MADELINE stopped, listening in the ensuing silence for the direction of the cry, hoping for another. Only the sigh of wind in the pines met her ears. The cry of a distant hawk. A creek gurgling nearby. She thought of calling out for Noah but was afraid to give her position away to the creature. Instead, she crept silently around the perimeter of the cabin again, gripping the knife in one hand.
She hoped that Noah had successfully driven the creature away, but her gut knew Noah was no match for the creature. Without the dagger, the most he could hope for would be to knock it unconscious and run away. With a chill she thought of the men who had attacked her, of the gleaming, silver spike that the creature had summoned, driving it deep into their flesh.
She searched the entire area, moving in bigger and bigger circles radiating out from the cabin. She thought the cry had come from the north and searched longer in that direction, but to no avail. An hour passed, then two. She covered every foot of the surrounding area. Sweat clung to her body, stinging her eyes.
If Noah had been successful, even in knocking the creature out, he would have been back by now. She had to get help, get a rescue team going. Right then he could be lying helpless, bleeding to death while she searched fruitlessly.
She returned to the cabin and to Noah’s Jeep, flinging the door open. No keys. She was sure he had them in his pockets, but she just wanted to be certain. Quickly she checked the visors, under the seat, the glove compartment, and finally under the Jeep itself to see if he had a spare. No luck.
For a moment she frowned, looking at the steering column of the Jeep. In movies, criminals just touched two wires together and spark! They were on their way. She gazed at the tangle of cords hanging from the steering column, a rainbow of twisted cords bound together with small plastic clips. She had no idea which two would start the car if she touched them together. For a second she considered just ripping them all out and touching them all together until she found the right combination, but she thought that might just take the Jeep out of commission completely.
The nearest cabin lay two miles down the road, but when they’d passed it earlier, it showed no signs of occupation. And she knew it wouldn’t have a phone. The dirt road meandered for miles through the forest before rejoining North Fork Road on the outskirts of the park. She knew there’d be faster, more direct trails than sticking to the winding road.
At last a terrible wave of déjà vu washed over her as she realized she was going to have to hike down. She couldn’t just wait here for Noah and hope he came back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t lying far away somewhere, wounded, or worse. If she was going to get help, she had to do it now.
Putting the driver’s seat forward, she rummaged in the back of the Jeep, pulling out Noah’s huge backcountry pack. She could hike out without it, she knew, but there were a few supplies she didn’t want to be without. Laying it out on the ground, she unzipped the main compartment. From inside she took the map, a compass, two bottles of water, five mint-chocolate Genisoy protein bars, a purple and black Gore-Tex raincoat, Noah’s fleece jacket, and a baseball hat that read “Banff National Park” above the bill. These she stuffed in the day pack along with a flashlight, and zipped it up. She kept the knife in one hand. Quickly she returned the huge pack to the Jeep and shut the door. Hunkering down beside the car so she’d have at least a little cover, Madeline opened up the backcountry map and studied it.
In a few moments she’d located her position: a graded dirt road that ran from North Fork Road up a ridgeline. She was about thirty miles from the west entrance of Glacier National Park if she took the road. She shook her head. That would take too long. Way too long. She’d have to spend the night out, possibly two. She studied the map closer, and found a nearby trail that cut down into a valley and led to the Polebridge Ranger Station. According to the map, it was a mere 7.5-mile trek to the station, almost all of it downhill. She stood up, slinging the day pack over her shoulders.
According to the map, to the west the trail came within four hundred feet of the graded dirt road. She hiked in that direction, crossing the front yard of the cabin and entering the treeline beyond. Trying to stay in as straight a line as possible, she wove between pines and stepped over logs, avoiding thorny brambles.
The sky rumbled, and a few moments later rain erupted, trickling down through the trees. She paused, pulling out the rain gear and donning the parka.
“Madeline!” A sudden voice crashed in through the quiet pitter-patter of rain on her hood. She turned back around, trying to find the source of the voice. “Madeline!” shouted the voice again. Noah.
“Noah?” she called out, taking the hood down so she could see better.
“It is you!” Peering through the trees, she saw movement back at the Jeep. He ran out from behind it.
When she saw his face as he grew closer, Madeline cringed. One eye was completely swollen shut, the rest of his face bruised and cut. Blood wept freely from the gash in his neck as he hobbled quickly toward her with a painful-looking limp.
“Noah!” she cried, running toward him. Even closer, she saw the full scope of his injuries: a terrible slash in his stomach; blood soaked through the tear in his shirt; ragged, torn skin exposed beneath. A similar gash along one thigh had torn through his jeans. Through it Madeline saw muscle and the white gleaming of bone.
