The Captive Page 0,21

wind.

Dancing is a very witchy thing-oh, Laurel had been right. Cassie could imagine witches in ages past dancing under the stars to wild sweet music, and then lying down on the soft green grass.

Maybe among Cassie's ancestors there had been some witch-girl who had danced like this in a moonlit glade. Maybe she had danced by herself until she noticed a shadow among the trees and heard the panpipes. And then maybe she and the forest god had danced together, while the moon shone silver all around them....

Cassie could feel the warmth, the course of life, in Adam's arms. The silver cord, she thought. The mysterious, invisible bond that had connected her to Adam from the beginning... just now she could feel it again. It joined them heart to heart, it was drawing them irresistibly together.

The music stopped. Adam moved back just slightly and she looked up at him, cheek and neck tingling with the loss of his warmth. His eyes were strange, darkness just edged with silver like a new moon. Slowly, he bent down so that his lips were barely touching hers-and stayed there. They stood that way for what seemed like an eternity and then Cassie turned her head away.

It wasn't a kiss, she thought as they moved out through the crowd. It didn't count. But there was no way that they could dance together again and they both knew it. Cassie's knees were shaking.

Find some people to join-fast, she thought. She looked around desperately. And to her vast relief she glimpsed a sleek auburn crop and a head of long, light-brown hair interwoven with tiny flowers. It was Melanie and Laurel, in animated conversation with two outsider boys. If they'd seen what happened on the dance floor a minute ago...

But Laurel swung around at Adam's "hello" and said, "Oh, there you are!" and Melanie's smile was quite normal. Cassie was grateful to talk with them while the boys talked about football. Her lightheartedness, inspired by the magic of the dance, began to return.

"There's Deborah. She always gets one dance in before heading off to the boiler room with the Hendersons," Laurel murmured, smiling mischievously.

"What do they do there?" Cassie asked as she followed Laurel's gaze. Deborah was wearing a black micro-mini and a biker's hat decorated with a gold link bracelet. Her hair was mostly in her eyes. She looked great.

"Play cards and drink. But no, not what you're thinking. None of the guys would dare try anything with Deb-she can outwrestle them all. They're just in awe of her."

Cassie smiled, then she spotted someone else, and her smile faded. "Speaking of awesome..." she said softly.

Faye had on a flame-colored dress, sexy and elegant, cut in her usual knockout style. Her hair was black and glossy, hanging untamed down her back. She was like some exotic creature that had wandered onto campus by accident.

Faye didn't see the three girls scrutinizing her. Her entire attention seemed to be focused on Nick.

Cassie was surprised Nick was even here; he wasn't the type to go to dances. He was standing by a blond outsider girl who looked frankly spooked. As Cassie watched, Faye made her way over to him and placed a hand with red-tipped fingers on his arm.

Nick glanced down at the hand and stiffened. He threw a cold glance over his shoulder at Faye. Then, deliberately, he shrugged her hand off, bending over the little blonde, whose eyes widened. Throughout the whole incident his face remained as wintry and remote as ever.

"Uh-oh," Laurel whispered. "Faye's trying to hedge her bets, but Nick isn't cooperating."

"It's her own fault," Melanie said. "She kept after Jeffrey until the last minute."

"I think she's still after him now," said Cassie.

Jeffrey was just coming off the dance floor with Sally. His expression was the exact opposite of wintry; he looked as if he was having a wonderful time, flashing his lady-killing smile in all directions. Proud, Cassie thought, to have the Homecoming Queen on his arm. But it was funny, she thought the next minute, how quickly people stopped smiling when they ran into Faye.

Jeffrey tried to hustle Sally back onto the dance floor, but Faye moved as quickly as a stalking panther and cut them off. Then she and Sally stood on either side of Jeff, like a big, glossy black dog and a little rust-colored terrier fighting over a tall, slim bone.

"That's stupid," Laurel said. "Faye could have almost any guy here, but she only wants the ones who're a challenge."

"Well,