Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,70

from him. “You’re wrong.”

He gave me a patient look. “Lying’s an acquired talent. Takes years to master. I should know. Bishop knows the truth, doesn’t he? It’s one of your lovey-dovey secrets. Something I’m betting my bottom dollar that he told you not to reveal to any of the rest of us. Cue dramatic music.”

I needed to stay calm and not give anything away. He was just fishing, looking for information. Trying to read my expression. Kraven, despite his troubled past, was a demon. A troublemaker. He wanted to make this difficult for me. It was in his nature.

“Whatever, Kraven,” I said smoothly. We’d reached my house and I didn’t hesitate to go up the driveway. I stopped at the front door before I braved another look at him. “You seem to know everything, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately not. But I know enough. I’ve seen enough.” He swept his gaze down the front of me. “All that supernatural energy in such a petite body. You’d think it might burst right out of the seams.”

He knew. Without even saying the exact words, without any confirmation from me, he’d figured out my secret. Bishop had put such fear into me about anyone finding out. I was frozen to the spot, unable to move.

I turned away from him to face my front door, trying to figure out a way to fish into my jeans and pull out my dagger. I reached for the waistband.

He grabbed my wrist. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. And you don’t have to make a pathetic attempt to reach for your little weapon. I mean, let’s not get insulting here.”

“I can zap you even without a weapon,” I said through clenched teeth.

“You can try. But it would be a waste of time. I’m not planning on telling anyone your little secret, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

I turned to face him. “Maybe I don’t trust you.”

“Smart girl. And you’re smart not to trust my brother, either. If you’re not careful, he might put a knife in your back like he did with me.”

He let go of me, and walked away without a backward glance. I watched until he’d disappeared into the shadows before I scrambled for my key and let myself into the house.

The demon knew my secret.

And the scariest thing was, at this very moment, that was the least of my problems.

Chapter 18

Cassandra knocked quietly on my bedroom door at one o’clock when she got back to the house. “Samantha, are you still awake?”

I pulled my sheets up to my neck and tried to be quiet.

Go away, I thought. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk to anyone.

After a minute, my ruse worked. I listened as she padded down the hall toward the guest room.

I wasn’t a huge fan of hiding from the world and my problems, but tonight I would do just that.

Sleep was elusive, as it usually was lately. I drifted from one nightmare to the next, tossing and turning until I finally woke up just before six o’clock, twisted in my sheets so much it took effort to unravel myself.

I didn’t try to sleep again. Instead, I got up, showered and got dressed.

I choked down a large breakfast in the hope that it would ease my hunger this morning. I didn’t know how it was possible, but I was more hungry after I’d finished than I’d been to start with.

Increased hunger. Increased cold.

Both signs of oncoming stasis.

I wanted to hate Stephen, figuring somehow that might make everything easier, but the fear I’d seen in his eyes last night had quickly worked its way under my skin. I wished he would have let me try to help him. Instead, he’d run in the opposite direction as fast as he could.

We all choose our path to walk. Even by not choosing, we’re still making a choice that will affect our lives for better or worse.

I left the house before Cassandra got up, hoping to avoid any discussions with the angel that might involve what happened last night and the topic of Bishop—because thinking about him right now wasn’t going to help.

It was still bright and early when I got to school—my sanctuary. The place where I felt the most in control of my life. I might not be the most popular kid, not even close, but I knew what to expect. I got good grades, my teachers liked me; I felt like I belonged. Just the sight of the lockers, shiny