“It’s nothing,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
“Nothing!” she said in disbelief.
“I’ll heal,” he said simply. “You should have seen this an hour ago. I could see my own bone marrow.”
She winced.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him, feeling the slick of his sweat beneath her fingers as she hugged him back.
“But… I don’t understand.” He pulled away. “Didn’t he come after you? Didn’t he find you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“But-” Noah shook his head, looked down. Ran a hand over his face, wiping blood out of his eye. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t he come after you?”
Madeline had no idea why. She stood there silently. “What happened?”
After a moment, Noah looked back up at her. “We fought, but I didn’t have the knife, so it wasn’t much of a struggle.”
She cut in. “I found the pack and came back with the knife, but I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m glad you’ve still got it. We crashed through the cabin, ended up breaking through the back door. I took off down a path in the back. He came after me…” His voice trailed off.
“Go on.”
“He gave me one hell of a swipe to the head. I went unconscious. As I faded out, I heard him move off in your direction.” He looked down her intently. “I thought he’d get you for sure.”
“Well, if he had come after me, I would have been ready.” She thought of the knife lying safe in the backpack.
“Damn, you’re tough.” He held her again, but she didn’t feel so tough. She was scared. Damn scared.
“So where do you think he is now?” she asked, hugging him again, placing her head on his shoulder.
They parted. “I don’t know. But I think we should get out of here. Fast.”
“I’m with you on that.” She looked around at the deepening shadows, wondering what they hid. “Let’s go.”
As they walked to the car, he asked her, “Where were you going?”
She shrugged. “To hike out.”
“Just like old times, eh?” he laughed.
“I wasn’t looking forward to the seven-mile hike back. As much as I love hiking, fleeing down a mountainside because I’m in mortal peril is getting really old.” She paused. Then, looking around she said, “Do you think he’ll find us again? I mean, back at the cabin in Apgar?”
Noah gingerly touched the wound on his cheek. “At this point, I don’t feel like we’re safe anywhere.”
She took in his injuries. “I think I should drive. You’re in no shape. Do you have a first aid kit?”
He shook his head. “I think it’s back at the cabin. But give me another hour. My leg and neck will be just fine.”
She gazed at him in amazement. “Not even Neosporin?”
He laughed.
Noah opened the doors to the Jeep, Madeline checking the back end about five times before she was convinced the creature wasn’t in there,
“It’s not back there,” Noah said finally. “Really. I don’t think it can change into a box of snow chains. At least, not a very convincing box of snow chains.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re the expert.” Hefting herself into the Jeep, she said, “Are you coming or what?”
Noah shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips as he climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep.
“Should we return to our cabin?” she asked.
“It’s too late to go anywhere else tonight.” After a long pause, he added, “Are you going home now? I mean, now that you say you aren’t in danger?”
Madeline climbed into the driver’s seat quietly, resisting the urge to say yes. She was a changed person when it came to her gift. At least, she was trying to be. Finally she shook her head. “No,” she said at last. “I told you I’d help you track him, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Suddenly reality dawned upon her. She thought of the centuries Noah had been tirelessly tracking the creature. He still hadn’t succeeded in killing him. Classes started in San Francisco in just two months. This was her chance at a normal college life. What was she supposed to do? Postpone classes? She stopped that train of thought. They had two months. Two whole months. And there was a difference now. Until now Noah didn’t have her gift aiding him. Now they would know where the creature was. And for now, she knew it would stay close to her, at least until it chose its next victim.
“I’m starving,” he said suddenly, cutting into her thoughts. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
“There’s got to be someplace to eat near the campground.”
“No cheese and crackers tonight?”
He shook his head. “There’s a diner out on Route 2. Great omelets.”
Her stomach grumbled at the thought of it.
“But don’t you even want to clean the cuts?”
“That’s what restaurant bathrooms are for.”
“Of course.” She threw the Jeep in gear.
At the diner, a rotund waitress in a burgundy apron and large-collared white dress seated them by a window. The diner was of ’50s cinder-block construction, the exterior painted utilitarian gray like an old bomb shelter. Heck, maybe it was one, Madeline thought. But she didn’t care. She was starving.
Bright neon signs in the window advertised a Breakfast Special and four kinds of beer.
Inside, attempts at cheery decoration included enough plastic flowers and plants to open their own craft store, and vases at every table held genuine carnations in reds, pinks, and whites.
