“No kidding,” my father said, darting his eyes to my shoulder.Because he can’t look at me.
The sudden knowledge hit me like a key turning in a lock.
It took everything I had not to step into him and force him to back down. But I didn’t want to touch him—or risk letting the anger push me into doing something I might regret.
He cleared his throat. “Get dressed. Dean Welch was attacked by some kind of wild animal on the trails behind campus last night. Your mother doesn’t want you walking to school.” He turned and headed for the top of the stairs.
Shock rippled through me. Because since when did my mom care about me being torn apart by animals? As my father walked away, panic kicked in. I couldn’t show up at school. Not after last night. And the police knew about Aiden Cross. At least, I thought they did. Either way, I needed to keep my distance from Hale Valley.
“Wait,” I called.
My dad swung back, an irritated look on his face.
“I’m not feeling well.” I swallowed my pride and pumped as much compliance into my voice as I could. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stay home today.”
He’d clearly never attended a summer-long retreat, because he did a poor job of concealing his delight as he shook his head. “You’ve already missed too many classes this semester. You’ve got eight minutes now. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Forty-five minutes later,I kept my head down as I navigated the crowded hallways of the business administration building. I felt strangely naked without my backpack, which I assumed I’d dropped somewhere between downtown and the forest when I thought I was being chased by demons. Like my phone, it was probably long gone. Fortunately, my father hadn’t mentioned either item during the tense drive to school. Then again, he hadn’t said anything at all. So, yay for me or whatever.
Conversations buzzed in my ears as I made my way to the lecture hall. Everyone was talking about Welch and the “animalattack.” According to snippets I caught here and there, the police had shut down all the trails, and now animal control was combing the forest, looking for coyotes or feral dogs. My stomach cramped at the possibility of the cops or the animal control people stumbling upon my phone. As much as I wanted it back, I didn’t need my dad asking questions about why I’d lost it in the woods.
Then again, if Aiden Cross hadn’t reported the fight by now, he’d probably decided to drop it. Maybe Coach Gannon hadn’t spoken to the police about me, after all, and their presence on campus yesterday was just a coincidence. I hadn’t seen any officers on my way into the building. I hadn’t seen Cross, either, and I wanted to keep it that way.
But I’d see Nathan Brooks in public finance.
I stopped so abruptly that someone slammed into my back.
“Hey!” a girl exclaimed, shooting me a disgruntled look as she stepped around me.
“Sorry,” I muttered. She didn’t acknowledge my apology as she disappeared inside the lecture hall. As the double doors swung shut behind her, I ducked into an alcove. If anyone had information about Cross, it was Nathan. They spent a lot of time together. Nathan could probably tell me if Cross had ratted me out to Coach Gannon or the cops.
On the other hand, Nathan could also demand an explanation for the attack. Or worse, he might stand up and tell everyone in the room I was a lunatic who jumped guys in the forest.
No, I couldn’t show my face in that lecture. My parents were both at work by now. The safest bet was to go home, lay low, and see how the weekend unfolded. If the police didn’t come knocking by Monday, I could return to normal life.
That plan didn’t solve the problem of Jesse van der Meer, though.
My pulse kicked higher, and I pressed my back against the wall as the events of the night before paraded through my head. Seriously, fuck that guy. That was serial killer shit, kidnapping me and pretending to be a werewolf. But the way he’d transformed his hand had looked so real. And I hadn’t imagined the pressure in my chest when he ordered me around. I probably wasn’t his first victim. Clearly, he was insane. Or maybe he was a hypnotist. Somewhere in my mind, a third possibility fluttered, begging for attention.
I ignored it as I pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs. The crowd thinned as I passed, stragglers slipping into classrooms on either side of the hallway. Two guys near a water fountain spoke under their breath, but their words were clear as a bell in my ears.
“I heard they have to take skin from his ass and graft it to his leg,” the taller one said.
My gut clenched, and I slowed as the shorter guy let out a low whistle.
“Damn, that’s rough. Do you think they’ll have one of the other deans fill in for him? I need someone to approve my internship.”
I hunched my shoulders as I passed them. That was the way life went. Doctors grafted your ass to your leg, and all anyone could think about was the work you were missing.
The hallway cleared as I neared the stairwell directly across from Dean Welch’s office. I walked faster, my hand twitching for a backpack strap that wasn’t there to grasp. Welch’s office was dark, the door shut. His secretary must have taken the day off, too. Or maybe she was sitting at his bedside in the hospital, taking dictation of the attack so Welch could turn me into the cops.
But he couldn’t have seen me. Didn’t the brain protect itself during trauma? I had no memory of being attacked on thejogging trail. Hopefully, Welch wouldn’t remember anything, either.
Laughter rang out, jerking me from my thoughts—and making me abruptly aware that I stood an inch from Welch’s office door with my heart tap dancing in my chest. I spun around in time to see a group of students exiting a classroom at the other end of the hall. They were too far away to notice me, and I let my shoulders slump as I drew a steadying breath.
The hint of a breeze was my only warning.
A hand clamped on my shoulder before I’d even registered the door opening behind me. As I drew breath to shout, another hand clamped hard over my mouth. Strong arms dragged me backward into the office. I kicked, aiming for the open door.
