Андреа Кремер - Nightshade

“Run, Calla!” Shay cried. I bolted to the side and an avalanche of books crashed down on the two Searchers. A rush of air passed through my fur as the shelves smashed against the floor, inches from my body.

I looked up to see Shay standing in front of the next row of stacks. I shifted forms, darted to him, and shook my head when I caught sight of the smirk on his face.

“Are you hurt?” My eyes flicked over him.

“What? No kiss?” He pointed at the motionless pile of books, wood, and Searchers. “I’m a hero.”

“You’re impossible,” I said.

“Just trying to prove I’m as worthy as your wolf boy,” he said. “Let’s get the book and get the hell out of here.”

Shay took two leaps across the jumble, swept the Keeper’s book into his backpack, hooked his arm through the strap of my bag, and hurried back to me.

I gazed at the rubble of books and saw limbs peeking out; one of the Searchers’ fingers twitched.

“I really should kill them,” I murmured.

“I don’t think that would be a great idea,” Shay said, jerking his thumb toward the main area of the library. “We’re about to have an audience.”

“There was a horrible noise a moment ago. It came from back here.” A startled patron appeared from around the corner with the reference librarian in tow.

“Oh my God!” The patron dropped his reading glasses. “Is someone trapped underneath all that?”

“Call 911! Did you two see what happened?” The librarian clutched at her chest and I worried she might be having a heart attack. “Do you know who it is?”

The patron had pulled out a phone but stared at the mound of paperbacks and hardcovers in mute disbelief. The librarian snatched the cell from his hand and began punching buttons and muttering. No heart attack, just a drama queen.

“No, ma’am,” Shay said in a serious voice, offering wide, innocent eyes. “We just needed a quiet place to study. It didn’t work out so well.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at my mouth when I grabbed his hand and we ran from the library.

NINETEEN

BLOOD MOON. SAMHAIN. BLOOD MOON. Samhain. I made my way to class, unable to think of anything else. They were so close now, and I felt less certain than ever about both.

When I walked into Organic Chemistry, Ren flashed a broad smile.

“Lily.”

I couldn’t resist the challenge in his eyes. I aimed a kick at his shin, and he darted out of the way.

As we set up the lab, I glanced at the alpha. “Ren, what do you know about Samhain?”

He put on an overly thoughtful expression and wandered toward me. “Let’s see, it is my birthday and yours. But of course, you already know that.”

I blushed when he stepped behind me, encircling my waist with his arms.

His lips brushed against my ear. “I believe the answer that will not get me in trouble with you is: the happiest day of my life. Or something along those lines. Definitely not the end of my carefree days or when I get a ball and chain. Hmmm, I’m just realizing that I’m going to have to buy you birthday and anniversary presents at the same time. What a pain.”

“Oh, please.” I pushed him off with sharp jabs of my elbows.

His smile remained impish as he sidled back to the table and began to measure tea leaves. I flipped open my workbook.

“So we’re extracting the caffeine from tea?”

“Looks like.” He pulled out a set of scales.

I handed him a beaker and toyed with the pleats of my skirt. The folds kept rippling against my knees in a distracting way. It was one of Naomi’s additions to my wardrobe. I quickly decided that I hated it.

“I was being serious. Samhain. Do you know anything about the rites?”

“Nothing besides the usual stuff,” he said. “Spirit world, veil thins, blah, blah, blah.” I ignored his wink. “But my father did say it’s a dangerous night, that spirits are unpredictable when they have so much power.”

I shuddered, wondering what sort of spirits might be present at the union.

He reached for the calcium carbonate.

“It was the day my mother died,” he said quietly.

I froze in the midst of my attempt to light the Bunsen burner. Ren remained focused on the lab. Other than the tightening of his jaw, he gave no indication of distress.

“Your mother was killed on Samhain?” I breathed the question, thunderstruck. I had no idea that our union had been arranged to take place on the anniversary of Corinne Laroche’s murder.

He kept his eyes on the scales. “It was a Searcher ambush . . . You know the story. An attack that successful hasn’t occurred since.”

I did know the story; all the young wolves did. It was the stuff of legends. The Searchers had attacked the Bane compound on the west side of the mountain. The ambush had occurred before dawn, while Corinne was home alone with her infant son. Several Bane Guardians, including Ren’s mother, had been killed before the Keepers realized what was happening. The counter-assault against the Searchers had been brutal: the Keepers waged a sixmonth campaign to seek out and destroy the insurgents, who they’d discovered in various camps near Boulder. Before the incident outside Eden had occurred, the Searchers’ blow against the Banes had been the last major attack in the region.

I felt goose bumps rising on my arms.

Ren glanced at me and smiled when he saw I was shivering. “It’s all right, Calla. I barely remember her. And my job is to kill the people who took her away. Not a bad deal. That’s justice, in a way.”

I bit my lip, waiting for him to continue.

“Why are you trying to ruin the big surprise?” His lighthearted tone surprised me. “I thought you were a fan of the Keepers’ rules.”

“It would be nice to know something about what we’re supposed to do,” I muttered.

He pointed at the Bunsen burner. “Are you going to light that? We have to heat this for twenty minutes”—he looked down at his workbook—“while stirring.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” I grabbed the lighter, hurrying to start the flame.

“Do you want to stir?” He placed the beaker over the wire gauze.

“Sure,” I said. He handed me a glass rod.

Stirring proved rather dull. I sighed, leaning against the lab station. Ren reached out to catch one of the many pleats of my skirt between his fingertips.

“This skirt kind of looks like an accordion.” He laughed. “Not that it isn’t lovely on you.”

“Thanks,” I replied drily. “I believe they are actually called ‘accordion pleats.’ At least that’s what my mother tells me.”

“So I’ve been thinking about how we’re supposed to be officially dating now.”

“What about it?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“You mean go on a date?” I focused on stirring instead of my suddenly racing heart. “When?”

“Before the union. Have dinner with me and I’ll take you to Blood Moon for a couple of hours until it’s time for the ceremony.” His fingers moved from the pleats to the hem of my sweater, his hand slipping under the pale blue cashmere to stroke the skin of my lower back.

I gasped, caught his wrist in my fingers, and pulled his hand away from its provocative exploration.

“We are in class,” I hissed at him through clenched teeth.

I glanced around and noticed several pairs of eyes quickly averted. Ashley Rice kept her glare on me. I couldn’t bring myself to look in Shay’s direction.

Grinning, Ren tried to free his hand from my fierce grip. “You’re supposed to be stirring.”

“Behave yourself.” I released his wrist, giving him a final warning pinch before I returned to my task.

“Not likely,” he answered, but contented himself with clasping my free hand. A warm glow spread from my fingers to the crown of my head.