Page 10

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Author: Eden Beck

Category: Paranormal

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“And he would’ve deserved it,” I mutter.

This time, Marlowe doesn’t disagree.

“I mean, Rory,” he says, shrugging at the eldest of us, “I’m kind of on Kaleb’s side here. That guy, if we’d killed him …” He shrugs again. “Let’s just say I d

on’t think he’d be missed.”

Of course, Rory isn’t so easily convinced.

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“Or,” he says, sharply, “he could have turned out to be a member of a rival pack. You never know these days. If we’d killed him …”

“Stop.”

There’s a warning in Marlowe’s voice now. It’s different than Rory’s. Less measured.

“Come on, Rory,” he says. “You know we would have sensed it.”

“Not with that damn girl stinking up the place,” Rory snarls.

My whole body tenses. Rory’s eyes are fixated on the road, but it’s clear his mind is elsewhere.

“So that’s what you call it?” I lean forward and draw in a breath so deep it rattles my lungs. When I let it out, it rushes out of me like a longing sigh. “That scent …”

“Careful now,” Marlowe says, “or you’ll get drunk on it.”

I peek open my eyes at him. We’ve almost gotten to school already, but Rory seems to have slowed the car. He’s no longer racing to the parking lot like a madman on the run. He still sits rigidly in the driver’s seat, but I can tell he too is watching Marlowe out of the corner of his eye.

There’s a glint in Marlowe’s eye that I haven’t seen in a while.

He sits forward as well, that glint completing the conspiratorial note in his hushed voice.

“That scent … that girl …”

“Marlowe …”

We both ignore Rory.

“That girl,” Marlowe continues, “carries a scent with her that we’d be fools to ignore. Tell me Rory, honestly now, have you ever smelled anything like it?”

Smelled.

That doesn’t seem to be the right word, but it has the right effect on Rory.

Though I didn’t think it was possible, he stiffens even more.

“Come on Marlowe, it was probably just something spoiled in there. You know how they keep that place.”

“I’d recognize the scent of rot,” Marlowe snaps. “This wasn’t it.”

I scoot even further forward in my seat. I can feel the same fire in my eyes that I see in Marlowe’s. My hands reach forward to clap onto either of Rory’s shoulders. He flinches, but the car stays firmly in the middle of the one-lane road.

“You know what that scent is, don’t you?”

I try to keep my voice light, but a note of accusation somehow pushes through still.

“Rory, come on.” I play on his one weakness. “You know this all so much better than we do. Tell us you don’t know what that was.”

Marlowe’s gaze shifts to me for half a second, and as much as I know it pains him to do it, he plays along.

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