They sat down in a vinyl-seated booth, the material creaking as they squeezed in.
The waitress, after giving Noah a long, disdainful look, as if he’d been out picking fights in the local bars, gave them each a menu and walked away. Noah excused himself for the men’s room and returned ten minutes later, looking infinitely better. He was right; he healed fast. Already the swelling in his eye had receded, and he could now open both eyes. The wounds in his neck and stomach were mere scratches, and the gash in his leg had almost closed completely, just a thin, red line visible through the tear in his jeans.
They made small talk while they glanced at the menu, resuming again after the waitress took their order. Noah looked nervous, glancing out of the large windows now and again at the darkened parking lot. When he wasn’t doing that, he studied her intently as she sipped the steaming cup of coffee that tasted like two-day-old peanut shells soaked in hot water. For once he seemed at a loss for words and kept unusually quiet as they munched on their omelets and steaming French toast drenched in maple syrup.
She glanced around at the other customers, most of them middle-aged men and women wearing ranchers’ clothes: worn overalls, warm corduroy shirts, and almost all the men in wide-brimmed cowboy hats. She loved that none of them stared at her or whispered surreptitiously. She was a total stranger here.
Country music played softly from a tinny speaker above them. A man sang about his “girl” in a mournful voice, crooning that he would have loved her forever, even if it took all night.
An electronic bell chimed as another customer entered the diner. Madeline turned to look at him and froze. It was Steve, the naturalist.
Or something pretending to be Steve.
He walked in, giving the waitress an easy smile and removed his ranger’s hat. With one hand he fluffed his sandy brown hair to get rid of his hat hair and began following her to a table on the other side of the restaurant. He walked with a bad limp.
Madeline dipped her head low so the creature wouldn’t see her and turned to Noah.
“Noah!” she said low, urgently.
He looked up in midsip. “What is it?”
“Stefan!” she whispered.
Noah started, coffee spilling over the table. He winced as it burned his hand, then put the cup down. “Where?”
“Over there.” She gestured with her head. “He’s being seated, impersonating Steve. Just like he did when he wrecked his car.” When Noah remained silent, she went on. “That can’t be Steve. You said the creature could only appear as someone it had killed, so what I saw that night in the ditch, the creature imitating Steve, must mean that he had killed him earlier that night.”
Noah wrinkled his brow. “Only look like someone he’s killed?”
She nodded. “Right?”
Noah swallowed hard. “Right.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just,” he cleared his throat, looking over at Steve. “Just so many victims.”
“What should we do?” she asked, leaning closer to him across the table. “Confront him? Jump him in the rest-room?”
“We shouldn’t let him see us. Let’s just leave.”
Madeline’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Noah just stared back at her.
“But you’ve been waiting for this opportunity. Let’s lure him outside and tackle him.”
Suddenly, as she watched him from across the table, he ducked his head low and turned it toward the window.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“He’s coming over here.”
“What?” Fear flopped in her stomach. She turned slowly. “Steve” was walking quickly toward their table.
“Madeline!” he said. “I can’t believe it’s you. I saw you from across the restaurant. Thought you’d be gone by now!” He continued toward her, limping severely. She sat transfixed, watching him approach. To her amazement, he walked right up to the table. “Can I sit down? My leg’s killing me. And I have to talk to you. You won’t believe what’s happened.”
Her mouth went dry. Her limbs felt heavy as sledgehammers, and still she sat, immobile, as she watched him. Here he was, the creature, in the middle of this well-lit diner, talking to her as if nothing was wrong. His gall was unbelievable.
She was blocked into the booth, “Steve” standing in her exit path. Noah just sat there silently, his face unreadable, almost frozen.
And then, to her amazement, Noah scooted over and offered “Steve” a seat.
“Thanks a lot, man,” he responded, and plunked down next to him in the booth.
The thing pretending to be a naturalist leaned across the table and whispered to her. “You won’t believe what happened. I never should have doubted you!”
She listened, half-dumbfounded by Noah’s behavior and half trying to figure out how she could make it out to the Jeep to grab the backpack and the weapon.
“Steve” continued talking. “So last night, after I dropped you off, I kept on toward Missoula. I wasn’t two miles away when all of a sudden I see this dark shape standing at the edge of the treeline. At first it’s upright, like the shadow of a man just at the edge of the road. Then, as I get a little closer, it drops down on all fours. My headlights lit it up. It charged straight for my car.”
He fell silent and glanced around at the other tables to see if anyone was listening. They weren’t. Above him the speaker piped out a sad ballad about a dejected man who would do anything to get his lady back. Madeline was beginning to notice a pattern.
