PORT ANGELES
Peter drove faster than the chief, so we made it to Port Angeles by four. He took us to the florist first, where it took him a really long time to figure out what he wanted. The saleswoman made it sound like all the details would be really important to the girls, but I had a hard time believing anyone could care that much.
While Peter debated ribbon colors with the woman, Alice and I sat on a bench by the plate glass windows.
“Hey, Alice…”
She looked up, probably noticing the edge in my voice. “Yeah?”
I tried to sound more like I was just randomly curious, like I didn’t care what the answer was.
“Do the, uh, Blacks miss school a lot—I mean, is that normal for them?”
Alice looked over her shoulder through the window while she answered, and I was sure she was being nice. No doubt she could see how awkward I felt asking, despite how hard I was trying to play it cool.
“Yeah, when the weather’s good they go backpacking all the time— even the doctor. They’re all really into nature or something.”
She didn’t ask one question, or make one snide comment about my obvious and pathetic crush. Alice was probably the nicest kid at Forks High School.
“Oh,” I said, and let it drop.
After what felt like a long time, Peter finally settled on white flowers with a white bow, kind of anticlimactic. But when the order was signed and paid for, we still had extra time before the movie was set to start.
Peter wanted to see if there was anything new at the video game store a few blocks to the east.
“Do you guys mind if I run an errand? I’ll meet you at the theater.”
“Sure.” Peter was already towing Alice up the street.
It was a relief to be alone again. The field trip was backfiring. Sure, Alice’s answer had been encouraging, but I just couldn’t force myself into a good mood. Nothing helped me think about Sirius less. Maybe a really good book.
I headed in the opposite direction from the others, wanting to be by myself. I found a bookstore a couple of blocks south of the florist, but it wasn’t what I was looking for. The windows were full of crystals, dreamcatchers, and books on spiritual healing. I thought about going inside to ask directions to another bookstore, but one look at the fifty-year-old hippie smiling dreamily behind the counter convinced me that I didn’t need to have that conversation. I would find a normal bookstore on my own.
I wandered up another street, and then found myself on an angled byway that confused me. I hoped I was heading toward downtown again, but I wasn’t sure if the road was going to curve back in the direction I wanted or not. I knew I should be paying more attention, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Alice had said, and about Saturday, and what I
was supposed to do if he didn’t come back, and then I looked up and saw someone’s silver Volvo parked along the street—not a sedan, this was an SUV, but still—and suddenly I was mad. Were all vampires this unreliable?
I trudged off in what I thought was a northeasterly direction, heading for some glass-fronted buildings that looked promising, but when I got to them, it was just a vacuum repair shop—closed—and a vacant space. I walked around the corner of the repair shop to see if there were any other stores.
It was a wrong turn—just leading around to a side alley where the dumpsters were. But it wasn’t empty. Staring at the huddled circle of people, I tripped on the curb and staggered forward noisily.
Six faces turned in my direction. There were four men and two women. One of the women and two of the men quickly turned their backs to me, shoving their hands in their pockets, and I had the impression that they were hiding the things they’d been holding. The other woman had dark black hair, and she looked strangely familiar as she glared in my direction. But I didn’t stop to figure out how I knew her. When one of the men had spun around, I’d gotten a quick glimpse of what looked a lot like a gun stuffed into the back of his jeans.
I started walking forward, crossing the mouth of the alley and heading on to the next street, like I hadn’t noticed them there. Just as I was out of view, I heard a voice whisper behind me.
“It’s a cop.”
I glanced behind me, hoping to see someone in uniform, but there was no one else on the empty street. I was farther off the main road than I’d realized. Picking up the pace, I watched the pavement so I wouldn’t trip again.
I found myself on a sidewalk leading past the backs of several gray warehouses, each with large bay doors for unloading trucks, padlocked for the night. The south side of the street had no sidewalk, only a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire protecting some kind of engine parts storage yard. I’d wandered far past the part of Port Angeles that guests were supposed to see. It was getting dark now—the clouds were back and piling up on the western horizon, creating an early sunset. I’d left my jacket in Peter’s car, and a sharp wind made me shove my hands in my pockets. A single van passed me, and then the road was empty.
