But the world is caged now. Fences along roads, every acre assigned. Every tree has an owner, and the wild places are shrinking.
Impulsively I run down the slope into the ditch beside the road, then up the bank to the wire fence bordering the meadow. I’ll climb over it and get into that grass. I’m going to run through it and feel the cold breeze slamming against my cheeks, diving deep into my lungs. There’s a tattered moon coming into view overhead, and I want to dance beneath it.
I’m reaching for the wire when light slices the darkness of theroad, two beams like pale arrows.
A pickup truck roars past, then slows. Its engine noise fades to a growl, then cuts off as it pulls over.
I hesitate, torn between the impulse to go back to the road like a normal person and resume my walk, or to clamber over the fence and run into the wilderness like a startled deer.
A big, masculine silhouette saunters around the truck. I recognize that walk, the outline of those shoulders.
“Cathy, what the fuck are you doing?” demands Heathcliff.
I vent a hysterical giggle because I asked him that very question not one hour ago. “Are you following me?”
A pause. “Yes.”
The admission releases a bit of tension inside me. I’m not imagining it. He likes me. More than likes me. He might be a tad obsessed, and why is that so hot?
“Get in the truck, Cathy.”
When I don’t answer, he crosses his arms. “Don’t make me come down there. Get your ass in the trucknow. I’m taking you home.”
Home.My memory conjures images of Dad’s purple, snarling face, his meaty hand crashing against my cheek, his fingers forcing my mouth open, sliding a butcher knife between my teeth. “I don’t want to go home.”
“Fine. Where do you want to go?”
The words leap out before I can make sense of them. “To Pastor Linton’s house.”
“Why? So you can make up with your milk-sop date and jump on his limp dick?”
“No.” I traverse the ditch and pass Heathcliff, yanking open the passenger door of his truck. “So I can spy on them.”
8
Heathcliff
Of all the things I planned to do tonight, slinking through the trees at the edge of the Lintons’ property wasn’t one of them. Meeting with a guy about a private business venture I’m starting—sure. Fucking Cathy Earnshaw—if I was lucky enough. Butthis? I got enough shit to deal with. Don’t need to add trespassing to the list.
But Cathy seems determined to sneak up to the house. She takes off, out of the trees, running half-bent across the lawn until she’s right under the bright rectangle of an open window. Swearing under my breath, I follow her, pressing myself against the siding as well. A few bugs dance over our heads, drawn to the light and warmth, bouncing off the screen. I swat one away and curse. Cathy clamps small fingers over my mouth and I go still, my dick instantly hard.
Does she know what she does to me? I’m furious, raging with lust, but at a word from her, I’d go boneless in a second, just melt into a sacrificial puddle right here at her feet.
Voices drift through the window, growing clearer. A fridge opens.
“I scared her off. I’m not sure she’ll give me another chance.”That’s young Linton. Edgar.
“Is she going to that picnic thing this weekend, on the Fitzpatricks’ beach?” That’s his dad, the pastor.
“I don’t know.”
“Text her tomorrow. Apologize for prying and ask her to come on Saturday. We need to understand what’s going on. She might be a threat…or she might be able to help.”
Cathy’s fingers loosen over my mouth. Don’t tell me she’s buying into this whole “helpful pastor” act. I’ve seen plenty of holier-than-thou do-gooders in my day. Narcissists, most of ’em, addicted to the hit of self-righteousness they get when they think they’re “fixing” someone. They’d never admit it, but they get off on being the leader, the master, the one who’sbetter, who’s got it together, while the rest of us are red clay to be lifted out of the ground and formed into something useful, into neat red bricks with which they can build their stairway to heaven.
“Those people who came to Aunt Nellie’s—any idea what they were?” Edgar asks.
His dad sighs loudly. “One of them has some kind of voice power. The others—I’m not sure, except the brown-haired guy is faster than he should be. The way he moves isn’t natural. And did you see his teeth? Like fangs. The girl with the voice had them, too. Abhartach, maybe…vampires.”