“It rammed into my car. Full tilt. Smash. Completely creamed the driver’s side. I swerved off the road and into a ditch. The thing came around and opened the passenger door, started climbing in. It was terrifying: absolutely inky black and featureless, more like a shadow than a living thing. But it had eyes-I’ll never forget them; huge red saucer eyes-and a mouth full of pointed teeth. It tore a huge gash in my leg.
“I pulled out my shotgun and shot it. Two times at point-blank range. Right in the head and chest. It let out this howl and flew back into the ditch. I reloaded, hit it again. I tried to get out of my side of the car but couldn’t. I could already smell gas spilling out, so I quickly climbed out of the passenger side.” He looked around again. No one was even glancing over at them. “And can you believe that thing started to get up? I reloaded and fired the rest of my rounds into its chest and ran like hell.”
She watched him as he talked. His voice, mannerisms, eyes, all seemed like Steve. She hadn’t known the naturalist for very long, but even still, she’d felt a kinship with him. They read the same books. Had similar interests and beliefs. Some people you just liked right away and felt a strong connection to. Steve had been one of those people. Suddenly she was starting to have doubts that this was in fact the creature.
“It’s got to be the same thing you saw, right?”
She didn’t answer.
He continued. “I hiked for a long time, my leg killing me, and eventually reached this ranger’s residence. We radioed for backup. But when we got back there, my car had exploded and burned through a meadow on the side of the road. There was no sign of the creature. No body. No remains. Just the smoldering meadow and strewn car parts.”
She looked at Noah, who was listening intently to the ranger. “What happened then?” he asked.
Steve shrugged. “An EMT fixed my leg. I got stitches and some codeine. Went back to my cabin.” He regarded Madeline intently. “And regretted not doing more to help you,” he added.
“You were plenty of help,” she said, leaning even more toward believing him.
“Why didn’t you get the hell away from here?” Steve asked.
She stared at Noah. “I thought I could help,” she said finally. Reaching across the table, she squeezed Noah’s hand. He seemed surprised, but then he squeezed her hand back.
She suddenly thought of a way she could know for sure. She looked uncertainly across the table at the naturalist. “Could I see where it scratched you?” she asked.
Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘scratched,’ more like ‘took a chunk out of my leg.’ What, are you into the gory stuff? Shark victims, bear attacks, that kind of thing?”
She shook her head. “It would just put my mind to rest about something.” If this was actually Steve, then the wound would still look fresh.
Steve shrugged. “Okay,” he said finally. “But you probably want to finish your dinner first.”
Just then the waitress approached and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of Steve. “Just want to sit here, hon?”
“Sure,” he said, then looked at Noah and Madeline. “If that’s okay with you two.”
“Oh, perfectly,” Noah said, trying to make him feel at ease.
Madeline found she couldn’t eat another bite of omelet until she knew for sure if the person at their table was her new friend or her relentless pursuer.
At her insistence, the three of them went out to the parking lot. Steve wore the kind of pants that zipped off into shorts, and he zipped off the bottom half of the left pant leg. Pulling the leg up, he revealed a blood-soaked bandage covering his thigh. Gently he peeled away the white first aid tape on one side and revealed a hideously long gash in his thigh. Brown stitches, over thirty total, ran the course of the wound, which seeped blood at the edges.
Gasping, Madeline took in the severity of the wound, sucking in breath and wincing.
Noah gave a long, low whistle.
“Satisfied?” Steve asked, grimacing as he replaced the bandage.
Noah nodded.
Madeline still wasn’t sure. She guessed it could fake a wound, too. She said, “Now give me something personal.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Like your watch or a piece of jewelry.”
“What, are you robbing me now, too?”
“Seriously.”
After a pause, during which he scrutinized her, he said, “Okay.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a half dollar. “My grandpa gave it to me. Good luck charm.”
She grasped the coin tightly and let images come to her.
An older man with a kind face sitting in a blanket-covered chair telling a story…
Steve and the woman she’d seen before in the vision from his couch, kissing passionately…
Steve hiking along a road in the dark, leg in agony…
Steve arriving back at the scene of the fire with backup…
This was Steve. She handed the coin back.
“Mind telling me why that was necessary?”
“The creature can-” Madeline began, but was cut off by Noah.
“The creature’s scratches can be poisonous. But it doesn’t look like he infected you.”
Madeline looked at Noah in bewilderment.