“Hey, pig,” a woman’s voice called from behind me.
I looked back, and it was the woman I’d seen before, the familiar one. Behind her were two of the men from the alley—a tall bald guy and the shorter man who I thought might be the one who’d had the gun.
“What?” I asked, slowing automatically. She was looking straight at me. “I’m sorry, do you mean me?”
“Sorry?” she repeated. They were still walking toward me, and I backed away, toward the south side of the road. “Is that your favorite word or something?”
“I—I’m… sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She pursed her lips—they were painted a dark, sticky red—and suddenly I knew where I’d seen her before. She was with the guy I’d knocked with my bag when I first arrived in Port Angeles. I looked at the shorter guy, and sure enough, I could see the tops of the tattoos on either side of his neck.
“Aren’t you gonna call for backup, Officer?” he asked.
I had to glance behind myself again. It was just me.
“I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
“Sure we do,” the woman said. “And you didn’t see anything back there, either, did you?”
“See anything? No. No, I didn’t see anything.”
My heel caught on something as I backed away, and I started to wobble. I threw my arms out, trying to balance, and the taller man, the one I’d never seen before, reacted.
He was pointing a handgun at me.
I’d thought it was the shorter guy who’d had the gun. Maybe they all had guns.
“Hey, hey,” I said, holding my hands higher so he could see they were empty. “I’m not a cop. I’m still in high school.” I kept edging away until my back ran into the chain-link fence.
“You think I’m stupid?” the woman asked. “You think your
plainclothes getup fools me? I saw you with your cop partner, Vice.” “What? No, that was my dad,” I said, and my voice broke.
She laughed. “You’re just a baby pig?”
“Sure, okay. So that’s cleared up. I’ll get out of your way now.…” I started sliding along the fence.
“Stop.”
It was the bald man, still pointing the gun. I froze.
“What are you doing?” the short guy said to him. His voice was low, but the street was very quiet, and I could hear him easily.
“I don’t believe him,” the tall one said.
The woman smiled. “How’s that pirate song go? Dead men tell no tales.”
“What?” I croaked. “No, look, that’s—that’s not necessary. I’m not telling any tales. There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. She looked up at the tall man and nodded.
“My wallet’s right here in my pocket,” I offered. “There’s not much in
it, but you’re welcome to it.…” I started to reach for my pocket, but that was the wrong move. The gun jumped up an inch. I put my hand in the air again.
“We need to keep this quiet,” the short one cautioned, and he bent to grab a broken piece of pipe from the gutter. “Put the gun away.”
As soon as the gun was down, I was going to bolt, and the bald guy seemed to know that. He hesitated while the tattooed one started toward me.
Zigzag, that was what my dad had told me once. It was hard to hit a moving target, especially one that wasn’t moving in a straight line. It would help if I weren’t doomed to trip over something.
Just once, let me be sure on my feet.
I could do that once, right?
Just once, when my life depended on it? How much would a nonfatal bullet wound hurt? Would I be able to keep running through the pain? I hoped so.
I tried to unlock my knees. The man with the pipe was only a few paces away from me now.
A shrill squeal froze him in place. We all stared up as the noise turned piercing.
Headlights flew around the corner and then barreled right at me. The car was just inches from hitting the tattooed guy before he jumped out of the way. The chain-link rattled when he rammed into it. I turned to run, but the car unexpectedly fishtailed around, skidding to a stop with the passenger door flying open just a few feet from me.
“Get in,” a furious voice hissed.
I dove into the Volvo’s dark interior, not even questioning how he’d come to be here, relief and a new panic swamping me at the same time.
What if he got hurt? I yanked the door shut behind me while I shouted. “Drive, Sirius, get out of here. He’s got a gun.” But the car didn’t move.
“Keep your head down,” he ordered, and I heard the driver’s side door open.
I reached out blindly toward the sound of his voice, and my hand caught his cold arm. He froze when I touched him. There was no give, though my fingers wrapped tight around the leather of his jacket. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “Drive!”
