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The Rising by Kelley Armstrong (20)

WE WALKED INSIDE. AS we did, I stopped short. There was a girl sitting at a table across the room. She was bent over a piece of paper and seemed to be writing.

Rafe tugged me forward. “Maya, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

The girl at the table turned. When she did, I smiled.

“Annie.” I started forward, then shot a glance back at Rafe. “I believe we’ve met.”

“Not exactly,” Annie said, and her voice was different, lower. Her smile was different, too. Not the exuberant grin I remembered, but something more tentative, almost shy.

She stood and came toward me. Not flying at me, arms wide, the way she usually did, but just walking, her steps as tentative as her smile. I looked at the table and saw what she’d been doing. Drawing.

I glanced at Rafe. He grinned and nodded, his face glowing again.

“They’ve . . .” I began, struggling for the words.

“Fixed me,” Annie said. “For very brief periods so far. But it’s a start.” She walked over and hugged me, and even if it wasn’t her usual rib-crushing embrace, it was still a real hug, tight and sincere.

“So you . . . remember everything?” I said.

She waved us to the sofa and patted the spot beside her. I took it, and Rafe perched on the arm, still grinning.

“There are bits and pieces I don’t remember, probably when I shifted. The rest is . . . odd. Like I was watching myself.” She shook her head. “No, watching someone that looked like me and felt a bit like me, but wasn’t, not really. It was like being . . .” She blushed. “Like being high unexpectedly. Which wouldn’t be a new experience for me. When you’re trying to break in as an artist, you can’t always be sure that the wine is just wine. I felt high and happy and carefree, but inside, part of me was banging at the walls to get out. To come down. To be myself.”

“And now you are.”

“For short periods. They’ll continue with the doses and they expect I should be back to myself in a few months.” She paused. “Rafe tells me you’ve shifted.”

“I have.”

“No . . . problems?”

I tried not to think about what Nast said. “Not yet. But I feel a lot better knowing there’s a cure. They worked fast finding it.”

“Not really,” Rafe said. “They already knew there were possible side effects. They had something ready in case this happened. Untested but—” He shrugged. “Obviously working.”

Annie clasped my hands. “I’m glad you’re okay, Maya. I know you don’t want to be here, but I’m glad you’re safe, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you. Really know you.” She smiled at Rafe. “You’ve made my brother happier than I’ve seen him in a very long time.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, but he still hadn’t completely wiped the smile from his face. I knew I wasn’t the only reason he was happy. This was what he wanted—to help Annie. It was why he’d come to Salmon Creek. The reason for everything he’d done since he arrived.

“And with that, I’m going to take my leave and let you two catch up,” Annie said as she stood. “I’m sure Rafael doesn’t want his big sister around for that.”

“You don’t have to—” I began.

“My time’s running out,” she said. “I only get about twenty good minutes every treatment.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I said. “You were fine before—”

“I appreciate you saying that, Maya. I really do. I remember how kind you were to me. But if you’re going to get to know the real me, I’d rather . . .” She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I’d rather stick to that. With you and with Rafe. We’ll get our twenty minutes a few times a day, and that’s it for now.”

“Believe me, I’ve argued,” Rafe muttered. “But she’s almost as stubborn as you.”

As Annie walked by, she reached out and ruffled his hair, as I’d seen her do before, but gentler now, only laughing when he grumbled, then patting his shoulder, waving to me and leaving us alone.

Rafe waited until Annie closed the door behind her, then he slid onto the couch beside me. “So, any ideas how we should spend our time alone?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to. I wanted to just grab him and kiss him and forget everything else. That’s how it used to be. See Rafe; forget the rest of the world. But now that world was thundering in my head, with those photos of Daniel front and center.

I turned away, trying to make it look casual, teasing even. But I needed that moment to clear my mind. Worrying about Daniel wouldn’t help. I wanted to forget. Just for a minute. When I was ready, I glanced back at him and smiled. “I might have a few ideas. You?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

I inched closer. “I bet I can guess yours.”

“I bet you can.”

“Does it involve . . . ?” I crossed the gap and leaned toward him. “This?” I thrust a game controller up between us. “I play a mean game of Mario Kart.”

He laughed and pushed the controller aside. “I’m sure you do. However, that’s not quite what I had in mind.”

I waited until he bent for a kiss, then jumped up and grabbed a handful of cases from the coffee table.

“Call of Duty?” I said, lifting one.

He stood and stepped toward me. “No.”

I backed up. “Left 4 Dead?”

Another step forward. “No.”

I continued moving back, waggling the cases in front of me. “So you don’t want to play games?”

“Mmm, never said that. Just not those. I prefer something more . . . physical.”

“Got it!” I shoved a case forward. “Wii Fit.”

He laughed and plucked it from my hand. We did another two-step—me back, him forward, his gaze on mine, his grin sending heat rushing through me.

“Do you like chasing?” I said.