Steve sighed. “Well, big thanks for small miracles.” Then he looked at Madeline with concern. “But that thing-twelve rounds right into his chest and head. No effect but to stun him. You need to get away from here, Madeline. Get in your car right now and get the hell away.”
His words chilled her as the three stood out in the shadowed parking lot. Once again she felt vulnerable, uncertain. Ironically, thinking the creature was right there in the diner with them had almost been preferable to having no idea where it actually was. It could be waiting anywhere, hoping to catch her alone. She shuddered against the chill of the evening.
“Let’s get back inside,” she said.
The other two nodded, and they turned their backs to the night, returning to the diner and its cheerful plastic flowers.
Their food had gone cold.
After they ate, and after much debate in the parking lot, Steve went back to his cabin, and Noah and Madeline returned to their own. Noah had tried to convince Steve not to get involved, though the ranger was already in it to some extent, as he had to write up a report about his car. “The other rangers seemed to think it was a grizzly,” he had explained. “They’ve been known to take a gunshot and keep moving.”
“What do you think?” Noah had asked, keeping mum about the true nature of the creature.
Steve had shaken his head. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s no damn grizzly. It’s something otherworldly. And something lethal.”
Noah had nodded, and Madeline and he said no more. Steve said some armed rangers were doing sweeps of the area to see what they could turn up.
Back at their cabin in Apgar, Madeline went through the ritual of checking windows and doors about six times. She was still hungry, even after their cold, slimy omelets, which were definitely not “great” as Noah had claimed before. Neither had eaten much of theirs, deciding to pick up something else on the way home.
Noah had gotten them sandwiches at the little camp store. Madeline believed hers was tuna salad but wasn’t entirely convinced. Noah’s, on the other hand, was clearly ham, or possibly turkey. They munched on the flabby white bread, which was soaked with a white, tangy, unnamed sandwich dressing, and chewed at the wilted lettuce bits. It wasn’t the best meal she’d ever had, but it was at least better than the grease-laden omelet.
Already the bruises on Noah’s face had faded, and she could only see them because she knew where to look. The cuts on his neck and stomach had completely closed, and the gash on his leg was nothing more than the faintest red line.
“Your healing powers are amazing.”
He nodded. “One of the benefits.” He grimaced at the food. “This isn’t very satisfying. What a bad night for food. Nothing seems to taste very good.” After a moment, his face brightened. “Say! What if we rob one of those metal bear lockers that campers are required to put their food in?”
She stared at him in wonder, sandwich wilting in her hand, the tuna dripping onto the table, looking for an easy route back to the sea.
“Hey, it’s dark. We could be sneaky! There are probably hot dogs, Cheetos, you name it!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to be awakened by little Billy wailing at six in the morning because someone with clearly sketchy morality has absconded his Cheetos?”
Noah frowned, harrumphed, then bit into his soggy sandwich. “I guess not,” he mumbled.
She chewed on hers awhile longer, finished it, and licked her fingers. “Well, I’m ready for those Cheetos now.”
Noah stared back at her.
“Well?” She crossed her legs and looked at him impatiently.
“No, no,” Noah said, waving a dismissive hand at her. “I’m a reformed man now. Can’t stoop to having ‘sketchy morality. ’ ”
“Me and my big mouth.” She looked down at her hands. “And I was already looking forward to Day-Glo orange fingers.”
He looked away, chin up, a superior gleam in his eye. “As attractive as that sounds, you will not be able to corrupt me.”
“Shoot.”
He looked at her then, closely and intensely, his smile fading completely. “It’s amazing you can be high-spirited in such serious danger.”
She gave a slight shrug. “Sometimes you have to be or you’d go crazy. At this point, I guess I’m too exhausted to be terrified.”
He nodded. “I know what you mean.” He smiled again. “Thanks. I haven’t laughed in a long time.”
She nodded. “Me, neither. What an intense couple of days this has been.”
“I’ll say.”
She regarded him with interest. “This must be normal for you, living your life on the run, always in danger.”
He looked away, out of the window. “I suppose I am on the move a lot. But I kind of like the danger.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m so stressed out I keep catching myself clenching my teeth. You actually like this?”
He looked back at her, eyes glittering. “A little bit,” he admitted. “Though I don’t appreciate being hunted.”
She thought of the creature out there, prowling, perhaps even now back on their trail.
“Nor do I,” she responded.
“Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that anymore.”
Her brow crinkled. “You mean you think he’s given up now? Before, you wouldn’t agree. What changed your mind?”
“I wouldn’t say he’s given up, but I think if he was dead set on killing you, he’d have tried by now.”
