Cold Spell

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I was prepared for him to be a monster; I wasn’t prepared for him to look at me with such icy indifference. His expression is like the other four’s—he doesn’t know me, not the smallest bit. Somewhere, deep in my mind, I expected—no, not expected, wanted—him to see me and remember.

But he’s gone. There’s nothing of my Kai in his eyes, no spark of recognition, much less love.

Can he change into a wolf now? I need to know for sure; I have to know for sure. I need to see him change into a monster.

One of the others is looking from me to Kai, seemingly bored with the entire exchange. That one takes a step closer to me; when I instinctively take one backward, he smiles again.

“So, you’ll be coming with us to see her?” he asks, in a way that tells me the answer he’s hoping for is no. The answer he’s hoping for is pleading, is begging, is fear.

If you don’t have the upper hand, create it.

I take another step back. Their eyebrows lift ever so slightly, a way they don’t think I notice. Another step, and they lean forward, excited. Another, another—

I turn and run.

I hear them shouting, whooping behind me in excitement as I tear down the hill, following the path I came on. Faster, faster, keep moving—are they chasing me yet? I try to listen to know for sure. Yes, yes, they’re crashing along behind me. I can’t outrun them—they know that, and when I glance back, I see they’re hardly even trying. Still human, barely jogging, grinning in a way that makes Flannery’s smile look sweet.

They don’t know, however, that I’m not trying to outrun them.

I wait until I go over the hill, down the slope—just barely out of sight, where the trees are slightly smaller. I hold my breath and slam my body weight into a tree. The cold combined with the impact shoots pain through my bones, but I keep going—I hit another, another. Each time, snow crashes down; the shaking branches incite other branches to fall; powdery snow rises up like dust behind me. I can’t hear the boys anymore over crashing snow and tree limbs—but they can’t see me anymore, either.

I just need one, one good one—yes. I leap for a low-hanging branch. It stirs the tree and sends snow falling to the ground like all the others, but this time I hold on tight, pulling myself up and off the trail. I release and slam forward, falling down a short ravine; I’m bleeding, I think, and my head is foggy, but I grimace and lie still, quiet.

Snow is still falling, but it’s hard to hear the difference between the ruckus I created and five pairs of feet running after me. They’re moving faster now—they realize they’ve lost me. I squeeze my eyes shut as they near my hiding place; if just one looks to the left, he’ll see my red shirt, I’m sure of it.

But no. It works. They pass by the ravine without a second glance, following my old trail—the raccoon trick Lucas told me about. I raise up just in time to see the backs of their heads disappearing. Human heads—they didn’t change. Does that mean Kai can’t yet?

I rise, find my own trail, and follow along behind them, crouching down low in the snow. When we’re back by the frozen lake, they stop and stare out over the ice. They’ve lost my trail; they don’t know what to do. They mill around, something of the wolf in the way they pace back and forth at the lake’s edge.

They spread out along the shore, eyes on the rocky ground, scouring it for any sign of me—I could be circling back around to the shore. The older one in the center, at the mouth of my trail. Larson goes to his left, and Kai to his far left. I step into a thicket of snow, cringing when it comes all the way to my knees. When I look down, I see spots of blood in the white—my knee is bleeding from where I hit the ravine.

I cut along sideways through the woods, slowly, slowly so I don’t make a sound. I finally make it over to the stretch of shore Kai is exploring, his shoulders hunched forward and his breathing slow and methodical. He stares out over the lake, as if he thinks he sees something. Larson, on his right, a few dozen yards back now, is walking a few feet out onto the ice.

I grab a handful of snow and lob it as hard as I can in Kai’s direction. He pauses and turns; I see his eyes flicker to an area ahead of me. Kai takes a step forward. Yes, yes… though if he signals to the others, it’s over. I should have waited till they were more spread out, till he couldn’t reach them—

Kai starts up the bank toward me. Larson is preoccupied with something on the lake and doesn’t see him going. I exhale in relief, tuck myself against a thick tree trunk, and rub my fingers gently, readying them to hold the knife, reminding myself that he might not be Kai anymore. That it might be too late, and this is what Kai—my Kai—would want. I stare at the knife blade as Kai’s footsteps quicken. He runs forward, runs past me—

“Kai.” I say his name, refusing to let my voice shake.

He whirls around and finds me. He smiles; the slow, heinous expression doesn’t fit his face.

“You keep calling me that,” he says in a playful voice. He doesn’t blink; his eyes are wide and crazed-looking, void of any warmth.

“It’s your name,” I say. “Do you remember?”

He shakes his head, as if this delights him. It feels as if my heart is crumbling, becoming ash in my chest.

“Are you sure?” I ask, and my voice finally breaks. I won’t let tears fall—I can’t, I can’t risk not being able to see—but the sob in my throat won’t be stopped.

Kai takes a step closer to me, extends his fingers, and then balls his hands into tight fists. “You got away from us,” he says smoothly. “That was clever. You’re clever. What are you doing here?”

I exhale, forcing my shoulders back. Grip the knife. Say it, just say it, even if your voice cracks. The words jumble in my head before finding their way past my lips.

“I’m here to kill you.”

Kai smiles wider. And then he lunges for me.

I leap backward and spin around the tree trunk. He doubles back the other way, but I expected it; I lash out with the knife, catch his shirt, and slice at it, barely nicking the skin. Just as Flannery promised, he glances down at the wound; I fling myself at him, catching him off balance, and we tumble down together. He punches me in the stomach, hard, and I can’t find my breath, but don’t stop, don’t stop. This might be your only chance. I bring the knife down, dig my knee into his chest, and position the blade over his heart. He goes to swipe it away, and I press down, drawing the tiniest bit of blood.

Kai’s arms fall back; his eyes find mine, cold and hard and hateful. He twists underneath me; I press the knife down again, grimace as I feel it pop through a layer of skin. Kai tries to swallow a groan, but I hear it anyway. His chest trembles in pain.

“They’ll kill you,” he whispers at me. “They’ll tear you apart. As soon as she realizes you’re here, she’ll come; my brothers will come. They’ll eat you, one bite at a time, from the inside out.”

The boy I loved is gone.

I want to close my eyes, but I can’t—he’d use the moment to get away. I brace myself and slam one hand down over his eyes so I don’t have to look at them. Do it. Make it fast; make it quick. I shift my weight forward so I’ll be able to use my whole body to drive the knife in. The skin on his forehead and cheeks feels so cold underneath my hand.

One. Two. My eyes wander across his face, trying to memorize the details—I won’t see him again. Ever again. I’m shaking. I have to do this now before he moves, before he sees that he has the upper hand.

I bring my lips down to Kai’s; they’re so cold they burn mine. Yet behind the fire, they’re familiar. Lips I’ve kissed before. Lips I thought I would spend a lifetime kissing. I want him to wrap him arms around me, holding me tight as if it’s the first time all over again, but of course he doesn’t. So I pretend. Pretend it’s like before, pretend Kai loves me and I love Kai and no matter what either of us becomes or does, where either of us goes, the fact that we love each other will never change. I focus on the fantasy, on Kai’s lips against mine as I inhale, preparing to drive the knife in on the exhale—

Kai shoves me, hard, sending me flying backward. The knife flies from my hands, and I crash to the ground. Find your footing, get up, quick, find the knife. Kai fumbles away from me, and I frantically search the snow. His back hits a tree; he stops, pulls his hands out of the snow, and stares at them, red and aching from the cold. Finally, his eyes find mine, and when he speaks, his voice is a shaky whisper. “Ginny?”