My eyes were adjusting, and I could just make out his eyes in the reflected glow of the headlights. First they looked at my hand gripping his arm, then they narrowed and glared out the windshield toward where the man and the woman must be watching, evaluating. They could shoot at any second.
“Give me just a minute here, Remus.” I could tell his teeth were clenched together.
I knew he would have no problem breaking free of my grasp, but he seemed to be waiting for me to let him go. That wasn’t going to happen.
“If you go out there, I’m going with you,” I said quietly. “I’m not letting you get shot.”
His eyes glared forward for another half-second, and then his door slammed shut and we were reversing at what felt like about sixty.
“Fine,” he huffed.
The car spun in a tight arc as we raced backward around a corner, and then suddenly we were speeding forward.
“Put on your seat belt,” he told me.
I had to drop his arm to obey, but that was probably a good idea anyway.
The snap as the belt connected was loud in the darkness.
He took a sharp left, then blew through several stop signs without a pause.
But I felt oddly at ease, and totally unconcerned about where we were going. I stared at his face—lit only by the dim dashboard lights—and felt a profound relief that went beyond my lucky escape.
He was here. He was real.
It took me a few minutes of staring at his perfect face to realize more than that. To realize that he looked super, super pissed.
“Are you okay?” I asked, surprised by how hoarse my voice was.
“No,” he snapped.
I waited in silence, watching his face while his eyes glared straight ahead.
The car came to a sudden, screeching stop. I glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything besides the vague outline of dark trees crowding the roadside. We weren’t in town anymore.
“Are you hurt at all, Remus?” he asked, his voice hard.
“No.” My voice was still rough. I tried to clear my throat quietly. “Are you?”
He looked at me then, with a kind of irritated disbelief. “Of course I’m not hurt.”
“Good,” I said. “Um, can I ask why you’re so mad? Did I do something?”
He exhaled in a sudden gust. “Don’t be stupid, Remus.”
“Sorry.”
He gave me another disbelieving look and then shook his head.
“Do you think you would be all right if I left you here in the car for just a few
—”
Before he could finish, I reached out to grab his hand where it rested on the gearshift. He reacted by freezing again; he didn’t pull his hand away.
It was the first time I’d really touched his skin, when it wasn’t accidental and just for a fraction of a second. Though his hand was as cold as I expected, my hand seemed to burn from the contact. His skin was so smooth.
“You’re not going anywhere without me.”
He glared at me, and like before, it was as if he were waiting for me to let go instead of just yanking free like he could easily have done.
After a moment, he closed his eyes.
“Fine,” he said again. “Give me a moment.”
I was okay with that. I kept my hand lightly on his, taking advantage of his closed eyes to stare openly. Slowly, the tension in his face started to relax until it was smooth and blank as a statue. A beautiful statue, carved by an artistic genius.
There was that faint fragrance in the car again—something elusive that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Then his eyes opened, and he looked slowly down at my hand.
“Do you… want me to let go?” I asked.
His voice was careful. “I think that might be for the best.”
“You’re not going anywhere?” I checked.
“I suppose not, if you’re that opposed.”
Unwillingly, I pulled my hand from his. It felt like I’d been holding a handful of ice cubes.
“Better?” I asked.
He took a deep breath. “Not really.”
“What is it, Sirius? What’s wrong?”
He almost smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes.
“This may come as a surprise to you, but I have a little bit of a temper. Sometimes it’s hard for me to forgive easily when someone...offends me.”
“Did I—”
“Stop, Remus,” he said before I could even get the second word fully out. “I’m not talking about you.” he looked up at me with his eyes wide. “Do you realize that they were serious? That they were actually going to kill you?”
“Yeah, I kinda figured they were going to try.”
“It’s completely ridiculous!” It seemed like he was working himself up again. “Who gets murdered in Port Angeles? What is it with you, Remus?
Why does everything deadly come looking for you?”
I blinked. “I… I have no answer for that.”
He tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose. “So I’m not allowed to go teach those thugs a lesson in manners?”
“Um, no. Please?”
He sighed a long, slow sigh, and his eyes closed again.
“How disagreeable.”