“Tried?” she snorted. “I think he already has… dragging me down in the freezing water, chasing me down the mountain in the dead of night, almost getting me barbecued in that meadow-”
“Maybe he wasn’t trying to drown you in the river. Maybe he was frantic and clutched on to you in panic.”
She stared at him in wonder.
“I mean,” he added quickly, “his MO is to eat people, not drown them.”
“I guess you have a point,” she conceded, though she felt sick at the thought of the river and that thing’s claws holding her fast underwater.
“Sorry if I upset you.”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just shaken up, I guess.”
“Understandably.” He leaned over and held her, a comforting hug that made her feel some solace. She was glad he was there. Resting her head on his shoulder, she realized how good he smelled. He noticed her breathing him in and smiled.
“Well, I guess we should clean this stuff up,” she said, pulling away.
He still smiled, straightening up. “I’ll do it.”
She stood up, and he instantly rose to his feet, moving so quickly she didn’t see him do it.
His eyes glittered with energy. They stood only a foot apart. The tension hung between them, palpable, lingering. He reached out and touched her arm, caressing down from her shoulder to her wrist, then back up, across her collarbone to her bare neck, his hand warm against her skin there.
His fingers caressed her jawline, and she relished the sensation, closing her eyes momentarily to the arousing caress. He brought his other hand up, stroking her other arm and shoulder, till both hands curled around her neck. He stepped closer. She drank in every sensation.
His thigh moved forward, brushing hers. She shifted her leg so they continued to touch, thigh to thigh. He studied her intently, green eyes roaming over every feature of her face. Then he leaned in, pressing his cheek against hers, the rough of his whiskers gently brushing her skin. He radiated warmth, giving off an enticing scent she couldn’t place.
He inhaled deeply, lips tracing over her cheekbone to her jaw, then down to her chin, her neck. She sighed when he reached the sensitive skin there, and she leaned against the table to steady herself.
Still he breathed her in, mouth moving to her neck. His fingers found the collar of her shirt, and he pulled it down slightly, exposing a collarbone. His lips brushed along it, tongue darting out briefly to taste her, her skin humming to his touch.
Reaching out, she grasped his arm, pulled him still closer, stroking down the muscles between his shoulder blades.
And she could smell him deeply now, his skin, his hair. It was different somehow, the oils of his skin more fragrant, alluring. He turned his head to face her, their lips mere inches apart. She could almost feel his spirit tugging at her, an invisible force drawing her closer, irresistible and intoxicating. Her lips felt hot, engorged with desire.
But Noah didn’t draw closer. He stayed that inch away, eyes melting into her. She leaned a fraction closer, and he sealed the distance, pressing his lips against hers with such feverish passion that a well of electricity surged through her stomach.
His hand laced through her hair, cradling her head. He kissed her deeply, passionately, his tongue darting out to meet hers. He tasted exquisite, like some rich, tropical fruit. The tip of his tongue carried an electric charge when it entwined with her own.
It hadn’t been like this the first time they kissed.
His lips moved from her mouth to her chin, strong kisses then moving along her neck. He tilted her head to the side as his tongue flickered luxuriantly over her skin there. Then his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her away from the table as his teeth grazed her skin and then sank in-not painfully, not breaking the skin, but passionately pressing against the muscles there while his tongue caressed her. Involuntarily, her eyes rolled back in her head in ecstasy as he moved to the other side of her neck, sensually biting and kissing her there.
She gripped his arms, his muscles taut from holding her, and gasped with pleasure.
His strong hands caressed down her back, across her stomach, up her arms. His lips returned to hers, and once again she tasted that sweet, delicious taste and breathed in his intoxicating scent.
Swaying, he moved his hips against hers. Their pelvises pressed together, she could feel him, hot and erect, through his jeans. Turning her hips, she pressed against him, and he sighed with pleasure.
She breathed in deeply, his alluring aroma making her head sing and feel warm with desire. Had he smelled this good before? Something was so different… so incredibly alluring. She felt light, swept away, heady and almost swooning. Her body sang at his touch, longing for his hands to roam over her.
“Madeline,” he breathed between kisses, sighing her name. “You taste so good. Better than I imagined. Better than anything… this way.”
His hands ran down her sides to her hips, Madeline thrumming on a wave of desire. Her lips left his, and she kissed along his jawline to his neck, his skin tasting of something exotic she couldn’t quite place. Vanilla? He tasted incredible. She wanted to devour him. Gently she licked along his neck, then bit him gently, eliciting a moan from him. She released, then bit him gently again, lower, by his collarbone, and this time he growled, his fingers curling into her.