His grin sparked. “You know I do.”

“Wrestling?”

“Definitely.”

I held up Grand Theft Auto and WWE. He lunged. I dodged, dropping the games and racing across the room. He gave chase and I felt his fingers brush the back of my shirt. I veered and vaulted over the sofa. He tried to do an end-run around it, but I quick-stepped the other way, then back again when he reversed course.

We paced along our sides of the couch a few times. Then he sprinted. I raced around the other side. He lunged over the back, fingers grabbing my shirt and yanking me to him when I tried to run.

“Gotcha,” he said.

I rolled my eyes and let him pull me close. When we were almost touching, he relaxed his grip. I broke away. He managed to snag my leg with his foot. I stumbled. He caught my arm and redirected my fall, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the couch, with Rafe over me, my arms around his neck.

“You are remarkably good at that,” I said.

“It’s all instinct.”

“Uh-huh.” I smiled and pulled him down into a kiss.

We were still down there, a few minutes later, when a voice over our heads said, “Jesus. I know you guys have been separated for an entire forty-eight hours. But really?”

I looked up to see Sam—Samantha Russo—standing there, arms crossed, looking remarkably like the teacher who’d caught Rafe and me making out behind the school. A crutch was propped under one arm.

“Yes,” said another voice. “Get a room. Please.”

When I looked at Hayley, Sam said, “Don’t suggest that or he will. And Maya’s too gaga to resist.”

Rafe shot her the finger, but it was a cheerful gesture, as if even she couldn’t spoil his mood. I got up and gave Hayley a hug. It was awkward—we’ve never been friends—and she seemed surprised, but not displeased. Sam just scowled, arms crossing tighter, as if I might try the same thing on her. I didn’t.

“So you’re both okay?” I said. “You look okay.”

Sam shrugged. “We’re good.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘good,’” Hayley said. “We’re lab rats in a secured facility under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

Sam shrugged again. “They haven’t hurt us. They’ve helped Annie. They’ve fixed up my leg. It’s not so bad, really.”

“Not so bad?” I said. “We—”

Rafe caught my hand and squeezed. “We’re having a difference of opinion that I’m sure we’ll get into later. For now, let’s just take a breather and get caught up.”

Hayley nodded. “What’s happening with Corey and Daniel? They’re okay, right? Still running? Still safe?”

The room seemed to freeze. My breath jammed in my throat and I could hear my blood pounding.

Rafe led me back to the sofa. “They’re okay, but that’s something Maya needs to talk about. If everyone can just—”

“Maya?” Sam said. “I know you can be insufferably bossy, and I never thought I’d say this, but can you please take back the reins of leadership here? Your loser boyfriend—”

“Sam!” Hayley hissed.

Rafe only rolled his eyes. “As you can tell, Sam and I have not miraculously become BFFs in the last couple of days. I’m sure Maya will have lots of ideas and plans, Samantha. But she just got here and—”

“Hey,” said a quiet voice from the doorway.

I turned. There stood Nicole. For a moment I thought I was seeing things. Hoped I was seeing things.

“Hey, Nic,” Rafe said. “Look who’s here.”

He pulled me up and smiled at us, and I had to stare at him for a moment before remembering. He didn’t know. No one knew except . . .

I glanced at Sam.

She flushed and mouthed, “Sorry,” then whispered under her breath, “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Do about what?” Hayley asked.

Nicole stood there, looking confused. Looking like the same Nicole I’d known for ten years. Sweet and shy and uncertain. The girl Serena took under her wing, trying to boost her confidence. The girl I’d pushed Daniel toward after Serena’s death, thinking she was just the thing to help him get over her. The girl I’d struggled to befriend, even if we didn’t have much in common, feeling guilty that we couldn’t get closer when she seemed to need a friend so much after Serena died.

Now I looked at Nicole and I saw that girl, and I started wondering if I’d misjudged. If Sam and I had drawn the wrong conclusion. There was no way this girl could have done what we thought.

Except I’d seen another girl in Nicole a few days ago. The one who’d lashed out at the campsite when I’d refused to rescue her. The one who’d tried to get me captured, too. Who’d shouted at Moreno to shoot me. To kill me.

What mattered more to me was who we thought Nicole had killed. Serena.

“Get out of here,” I said, barely able to open my jaw enough to get the words out.

Rafe looked surprised at first but seeing my face, that melted away and his own face hardened. He turned to Nicole.

“What’d you do?” he said.

“Wh-what did I do?” she squeaked. Her blue eyes rounded and she flinched, like a whipped puppy seeing a raised hand. “I-I don’t understand.”

“What’s going on here?” Hayley said.

“She . . .” I clenched my fists tighter and my face started to throb, as if I was about to shift. I took a deep breath and tried to find calm so I could explain.

“I-I don’t understand,” Nicole said again, tears welling up.

“Oh, stuff the theatrics,” Sam said. She turned to the others. “Nicole killed Serena.”

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