We sat in silence for a moment while I tried to think of something to say that would make up for… I guess, disappointing him? That was what it seemed like—that he was disappointed I was asking him not to go looking for multiple armed gangsters who had… offended him by threatening me. It didn’t make much sense—and even less so when you factored in that he had asked me to stay in the car. He was planning to go on foot? We’d driven miles away.
For the first time since I’d seen him tonight, the word James had said popped into my mind.
His eyes opened at the same moment, and I wondered if he’d somehow known what I was thinking. But he just looked at the clock and sighed again.
“Your friends must be worried about you,” he said.
It was past six-thirty. I was sure he was right.
Without another word, he started the engine and spun the car around. Then we were speeding back toward town. We were under the streetlights in no time at all, still going too fast, weaving easily through the cars slowly cruising the boardwalk. He parallel parked against the curb in a space I would have thought much too small for the Volvo, but he slid in with one try. I looked out the window to see the theater’s brightly lit marquee. Peter and Alice were just leaving, pacing away from us.
“How did you know where…?” I started, but then I just shook my head.
“Stop them before I have to track them down, too. I won’t be able to restrain myself if I run into your other friends again.”
It was strange how his silky voice could sound so… menacing.
I jumped out of the car but kept my hand on the frame. Like before, holding him here.
“Peter! Alice!” I shouted.
They weren’t very far away. They both turned, and I waved my free arm over my head. They rushed back, the relief on both their faces turning to surprise when they took in the car I was standing next to. Alice stared into the recesses of the car, and then her eyes popped wide in recognition.
“What happened to you?” Peter demanded. “We thought you took off.”
“No, I just got lost. And then I ran into Sirius.”
He leaned forward and smiled through the windshield. Now Peter’s eyes bugged out.
“Oh, hi… Sirius,” Alice said.
He waved at her with two fingers, and she swallowed loudly.
“Uh, hey,” Peter said in his direction; then he stared at me—I must have looked odd, my one hand locked on the frame of the open door, but I wasn’t letting go.
“So… the movie’s already started, I think.”
“Sorry about that,” I said.
He checked his watch. “It’s probably still just running previews. Did you…” He eyed my hand on the car. “… still want to come?” I hesitated, glancing at Sirius.
“Would you like to come… Sirius?” Alice asked politely, though she had a little trouble getting his name out.
Sirius opened his door and stepped out, shaking his hair back from his face. He leaned on the frame and threw a smile at them.
“I’ve already seen this one, but thank you, Alice.” she said.
Alice blinked and seemed to forget how to speak. It made me feel a little better for always being so stupid around him. Who could help it?
Sirius glanced over at me.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to see this movie now?” he murmured.
Negative five thousand, I thought.
“Er, not that much,” I whispered back. He smiled directly at Peter now.
“Will it ruin your night if I make Remus go to dinner with me?” he asked.
Peter just shook his head.
“Thanks,” he told him, smiling again. “I’ll give Remus a ride home.” he slid back inside.
“Get in the car,” he said.
Alice and Peter stared. I shrugged quickly and then ducked into the passenger seat.
“The hell?” I heard Peter breathe as I slammed my door.
I didn’t get another look at their reactions. He was already racing away.
“Did you really want dinner?” I asked him.
He looked at me questioningly. Was he thinking what I was thinking —that I’d never actually seen him eat anything?
“I thought you might,” he finally said.
“I’m good,” I told him.
“If you’d rather go home…”
“No, no,” I said too quickly. “I can do dinner. I just mean it doesn’t have to be that. Whatever you’d like.”
He smiled and stopped the car. We were parked right in front of an Italian place.
My palms started to sweat a little as I got out of the car. I’d never really been on a date like this—a real date date. I’d gotten roped into some group things back in Phoenix, but I could honestly say that I hadn’t cared one way or another if I ever saw any of those guys again. This was different. I nearly had a panic attack anytime I thought this boy might disappear.
The restaurant wasn’t crowded—this was the off-season in Port Angeles. The host was female, a few years older than us, unnaturally blonde. Her eyes did that same thing that Alice’s and Peter’s had, bugging out for a second before she got control of her expression.