The growl was deep and throaty, and she wondered if he was changing again. But when she gazed up, he was the same Noah, piercing green eyes meeting her own.
“I’m on fire,” he said. “Kiss me.”
She did, and he lifted her up, hooking his hands under her thighs while she straddled him. He carried her over into the bedroom and threw her down on the bed, landing on his knees between her thighs. His strong hands stroked the length of her legs, and then he sprang forward, arms supporting him mere inches above her. She longed for their bodies to touch. He lowered his lips, kissing her deeply, and then lowered the rest of his body, pressing down on her, writhing sensually.
“Madeline,” she heard him say, though it felt as if he was saying it from some far-off place.
An intense, deep wave crashed over itself inside her belly. Though they were still fully clothed, she felt desire like she had never known, her lips tingling, burning; her stomach rolling in on powerful waves; her chest heaving; her eyes closing with pleasure. She breathed him in, savoring every sensation. Her heart pounded so loudly it felt like it reverberated about the room.
“You feel… different…” she breathed out.
He stopped kissing her and studied her intently. “Do I?”
She nodded.
He remained staring down at her, his green eyes flashing briefly. Something in those eyes was hauntingly familiar, and yet she couldn’t quite place it. He stared at her, intrigued, looking into her. It wasn’t the way Noah normally looked at her. His smell, his taste, his kiss, all of it was so different. He looked like Noah, but-
Inside, the waves of passion turned to ice. She pushed at him, rolling out from under him while he continued to watch her, transfixed. “It’s you,” she breathed.
He watched her move away. “I’ve traveled for so long,” he said, reaching his hand out to her. “You can see the journey I’ve had. You could know me. Without me saying a word.”
The pounding continued. She realized now, separated from him, that it wasn’t just her heart. It was the door. Someone was there, desperately wanting in.
“Madeline!” Her name. From far off. It hadn’t been uttered moments ago by the creature at all but by the real Noah on the other side of the door.
She leapt up, the creature propping himself up to watch her, looking so strikingly like Noah that suddenly she was uncertain again.
Quickly she reached the door, flung it open. Noah stood in the doorframe, chest heaving, face desperate and bruised.
“Thank the gods,” he said, drawing her into his arms. “I thought he’d got you!” She clutched him tightly, breathing in his scent. Yes. This was Noah. The hint of sun protection, the wisp of cinnamon.
Then, looking up over her shoulder, he breathed, “What in the hell?”
She spun around. The false Noah stood there, framed in the bedroom doorway.
Behind her, Noah gasped. “But… am I dead?”
“No!” she said, not taking her eyes off the creature. “He can become anyone. Noah, you were wrong.”
“Back so soon?” asked the false Noah.
Behind her, Noah shook with anger.
“After you tumbled into that ravine, I thought of sticking around to kill you, but,” he looked at Madeline, “I had better things to do with my time.” He sounded calm, assured, but his eyes held something else in their depths. Maybe sadness, she realized.
Noah was anything but calm. He stepped forward, neck veins bulging, “This is it! You die here!”
He pushed past her and launched into the air, colliding with the creature in the center of the room, a clumsy, rage-driven move that knocked the false Noah sprawling across the floor.
They tangled there violently as Madeline gawked, frozen. It was bizarre to see Noah and his doppelgänger roll across the floor, both wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. She moved in to help and suddenly realized she couldn’t tell them apart, had completely lost track of the real Noah. Both even had identical tears in their jeans and T-shirts.
Then one of the Noahs met with a violent kick in the gut and rolled off to the side, momentarily unable to breathe. The other Noah leapt to his feet and ran to Madeline. She steeled herself, ready to punch him in the face if she needed to. “Where’s the backpack?” he asked just as the other Noah rose from the floor and struck him in the head with an upraised fist. “Get the backpack!” he shrieked as he fell.
That had to be the real Noah. The creature wouldn’t need the weapon to kill, but Noah would. Without taking her eyes off the real Noah, she backed up quickly, groping behind her for the backpack, which she’d tossed down when she entered the cabin.
As Noah struggled and kicked at his doppelgänger, Madeline’s hand felt the wood of the chair, then the table, then the canvas of the pack. Desperately she grabbed it, unzipping it and shoving her hand inside. Her fingers closed around the cold metal of the dagger.
