spat the word. “It was hell. I felt like the biggest phony ever. The grieving boyfriend who hadn’t even wanted to be her boyfriend anymore.”

He sat up then. After a moment, he looked at me.

“I did grieve. I missed her. I really did.”

“Like me. A grieving friend.”

He nodded. “Only no one would let me be that. It felt like everyone wanted me to be heartbroken, and when I wasn’t…”

“You felt guilty.”

“It was like they went back and rewrote our history. Sure, we’d been going out for almost a year, but it … it wasn’t serious, you know? Not like Brooke and Alan, crazy about each other, can’t keep their hands off each other, and everyone knows they’re going to get married and grow old together. With Seri and me, it was more like you and your summer boys. Just fun. No one expected it to be a forever thing. Then she died, and it was as if … as if people wanted it to be more. More tragic. More romantic.”

“I don’t think they meant that,” I said. “If I ever made you feel—”

“You didn’t. With you, I could just be the guy who lost a good friend. Until…”

“Until I started worrying about you not dating. Started thinking you and Serena had been more serious than I realized.”

“All I had to do was tell you the truth. Only I couldn’t. At first, it felt like I’d be dumping on you for no reason. By the time you started worrying about me, it was too late. I couldn’t figure out how to say it.”

“Kind of like me and this skin-walker business?”

A faint smile. “I guess so.”

“I wish you’d told me.”

He met my gaze then. “So do I.”

I paused, then said, “She was happy. Serena. If you had broken it off, she’d have understood. She was—”
Crazy about you
. I couldn’t say that, of course. It wouldn’t make this easier. “That last year… She was really happy.”

“Good.”

More silence. Less comfortable now. I glanced over at him. Time to change the subject.

“So, you were going to tell me about your powers. Still up for it?”

“If you are.”

“Definitely.”

Daniel said he first noticed changes in the boxing ring—getting faster and sharper, sensing blows before he even saw them coming. The persuasion, too. He’d always found it easy to persuade people to listen to him. Simple skills like paying attention, looking them in the eye and being firm when he spoke. Lately, though, it seemed … too easy. Like with the tattoo artist’s aunt—he’d been able to get her to talk after she refused to.

“You gotta admit, that’s one sweet power,” I said.

“You think so?”

“Um, yeah. Duh.”

He glanced over. “Well, I think being able to change into a cougar is cool, which you obviously aren’t so sure of. Maybe we can switch.”

I laughed. “I wish. Shape-shifting will probably be cool, eventually, but changing from human to cat? I don’t think that’s going to tickle. Persuasion, though? I don’t see the downside.”

“No? So if I have this power, how do I know why people agree with me? Was I right when I persuaded the others not to go back for Nicole? Or did Hayley and Sam just agree because of my power?”

“No, you were right. And even if you did use your mojo, it obviously didn’t work on me.”

“That’s good.” He looked at me. “If I do have this power, I hope it never works on you. I wouldn’t want that.”

“Don’t worry. You can count on me to keep telling you you’re full of crap. And in this case, I’m not sure it was working on anyone. Corey stayed undecided. I think you have to switch it on, like you do sometimes.”

He nodded.

Another quiet moment. Then, “So you can tell when I switch it on?”

“I can.”