Jackson’s voice was so soft I could barely hear him over the music.
‘All the time,’ I said, a quiet admission. ‘I wonder who I’d be if we’d stayed.’
‘You would still be entirely you,’ he said with absolute certainty. ‘Only you’d be dropping those y’alls more often, I reckon.’
‘And my biscuits might be better. And we would’ve grown up together.’
‘Our folks would’ve spent every holiday together,’ he said, adding colour to my loosely sketched fantasy. ‘You and I learned to ride our bikes together in Forsyth Park, ran around the neighbourhood trick-or-treating every Halloween, spent every Fourth of July at the beach watching the fireworks.’
‘I was going to say I’d have kept Lydia out of trouble, but more likely she’d have gotten me into it.’
His chin nudged the top of my head when he nodded in agreement.
‘And my mom and dad would still be alive,’ I added. ‘Ashley would have been free to do as she pleased and Catherine would never have gone off the deep end. We’d all be one big happy family.’
Jackson’s fingers tightened around mine.
‘Only one complication, I guess,’ he said. ‘If trouble never came to town, neither would Wyn.’
There was another version of my life, even if I didn’t want to admit it. One where I grew up with a crush on the boy down the street, where he was my first kiss and my first love, and we strolled through the halls of our high school, holding hands, his letterman jacket around my shoulders. It would be easy to fall in love with Jackson.
If I hadn’t already met Wyn.
‘We would’ve found each other another way,’ I said. ‘He used to come here when he was younger, with his grandfather. I think all four of us would’ve met somehow, you, me, Lydia and Wyn. I think we were all meant to be friends.’
Jackson didn’t reply, just carried on dancing, holding me close, and I was suddenly too aware of his body, the hint of cologne on his skin, a dime-sized birthmark behind his ear I’d never noticed before. It was only a couple of shades darker than his skin and almost a perfect circle. My eyelashes grazed his cheek and I heard a sharp intake of breath pass through his lips.
‘You’re probably right,’ he said, pushing me away, only very slightly but enough to put clear space between our bodies. ‘But, as your friend, I wish he was here with you now, when you need him. You deserve to be with someone who can be withyou all the time, the kind of person who yells about you from the rooftops.’
And doesn’t have to live with the guilt of lying to his family because the girl he loves killed his only brother.
‘It’s complicated,’ I said, for what felt like the millionth time, before looking up to meet Jackson’s eyes, deep, dark brown with flecks of gold.
‘It doesn’t have to be,’ he replied.
I hadn’t realized we’d stopped dancing until a couple bumped into my shoulder, mumbling their apologies before shuffling around us.
‘It’s getting kind of late and I’m pretty tired.’ I raised my wrist without actually looking at my watch, an obvious excuse. ‘I think I’m going to head on out. But you should stay.’
‘Not an option,’ Jackson said. ‘A gentleman always sees his date to the door. Anyway, you can’t walk home in this weather. It’s raining cats and dogs out there.’
‘It is?’ I replied, turning to look back out onto the terrace.
It was. Not the kind of quick shower to cut through the humidity and freshen the night, but an out-and-out downpour, dark skies filled with heavy clouds, thunder and lightning surely close behind. And then I felt it. Standing still in the room full of swaying couples, a shudder struck against my senses, the ground trembling under my feet. The magic I’d felt earlier had returned, ten times stronger than it was before, and streaked with malicious intent. It knew I was here and it did not care. This time I could not promise we were safe.
‘My jacket is over here somewhere,’ Jackson said, leading me away from the dance floor, his back to the look of terror on my face. ‘Those guys downstairs are assholes about releasing your car without the valet ticket, even though I have known pretty much every one of them for my whole entire life and—’
‘Jackson, don’t move.’
He turned to face me, confusion shifting swiftly into fear when he saw the expression on my face and, as though he couldn’t stop himself, he looked over his shoulder to see what I was staring at. Behind my friend, just beyond the open glass doors, an enormous grey wolf leapt from the street and up onto the terrace in one graceful bound, a cacophony of car horns heralding its arrival, accompanied by screaming pedestrians and barking dogs. It paused to shake off the rain, silver droplets flying from its fur like liquid mercury, before it turned towards the open glass doors of the DeSoto Hotel ballroom, its ravenous eyes set on me.
Chapter Eight
‘Do not cross that line.’
Words I’d heard Catherine say, spilling forth from my lips.
The wolf, the Were, looked unmoved by my threat. It paced back and forth as the rain thrashed down, a live action blur between us. Behind me, in the hotel ballroom, there was only screaming. Half the party ran for the doors, the other half were locked in place, too afraid to move a muscle.
