Salem, North Carolina
Megan Hales could feel her heart pounding, her pulse beating in her ears, a panicked, fluttery sensation that stole her breath.
I need to leave. I need to get out of here.
She had to move fast. Before he could stop her.
Even with the stark uneasiness driving her, she kept telling herself that was stupid, he wouldn’t do that, there was no reason he would . . . but she kept remembering a look in his eyes the day before, something undefined that had caused her to go cold all of a sudden.
Fear. She was afraid of him.
The sense of safety she’d always felt in Salem, in the house where she’d grown up, was gone. The familiar bedroom felt weirdly alien, as if all the lights were on too bright, hurting her eyes. The silence thrummed in her ears, and her fingers felt awkward as she hurried.
Hands shaking, she crammed clothing into the larger of her two bags and managed, with an effort, to zip it closed, the sound loud and ragged in the early-morning silence.
She froze for a moment, listening, then pulled the bag off her tumbled bed. Her duffel bag sat waiting, also stuffed with her things, and as she hooked the strap over her shoulder she spared a brief moment to wish she didn’t have to leave so much behind.
Enough. Enough of that. She had to leave.
Now.
She carried both bags through the silent house, desperate not to make any noise at all. Just enough of the dawn light came through the windows to show her the way so she didn’t run into furniture or bang one of the bags against the wall or a doorjamb. She wasn’t sure whether she drew a full breath until she was outside in the grayish and muggy summer morning, the front door closed silently behind her.
Megan paused only a moment, still aware of the pounding of her heart even as she told herself he couldn’t possibly know she intended to leave today. No one could. And even if he had some idea, it was so early, way earlier than she ever got up, and why would he even be up himself, much less be out here in the valley near her home?
He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t.
She had parked her car in the driveway’s turnaround the night before, making sure she wasn’t blocked in by any of the family cars. Still trying to be as quiet as possible, she put both bags in the back seat of her little Chevy and eased the door shut again.
It was so . . . still. Unusually hot for early morning, even in July, the humid air promised a storm later. She stood beside her car, nervous fingers toying with the strap of her handbag and then diving inside to find her keys.
She looked down at her hand, at the diamond engagement ring winking in the faint light, and pain throbbed through her, jagged and raw. She had been so excited, so certain that all her plans—all their plans—would lead them along the path to a happy life.
Today should have been her wedding day.
And now . . . she felt lost, suddenly rudderless, the whole rest of her life stretching out empty and lonely.
But that was just here in Salem, she told herself. There was nothing here for her now. Not anymore.
Still, she hesitated, breathing in the scents of honeysuckle and cut grass and, faintly, the neighboring stables. It smelled like summer in Salem. It smelled like home. She was vaguely surprised by the sudden intense regret she felt. Because it didn’t have to be forever, of course it didn’t. She could come back. One day. Maybe.
All she had to do—
“Megan.”
Her pounding heart lodged suddenly in her throat, and she swallowed as she forced herself to turn, to conjure a faint surprised smile.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
She glanced around at the gray morning that was just beginning to brighten and forced out a little laugh. “At the crack of dawn?”
“You’re up,” he pointed out, taking a step closer.
She wanted to ask how he’d known she would be, but part of her didn’t want that answer. He had Talents, she knew that. Strange Talents. He was staring at her, eyes intense in his otherwise calm face, and she couldn’t help shifting her weight uneasily.
“I can’t talk right now,” she said. “I . . . have an appointment in town. Made it days ago. I really don’t want to be late.” She could hear her voice shake.
Stupid. Stupid. Should have left last night.
“You’re packed for a trip,” he said.
Forcing surprised carelessness into her voice, she said, “Just for a week or so. I told you I might leave. For a while.” She felt cold suddenly, wondering if that was why he was here. But what could he do, after all? It wasn’t like he had any right to stop her.
“You can’t go,” he said.
“It’s just for a while,” she repeated. “I told you. I’d rather not watch everybody trying to think of something . . . kind . . . to say to me. Watch them feel sorry for me. It’s better if I get away for a while.”
She held her keys in one hand and fumbled with the other behind her for the driver’s-side door. “I’ll call you,” she added brightly.
“You can’t go,” he repeated.
Megan wanted to maintain her forced unconcern, but her heart was pounding harder than before, she felt cold even in the muggy air, and some instinct she’d never before been aware of urged her to move quickly, to get away from him.
Never mind being polite, being reasonable.
Just move.
He looked suddenly unfamiliar in the grayish morning light, oddly . . . blurred. Except for his eyes. Those sharp, intense, strangely colored eyes. It had been exciting at first, having his focused gaze on her, looking at her in a way no one ever had before, as if nothing had existed for him except her. Seeing her, she’d thought, so clearly. But now all she felt was the overwhelming need to escape.
“I’ll call you,” she repeated, and forced herself to turn her back on him, a strange crawly sensation creeping over her body, all her muscles tensing. Weird. It was so weird—
“No.”
Megan tried to pull the car door open, but it was as if all the strength drained out of her in a rush and she couldn’t move suddenly, couldn’t do anything but look down at her own hand, watch it shake, watch his much larger one covering hers, tightening until she wanted to cry out in pain.
Why couldn’t she move?
“No, Megan,” he said almost sadly. “I can’t let you leave Salem. I can’t let you leave me.”
The gray, muggy morning was abruptly so cold her whole body ached, and the familiar smells were gone. All she could smell now was something sharp, acrid, something that was utterly strange and yet . . . not. It was something she thought she should recognize, even though she knew she had never smelled it before.
Something that terrified her.
She opened her mouth to scream but the only sound that escaped her tight throat was a thready, childlike whimper.
Darkness closed over her.