"I thought you weren't going to faint." He scowls at me. I hate when he scowls at me.
"I'm not."
I lean back against the armrest and grab a pillow, hugging it against me, like a barrier between us. That's what he thinks it is, too. I can tell because his eyes get all hurt looking, so I put the pillow back on top of the couch. It tumbles down on Nick's head. I laugh. He laughs too and bonks me with it. Dust swirls into the air and I sneeze.
"It's just weird, okay," I say, tearing the pillow out of his hands. "It's weird finding out someone's a werewolf. I don't even believe in werewolves. It's impossible. It's physically impossible."
"Not really."
"Well, obviously."
My hand flits in the air, gesturing at him. I pull it back down into my lap. "And Betty is a were too, and if it's genetic that means that my dad-I mean my stepdad-was probably one."
"Brilliant deduction."
"Shut up."
He is being annoying: smiling at me like it's fun to watch me squirm. A million questions rattle inside me. I ask the first one, "So how do you actually become a werewolf?"
"Born that way. Or bitten." He wiggles his eyebrows. "You interested?"
I shriek and jump back, knocking my hip into the side of the sofa and almost falling onto the floor. "No!"
He catches me around the waist with his too-big hands and hauls me back on the sofa, laughing a real laugh, all big and hearty. "I was kidding, Zara. I'd never let that happen to you."
"Really?"
His eyes melt me. "Really. I'd never letanything happen to you."
"Oh. Right. Hero-complex thing. You're a werewolf with a hero complex. That's so funny."
He doesn't answer. The muffled light of the room gives everything a romantic sort of glow, even though the fire kind of dries the air out and makes my throat hurt. My heart pings in my chest, hope making it beat fast, too fast. His hand reaches out and touches the back of my head. His fingers entwine with my hair. It happens again, that melting feeling, the longing feeling. I want to gesture my body against his body, to explain things like need. The blanket he wears rubs against his legs and my legs.
His voice comes out husky. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"
I don't think I can speak anymore so I just nod.
"Okay."
His lips warm against mine. My arms wrap around his shoulders and he presses me to him. I am warm here, safe. The backs of my knees tingle and I feel absolutely the opposite of empty. I feel like my life will burst open with good.
Finally I say, "I can't believe you're kissing me."
He leans back and tucks his big hand along the side of my face. "What? Aren't you kissing me back?"
I shrug. "I just thought…"
"Thought what?"
"That maybe you… Oh, I don't know. Didn't kiss girls. Donot get mad. That's what Issie and Devyn said."
"That I didn't kiss girls?"
"Yeah. I thought it was because you were a pixie maybe. I saw gold dust on your jacket."
"You what?" There's an edge to his voice.
"I didn't really think. I just sort of thought it." I snuggle in, try to calm him down.
"When was there dust on my jacket?"
"After you helped me with my car."
He nods. "That was after I went through the woods searching for him. I dropped my jacket before I turned. I probably picked it up then. I can't believe you thought I was a pixie."
"Only a little." We sit there for a minute. "I think we should call Issie and Devyn and tell them."
"That we made out?"
I elbow him. "No. The pixie/were stuff."
I haul myself up off the couch and grab the phone off the brick hearth. It's warm. I start pushing in numbers. "And then maybe we should all go out looking for Jay."
The phone makes a funny noise. The display reads "no signal."
"Great," I say.
Nick gets up and grabs the other phone, listens. "The lines are out."
I flip open the cell. "No signal."
I pocket the phone.
Nick points outside. Blue lights fill the windows, flash through the windows. "The police are here."
Pogonophobia fear of facial hair, mostly beards Two cops come to the door, both sheriffs deputies. Their hands are on their guns, like they're ready for action.
"You Zara?" the taller one with the beard asks. His hair is red and short.
I nod.
"Sergeant Fahey," he says, taking his hand off his gun and reaching out to shake mine. He sees Nick behind me and lets himself smile. "Hey, Nick."
Nick nods and smiles.
"So, you found your way back," Sergeant Fahey says, taking in the blanket around Nick's waist. He nods to the other officer, who is beardless and really young looking. "Safe and sound. So… Deputy Clark and I don't have to go searching."
"Nope," Nick says. "Sorry about that."
"Sorry? It's a good thing," Deputy Clark says. Then he shivers in the cold.
"Oh, do you guys want to come in?" I ask.
"Nope. Thanks," Sergeant Fahey says, all straight-backed and official, which makes Officer Clark grimace. "But your grandmother told us you heard a man in the woods saying your name?"
I nod. "And he tried to attack Nick."
Sergeant Fahey's eyes grow all big. "Really?"
Nick glares at me and then I realize that there's no proof. His wound's already healing. "It was nothing. I ran away."
His mouth twitches. Running away is so the opposite of who he is. That lie is costing him.
Deputy Clark whips out a pad. "Can you describe him?"
Nick does. They come inside, sit on the couch, and ask questions. Deputy Clark asks a lot of questions, mostly I think because he doesn't want to go back outside into the cold. Then they get up and head into the woods with these supercharged flashlights looking for the man.
We stand at the windows and watch the light flash through the darkness, searching.
"They'll never find him," Nick says.
"You don't know that."
"He doesn't leave a trail." Nick turns away and sits back on the couch.
I don't join him. I just keep staring out at the night and the officers. My voice hitches inside my throat. "I thought you were gone."
"I'm tougher than that."
"Because you're a were?" I close the curtain again.
"Yeah."
"You got hurt even though you're a were." I turn around and look at him, so solid and healthy on the couch, so normal looking, in a ridiculously good-looking human kind of way.
"But you read what it said on that Web site. We're the natural enemy of pixies."
"Did you even know pixies existed until this week?"
He cringes, touches his shoulder. "No. But for the last month or so Devyn and I knew there was something out there, something bad. Issie too. We told Issie."
"Your parents are weres too, right? But they're out on some photo shoot somewhere."
"Making a documentary."
"And they just left you here alone. I thought wolves were pack animals, that they hang together."
"They do, but my parents… We've got some interesting family dynamics going on."
"How do you mean?"
"When the son of an alpha wolf, the leader, grows, he matures into alpha himself, and then there's some tension because there's just this genetic need to be alpha."
"To be the one in charge. The hero."
"Basically. But there can only be one alpha, so my parents have been taking an extended trip this year, and next year too, until I go to college. That way my dad and I don't rip each other apart."
"Because you're both alpha?"
He nods.
"Wow. That's weird."
A truck rumbles into the driveway. I watch the police walk out of the woods and talk to Betty by her truck. Then they leave and she comes inside, all business.
She points at Nick. "Take off your shirt."