The corner of Zander’s mouth twitched up into a smile.
“You’re so funny, Bonnie,” he said. “You just say whatever pops into your head. That’s one of the reasons why I love you.” Bonnie’s heart leaped into her throat, and she felt her cheeks flush. Zander loved her?
Zander got serious again. “I mean it,” he said. “I know it’s real y early, and you don’t have to feel like you need to say something back, but I wanted you to know that I’m fal ing in love with you. You’re amazing. I’ve never felt like this before. Never.”
Tears of happy surprise sprang into Bonnie’s eyes, and she sniffed, squeezing Zander’s hands tightly. “I feel it, too,” she said in a tiny voice. “These last few weeks have been amazing. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun as I do with you. We get each other, you know?” They kissed, a long, slow, sweet kiss. Bonnie leaned against Zander and sighed contentedly. She’d never been so comfortable. Then Zander pul ed away.
Bonnie reached out for him, but Zander took her hands again and gazed into her eyes. “It’s because I’m fal ing in love with you,” he said slowly, “that I have to tel you something. You have the right to know.” He squeezed his eyes closed tightly for a moment, then opened them again, looking at Bonnie as if he wanted to climb into her head and find out how she was going to react to what he said next. “I’m a werewolf,” he said flatly.
Bonnie sat frozen for a minute, her mind scrambling to understand. Then she shrieked and pul ed her hands away from him, jumping to her feet. “Oh no,” she gasped. “Oh my God.” Images were rushing through her mind: Tyler Smal wood’s face twisting, grotesquely lengthening into a muzzle, his newly yel ow and slit-pupiled eyes glaring at her with vicious, bloodthirsty hatred. Meredith crumpled on her bed like an abandoned dol , blank-eyed as she told them how Samantha’s body had been mauled. The flash of white-blond hair Meredith had seen when she chased a dark-clad figure away from a screaming girl. The black bruises on Zander’s side.
“Meredith and Elena were right,” she said, backing away from him.
“No! No, it’s not like that, Bonnie, please,” Zander said, scrambling to his feet so that they stood facing each other.
His face was white and strained. “I’m a good werewolf, I swear, I don’t … we don’t hurt people.”
“Liar!” Bonnie shouted, furious. “I’ve known werewolves, Zander. To become one, you have to be a killer!” With that, she was off, scrambling down the fire escape to the relative safety of the ground. Don’t look back, don’t look back, hammered inside her head. Get away, get away.
“Bonnie!” Zander cal ed from the top of the fire escape, and she heard him clattering down after her.
Bonnie jumped the last few feet from the bottom of the fire escape and landed hard, stumbling. She straightened up and started to run immediately. She had to get inside, had to find somewhere she wouldn’t be alone.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed movement in the shadows of the building. Jared and Tristan and, oh no, big muscular Marcus. Werewolves, she realized, just like Zander, part of his pack. Bonnie thought she was moving as quickly as she could, but, as they came into the light, she found a fresh spurt of speed.
“Bonnie!” Jared cal ed hoarsely, and they came after her.
She was running faster than she ever had, breathless sobs torn from her chest, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough.
They were close behind her; she could hear their heavy footsteps catching up to her.
“We just want to talk to you, Bonnie,” Tristan cal ed, his voice level and calm. He didn’t even sound out of breath.
“Stop,” Marcus said. “Wait for us,” and oh God, he was coming up beside her now, and Tristan on her other side, cutting her off. They were moving in closer, penning her in.
Bonnie stopped, her hands on her knees, panting for breath. Hot tears ran down her face and dripped off her chin. They had caught her. She had run and run, as fast as she could, but she hadn’t been able to get away. The three guys were pacing around her, hemming her in, their faces wary.
They’d pretended to be her friends, but now they looked like hunters, circling her. They’d lied, al of them.
“Monsters,” she muttered like a curse, and pul ed herself upright, stil panting. They had caught her, but they hadn’t defeated her yet. She was a witch, wasn’t she? She clenched her hands into fists and began to chant under her breath the charms Mrs. Flowers taught her for protection and defense. She didn’t think she could beat three werewolves, not without the time to make a magic circle, without any supplies, but maybe she could hurt them.
“Guys, wait. Stop.” Zander was coming now, running across the col ege lawns toward them. Even through the hot tears clouding her vision, Bonnie could see how beautiful he was, how graceful and natural a runner, his long legs eating up the distance, and her heart ached just a little more. She had loved him so much. She went on chanting, feeling the power building up inside her like the pressure in a shaken can of soda, ready to pop.
Zander came to a halt when he reached them, clasping Marcus’s shoulder with one hand. The other three looked at him.
“She ran away from us,” Tristan said, and he sounded baffled and resentful.
“Yeah,” Zander said. “I know.” Tears were running down Zander’s face, too, Bonnie realized, and he was making no move to wipe them away. He just looked at her, those beautiful blue eyes wide open, heartbreakingly sad. “Back off, guys,” he said without looking away from Bonnie. To her, then, he added, “You do what you have to do.” Bonnie stopped chanting, letting the built-up power drain away. She took a harsh gasp of air, and then, quick as an arrow, her heart pounding as if it would burst out of her chest, she ran.
35
Initiation night for the newest members of the Vitale Society had arrived at last. The cavernous room was lit only by golden candlelight from long tapers placed around the space and by the fire of high-flaming torches against the wal s. In the flickering light, the animals carved in the wood of the pil ars and arches almost seemed to be moving.
Matt, dressed in a dark hooded robe like the other initiates, gazed around proudly. They’d worked hard, and the room looked amazing.
At the front of the room, beneath the highest arch, a long table had been placed, draped in a heavy red satin cloth and looking like some kind of altar. In the center of the table sat a huge deep stone bowl, almost like a baptismal font, and around it roses and orchids were set. More flowers had been scattered on the floor, and the scent of the crushed blossoms underfoot was so strong that it was dizzying. The pledges were lined up, evenly spaced, before the altar.
As if she’d picked up on his pride at how everything had turned out, Chloe pushed her dark hood back a bit and leaned toward him to mutter, “Pretty fabulous, huh?” Matt smiled at her. So what if she was dating someone else? He stil liked her. He wanted to stay friends, even if that was al there could be between them.
He tugged at his robe self-consciously; the fabric was heavy, and he didn’t like the way it blocked his peripheral vision.
The current masked members of the Vitale Society wove silently among the pledges, handing out goblets ful of some kind of liquid. Matt sniffed his and smel ed ginger and chamomile as wel as less familiar scents: so this was where the herbs had been used.
He smiled at the girl who gave it to him, but got no response. Her eyes behind the mask slid over him neutral y, and she moved on. Once he was a ful member of the Vitale Society, he would know who these current members were, would see them without their masks. He sipped from his goblet and grimaced: it tasted strange and bitter.