I was pretty sure she didn’t even know I was standing there next to him. I wasn't a pretty girl, so I wasn't a problem in her head.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, still looking only at him.
“A table for two, please.”
For the first time, she seemed to realize I was there. The look she gave me was quick and dismissive. Her eyes shifted back to him immediately, not that I could blame her for that.
“Of course." She grabbed two leather folders and gestured for Sirius to follow. I rolled my eyes.
She led us to a four-top in the middle of the most crowded part of the dining room. I reached for a chair, but Sirius shook his head at me.
“Perhaps something more private?” he said quietly to the host. It looked like he brushed the top of her hand with his fingers, which I already knew was unlike him—he didn’t touch people if he could help it —but then I saw her slide that hand to a pocket inside her suit coat, and I realized that he must have given her a tip. I’d never seen anyone refuse a table like that except in old movies.
“Of course,” the host said, sounding as surprised as I was. She led us around a partition to a small ring of booths, all of them empty.
“How is this?”
“Perfect,” he said, and unleashed his smile on her.
Like a deer in headlights, the host froze for a long second, and then she slowly turned and staggered back toward the main floor, our menus still in the crook of her arm.
Sirius slid into one side of the closest booth, sitting close to the edge
so that my only option was to sit facing him with the length of the table between us. After a second of hesitation, I sat, too.
Something thudded a couple of times on the other side of the partition, like the sound of someone tripping over his own feet and then recovering.
It was a sound I was familiar with.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
He stared at me, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Whatever that thing you do is—with the smile and the hypnotizing or whatever. That woman could hurt herself trying to get back to the door.”
He half-smiled. “I do a thing?”
“Like you don’t know the effect you have on people.”
“I suppose I can think of a few effects.…” His expression went dark for a tiny second, but then it cleared and he smiled. “But no one’s ever accused me of hypnotism before.”
“Do you think other people get their way so easily?”
He tilted his head to the side, ignoring my question. “Does it work on you—this thing you think I do?”
I sighed. “Every time.”
And then our server arrived with an expectant expression, which quickly shifted to awe. Whatever the host had told her, it had been an understatement.
“Hello,” she said, surprise making her voice monotone as she mechanically recited her lines. “My name is Sarah, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I get you to drink?”
Like the host’s, her eyes never strayed from his face.
“Remus?” he prompted.
“Um, a Coke?”
I might as well not have spoken at all. The waiter just kept staring at Sirius. He flashed a grin at me before turning to her.
“Two Cokes,” he told her, and, almost like an experiment, he smiled a wide, dimpled smile right into his face.
She actually wobbled, like she was going to keel over.
He pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. The waiter shook her head and blinked, trying to reorient. I watched sympathetically. I knew just how she felt.
“And a menu?” he added when she didn’t move.
“Yes, of course, I’ll be right back with that.” she was still shaking her head as she walked out of sight.
“You’ve seriously never noticed that before?” I asked him.
“It’s been a while since I cared what anyone thought about me,” he said. “And I don’t usually smile so much.”
“Probably safer that way—for everyone.”
“Everyone but you. Shall we talk about what happened tonight?”
“Huh?”
“Your near-death experience? Or did you already forget?”
“Oh.” Actually, I had.
He frowned. “How do you feel?”
“What do you mean?” I hoped he didn’t turn on the hypnotist eyes and make me tell the truth, because what I felt right now was… euphoria. He was right here, with me—on purpose—I’d gotten to touch his hand, and I probably had a few hours ahead to spend with him, too, since he’d promised to drive me home. I’d never felt so happy and so off-balance at the same time.
“Are you cold, dizzy, sick…?”
The way he listed the words reminded me of a doctor’s exam. And I didn’t feel cold or sick… or dizzy in a medical way.
“Should I?”
He laughed. “I’m wondering if you’re going to go into shock,” he admitted. “I’ve seen it happen with less provocation.”
“Oh. No, I think I’m fine, thanks.” Honestly, almost being murdered was not the most interesting thing that had happened to me tonight, and I hadn’t really thought much about it.
“Just the same, I’ll feel better when you have some food in you.”