Dashing forward, knife in hand, she reached them just as the creature gained the advantage again and flipped Noah over on his back. She raised the knife and thrusting forward, drove it deeply into the creature’s kidneys. Howling in agony, he twisted and sprang up, trying to grab at the blade there, wrenching it out of Madeline’s grasp as he stood.
But Noah was too fast. In an instant he was on his feet, grabbing the handle of the dagger. With a sharp tug, he slid it out of his twin’s back and then brought it forward again as the creature dodged. The blade connected with Stefan’s cheekbone. A red gash opened in his face, streaming with blood.
Staggering backward, Stefan brought a hand to his slashed face, eyes bewildered. And there was something else, too: fear, Madeline realized. For the first time, he was afraid.
“So this is what you meant earlier by the ‘knife,’ ” he gasped. “I can see why you were so eager to have it.” And then he started changing, Noah’s features melting away into the visage of the same olive-skinned man she’d seen him take on before. Long black hair sprouted, taking the place of Noah’s blond color, and fiendish claws replaced the fingernails on his hands.
Noah didn’t stop, advancing on Stefan with clenched teeth and wild eyes. He struck out once, missed as the creature ducked, and then scored a hit just below Stefan’s rib cage, ripping open a hole there as big as a football.
With his right arm, Stefan swung out, connecting with Noah’s throat and sending him spiraling back into the wall.
Hacking and gasping, Noah bounced off and surged right back, swinging the knife, darting it in and out like a striking cobra. She’d never seen him move so fast. He must have practiced this scene a thousand times, picturing his moment of triumph.
Noah whipped his foot out suddenly while Stefan’s attention was transfixed on the moving blade. With a violent crash Stefan smashed to the floor as Noah’s leg swept him off his feet. Losing no time, he closed in, leaping on top of Stefan and stabbing the blade deep into his throat. Then, using both hands, he drew the blade across, ripping open a seven-inch weeping gash in the creature’s exposed neck. Blood gurgled and bubbled in the wound as Stefan tried to breathe, his eyes full of terror.
In a frenzy of rage, Noah withdrew the blade and struck over and over again, puncturing Stefan’s chest, stomach, neck, and face. Crying in gleeful ululation as each blow landed home, he sent up a spatter of fresh, warm blood with each wound. The creature raised his arms defensively in an attempt to block Noah’s blows, blood pooling on the floor, seeping ever closer to where Madeline stood transfixed.
She darted in to help Noah.
And then something terrible happened.
Stefan jolted his hip, hitting Noah and knocking him off balance. The creature turned, twisted, and rose to his knees, grabbing the blade of the knife with both hands. Not as strong as the creature, Noah struggled to maintain a hold on the knife as Stefan whipped it around violently in his grasp.
Then the creature’s left hand changed from flesh to metal, the same spike he’d used to destroy her attackers. The flashing metal touched the metal of the blade, melting and seeping over it. Instantly the blade changed form, bursting from Noah’s grip. The creature pushed away from Noah, rising to his feet. Where the blade joined the end of the metallic arm, it sprouted a finger, then four more, joining seamlessly with the creature’s arm until it was a hand.
Howling in agony, Stefan staggered backward, slamming against the wall. The metal hand grew flesh, fingernails. Chest soaked with blood, throat streaming red to the floor, the creature gasped and sputtered, staring at Noah through tearing eyes. “Thanks,” he growled. “I’ve been missing that part for a long time.”
Noah stood up, then froze, staring at the creature running free with blood.
Stefan staggered toward Noah and spat in his face, “I’m coming back for you. And I will kill you.”
Then he pivoted, turning toward Madeline. She gasped when she saw him look at her, eyes dark with pain, face smeared in scarlet, deep knife holes in his cheeks, revealing sections of teeth and glistening blood-streaked bone. He stumbled toward her grimly, and she moved out of his way, hearing the sucking and laboring of his breathing. He was hurt badly, close to death.
But now they had no way to finish him.
Sliding in his own blood, he walked right by her to the front door and went through it.
She looked back at Noah. He was still frozen in the same spot but had turned to watch Stefan go. Madeline didn’t know what to do. She thought of chasing after the creature, pounding on him until he stopped breathing so he couldn’t claim any more victims. But she knew that wouldn’t kill him. Noah had said they needed the weapon. And it was gone.
She glanced out the door. The creature was gone now, too.
“Noah,” she said, turning back around. He gave no indication of hearing her.
“Noah,” she said again softly.
Still he stood there, unblinking, unmoving.
And then he fell to his knees, a great eerie keening escaping his lips. He pressed his blood-soaked hands to his face and sobbed, a terrible long, helpless sound.