On cue, the waiter appeared with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. She stood with her back to me while she placed them on the table, then handed Sirius a menu.
Done with his experiments, he didn’t so much as look at her this time. He just pushed the menu across the table to me.
She cleared her throat nervously. “There are a few specials. Um, we have a mushroom ravioli and—”
“Sounds great,” I interrupted; I didn’t care what I got—food was the last thing on my mind. “I’ll have that.” I spoke a little louder than necessary, but I wasn’t sure she really knew I was sitting here.
She finally threw a surprised glance my way, and then her attention was back to him.
“And for you…?”
“That’s all we need. Thank you.” Of course.
She waited for a second, hoping for another smile, I thought. A glutton for punishment. When Sirius kept his eyes on me, she gave up and walked away.
“Drink,” Sirius said. It sounded like an order.
I took a sip obediently, then another bigger gulp, surprised to find that I was actually pretty thirsty. I’d sucked down the entire glass before I knew it, and he slid his glass toward me.
“No, I’m fine,” I told him.
“I’m not going to drink it,” he said, and his tone added the duh.
“Right,” I said and, because I was still thirsty, I downed his, too.
“Thanks,” I muttered, while the word I didn’t want to think swirled around my head again. The cold from the soda was radiating through my chest, and I had to shake off a shiver.
“You’re cold?” he asked, serious now. Like a doctor again.
“It’s just the Coke,” I explained, fighting another shiver.
“Don’t you have a jacket?”
“Yeah.” Automatically, I patted the empty seat next to me. “Oh—I left it in Peter’s car,” I realized.
I shrugged, and then shivered.
Sirius was shrugging out of his leather jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never once noticed what he was wearing — not just tonight, but ever. I just couldn't seem to look away from his face. I made myself look now, focusing. Underneath the jacket he wore an ivory turtleneck sweater. It fit him snugly, emphasizing how muscular his chest was.
He handed me the jacket, interrupting my ogling.
"Thanks," I said again, sliding my arms into his jacket. It was cold — the way my jacket felt when I first picked it up in the morning, hanging in the drafty hallway. I shivered again. It smelled amazing. I inhaled, trying to identify the delicious scent. It didn't smell like cologne. The sleeves too short for me but I didn't care.
"You look good." he said, watching me. I was surprised; I looked down,
flushing, of course..
He pushed the bread basket toward me
“I’m not going into shock,” I told him.
“Humor me?” he said, and then he did the thing with the smile and the eyes that always won.
“Ugh,” I grumbled as I grabbed a breadstick.
“Good boy,” he laughed.
I just gave him a dark look as I chewed.
“I don’t know how you can be so blasé about this,” he said. “You don’t even look shaken. A normal person—” he shook his head. “But then you’re not so normal, are you?”
I shook my head and swallowed.
“I’m the most normal person I know.”
“Everyone thinks that about themselves.”
“Do you think that about yourself?” I challenged.
He pursed his lips.
“Right,” I said. “Do you ever consider answering any of my questions, or is that not even on the table?”
“It depends on the question.”
“So tell me one I’m allowed to ask.”
He was still thinking about that when the waiter came around the partition with my food. I realized we’d been unconsciously leaning toward each other across the table, because we both straightened up as she approached. She set the dish in front of me—it looked pretty good—and turned quickly to Sirius.
“Did you change your mind?” she asked. “Isn’t there anything I can get you?” I didn’t think I was imagining the double meaning in her offer.
“Some more soda would be nice,” he said, gesturing to the empty glasses without looking away from me.
The waiter stared at me now, and I could tell she was wondering why someone like Sirius would be looking at someone like me that way. Well, it was a mystery to me, too.
She grabbed the glasses and stalked off.
“I imagine you have a lot of questions for me,” Sirius murmured.
“Just a couple thousand,” I said.
“I’m sure.… Can I ask you one first? Is that unfair?”
Did that mean he was going to answer mine? I nodded eagerly. “What do you want to know?”
He stared down at the table now, his eyes hidden under his black lashes. His hair fell forward, shielding more of his face.
The words weren’t much more than a whisper. “We spoke before, about how you were… trying to figure out what I am. I was just wondering if you’d made any more progress with that.”
I didn’t answer, and finally he looked up.
What could I say? Had I made progress? Or just stumbled into another theory even more stupid than radioactive spiders? How could I say that word out loud, the one I’d been trying not to think all night?
I don’t know what my face must have looked like, but his expression suddenly softened.
“It’s that bad, then?” he asked.
“Can I—can we not talk about it here?” I glanced at the thin partition that separated us from the rest of the restaurant.
“Very bad,” he murmured, half to herself. There was something very sad and… almost old about his eyes. Tired, defeated. It hurt me in a strange way to see him unhappy.
“Well,” I said, trying to make my voice lighter. “Actually, if I answer your question first, I know you won’t answer mine. You never do. So… you first.”
His face relaxed. “An exchange, then?”
“Yes.”
The waiter returned with the Cokes. She set them on the table without a word this time and disappeared. I wondered if she could feel the tension as strongly as I could.
“I suppose we can try that,” Sirius murmured. “But no promises.”
“Okay.…” I started with the easy one. “So what brings you to Port Angeles tonight?”
He looked down, folding his hands carefully on the empty table in front of him. He glanced up at me from under the thick lashes, and there was a hint of a smile on his face.
“Next,” he said.
“But that’s the easiest one!”
He shrugged. “Next?”
I looked down, frustrated. I unrolled my silverware, picked up my fork, and carefully speared a ravioli. I put it in my mouth slowly, still looking down, chewing while I thought. The mushrooms were good. I swallowed and took a sip of Coke before I looked up.
“Fine, then.” I glared at him, and continued slowly. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that… someone… could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know—with just a few exceptions.” It sounded so stupid.
There was no way, if he wouldn’t comment on the first one…
But then he looked at me calmly and said, “Just one exception.
Hypothetically.” Well, damn.
It took me a minute to recover. He waited patiently.
“Okay.” I worked to sound casual. “Just one exception, then. How would something like that work? What are the limitations? How would… that someone… find someone else at exactly the right time? How would she even know I was in trouble?” My convoluted questions weren’t making any sense by the end.
“Hypothetically?” he asked.
“Right.”
“Well, if… that someone—”
“Call her Jane,” I suggested.
He smiled wryly. “If your Hypothetical Jane had been paying better attention, the timing wouldn’t have needed to be quite so exact.” he rolled his eyes. “I’m still not over how this could happen at all. How does anyone get into so much trouble, so consistently, and in such unlikely places? You would have devastated Port Angeles’s crime rate statistics for a decade, you know.”
“I don’t see how this is my fault.”
He stared at me, that familiar frustration in his eyes. “I don’t, either. But I don’t know who to blame.”
“How did you know?”
He locked eyes with me, torn, and I guessed he was wrestling against the desire to just tell me the truth.
“You can trust me, you know,” I whispered. I reached forward slowly, to put my hand on top of his, but he slid them back an inch, so I let my hand fall empty to the table.
“It’s what I want to do,” he admitted, his voice even quieter than mine. “But that doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“Please?” I asked.
He hesitated one more second, and then it came out in a rush.
“I followed you to Port Angeles. I’ve never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it’s much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that’s probably just because it’s you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes. I was wrong before, when I said you were a magnet for accidents. That’s not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you.”
It didn’t bother me at all that he was following me; instead I felt a strange surge of pleasure. He was here for me. He stared, waiting for me to react.
I thought about what he’d said—tonight, and before.… Do you think I could be scary?
“You put yourself into that category, don’t you?” I guessed.
His face turned hard, expressionless. “Unequivocally.”
I stretched across the table again, ignoring him when he pulled back slightly once more, and laid my hand on top of his. He kept them very still. It made them feel like stone—cold, hard, and now motionless. I thought of the statue again.
“That’s twice now,” I said. “Thank you.”
He just stared at me, his mouth twitching into a frown.
I tried to ease the tension, make a joke. “I mean, did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the van, and you’re messing with fate? Like those Final Destination movies?” My joke fell flat. His frown deepened.
“Sirius?”
He angled his face down again, his hair falling across his cheeks, and I could barely hear his answer.
“That wasn’t the first time,” he said. “Your number was up the first day I met you. It’s not twice you’ve almost died, it’s three times. The first time I saved you… it was from myself.”
As clearly as if I were back in my first Biology class, I could see Sirius' murderous black glare. I heard again the phrase that had run through my head in that moment: If looks could kill…
“You remember?” he asked. He stared at me now, his perfect face very serious. “You understand?”
“Yes.”
He waited for more, for another reaction. When I didn’t say anything, his eyebrows pulled together.
“You can leave, you know,” he told me. “Your friends are still at the movie.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
He was suddenly irritated. “How can you say that?”
I patted his hands, totally calm. This was something I had already decided. It didn’t matter to me if he was… something dangerous. But he mattered. Where he was, was where I wanted to be.
“You didn’t finish answering my question,” I reminded him, ignoring the anger. “How did you find me?”
He glared at me for a moment, like he was willing me to be angry, too. When that didn’t work, he shook his head and huffed a sigh.
“I was keeping tabs on Peter's thoughts,” he said, like it was the most normal thing. “Not carefully—like I said, it’s not just anybody who could get themselves murdered in Port Angeles. At first I didn’t notice when you set off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren’t with him anymore, I drove around looking for someone who had seen you. I found the bookstore you walked to, but I could tell that you hadn’t gone inside. You’d gone south, and I knew you’d have to turn around soon. So I was just waiting for you, randomly searching through the thoughts of everyone I could hear—to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried… but I started to feel anxious.…” he was lost in thought now, staring past me. “I started to drive in circles, still… listening. The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then—” he stopped suddenly, his teeth clenching together with an audible snap.
“Then what?”
He refocused on my face. “I heard what she was thinking. I saw your face in her head, and I knew what she was planning to do.”
“But you got there in time.”
He inclined his head slightly. “It was harder than you know for me to drive away, to just let them get away with that. It was the right thing, I know it was, but still… very difficult.”
I tried not to picture what he would have done if I hadn’t made him drive away. I didn’t want to let my imagination run wild down that particular path.
“That’s one reason I made you go to dinner with me,” he admitted. “I could have let you go to the movie with Peter and Alice, but I was afraid that if I wasn’t with you, I would go looking for those people.”
My hand still rested on top of his. My fingers were starting to feel numb, but I didn’t care. If he didn’t object, I’d never move again. He kept watching me, waiting for a reaction that wasn’t going to come.
I knew he was trying to warn me off with all this honesty, but he was wasting the effort.
He took a deep breath. “Are you going to eat anything else?” he asked.
I blinked at my food. “No, I’m good.”
“Do you want to go home now?”
I paused. “I’m not in any hurry.” he frowned like my answer bothered him.
“Can I have my hands back now?” he asked.
I snatched my hand away. “Sure. Sorry.”
He shot me a glance while he pulled something from his pocket.
“Is it possible to go fifteen minutes without an unnecessary apology?”
If it was unnecessary for me to apologize for touching him, did that mean he liked it? Or just wasn’t actually offended by it?
“Um, probably not,” I admitted.
He laughed once, and then the waiter showed up.
“How are you do—” she started to ask.
He cut her off. “We’re finished, thank you very much, that ought to cover it, no change, thanks.”
He was already out of his seat.
I fumbled for my wallet. “Um, let me—you didn’t even get anything —”
“My treat, Remus.”
“But—”
He walked away, and I rushed to follow, leaving the stunned waiter behind me with what looked like a hundred-dollar bill on the table in front of her.
When we got to the car, the door opened easily—he’d never locked it. His expression was more amused than anything at this point, so I took that as a good sign.
I almost ran to the passenger side of the car, trailing my hand across the hood as I moved. I had the nerve-wracking feeling that he was regretting telling me so much, and he might just drive off without me and disappear into the night. Once I was inside, he looked pointedly at my seat belt until I put it on again. I wondered for a second if he was some kind of safety-first absolutist—until I noticed that he hadn’t bothered with his, and we were racing off into the light traffic without a hint of caution on his part.
“Now,” he said with a grim smile, “it’s your turn.”