So everybody has to walk on eggshells around her because otherwise she'll just take off-"
"Okay, that's it. I'm not listening to any more of this." Aunt Nan waved a hand at Claire, then turned around to shoo Uncle Jim out of her path. Tm going to clean up the dinner table. If you two want to fight, do it quietly."
"No, it's better if they do their homework," Uncle Jim said, moving slowly. "Both of you, do your homework, okay?" He looked at Jez in a way that was probably meant to be commanding, but came out wistful. "And tomorrow come home on time."
Jez nodded. Then both adults were gone, but Claire was staring after them. Jez couldn't be sure, but she thought there were tears in her eyes.
Jez felt a pang. Of course, Claire was dead on about the leeway Aunt Nan and Uncle Jim gave her. And of course, it wasn't fair to Claire.
I should say something to her. Poor little thing. She really feels bad....
But before she could open her mouth, Claire whirled around. The eyes that had been wet a moment ago were flashing.
"You just wait," she said. "They don't see through you, but I do. You're up to something, and I'm going to find out what it is. And don't think I can't do it."
She turned and stalked out the door.
Jez stood for an instant, speechless, then she blinked and closed the door. She locked it. And then for the first time since she'd seen the ghoul, she allowed herself to let out a long breath.
That had been close. And Claire was serious, which was going to be a problem. But Jez didn't have time to think about it now.
She turned the clock radio on her nightstand to a rock station. A loud one. Then she flipped the covers off the foot of the bed and knelt.
The boy was lying facedown, with one arm stretched over his head. Jez couldn't see any blood. She took his shoulder and carefully rolled him over.
And stopped breathing.
"Hugh."
Chapter 5
The boy's light hair was longish, falling over his forehead in disarray. He had a nice face, serious, but with an unexpected dimple in his chin that gave him a slightly mischievous look. His body was nicely muscled but compact; standing, Jez knew, he'd be no taller than she. There was a large bump coming up on his forehead, just under the falling hair. The ghoul had probably slammed him against something.
Jez jumped up and got a blue plastic cup full of water from her nightstand. She grabbed a clean T-shirt from the floor and dipped it into the water, then she gently brushed back the hair from the boy's forehead.
It was silky under her fingers. Even softer than she would have thought. Jez kept her face expressionless and began to wipe his face with the damp cloth.
He didn't stir. Jez's heart, which was already thumping distinctly, speeded up. She took a deep breath and kept wiping.
Finally, although it probably didn't have anything to do with the water, the boy's dark eyelashes moved.
He coughed, breathed, blinked, and looked at her.
Relief spread through Jez. "Don't try to sit up yet."
"That's what they all say," he agreed, and sat up. He put a hand to his head and groaned. Jez steadied him.
"I'm fine," he said. "Just tell the room to stop moving." He looked around the room, bunked again and suddenly seemed to focus. He grabbed her arm, his eyes wide. "Something followed me-"
"A ghoul. It's dead."
He let out his breath. Then he smiled wryly. "You saved my life."
"And I don't even charge," Jez said, embarrassed.
"No, I mean it." His smile faded and he looked straight at her. "Thank you."
Jez could feel heat trying to rise to her face, and she had a hard time holding his gaze. His eyes were gray and so intense-fathomless. Her skin was tingling.
She looked away and said evenly, "We should get you to a hospital. You might have a concussion."
"No. I'm okay. Let me just see if I can stand up."
When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, "Jez, you don't know why I'm here. It can't wait."
He was right; Jez had been so intent on getting him conscious that she hadn't even wondered what he was doing here. She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. She helped him up, and let go of his arm when she saw he could stand without falling over.
"See, I'm fine." He took a few steps, then made a circuit of the room, loosening his muscles. Jez watched him narrowly, ready to grab him if he fell. But he walked steadily except for a slight limp.
And that wasn't from his encounter with the ghoul tonight, Jez knew. He'd had the limp from childhood, from when the werewolves took his family.
How he'd been able to get over that and join Circle Daybreak, Jez would never know.
He'd lost his parents almost as young as she had. He'd lost his two sisters and his brother, too. His entire family had been on a camping trip atLake Tahoe , when in the middle of the night they'd been attacked by a pack of werewolves. Renegade 'wolves, hunting illegally because Night World law wouldn't let them kill as often as they liked.
Just like Jez's old gang.
The 'wolves had ripped through theDavis family's tents and killed the humans, one, two, three. Easy as that. The only one they left alive was seven-year-old Hugh, because he was too little to have much meat on his body. They had just settled down to eat the hearts and livers of their victims, when suddenly the one too little to be worth eating was dashing at them with a homemade torch constructed of kerosene-soaked underwear wrapped around a stick. He was also waving a silver cross on a chain the werewolves had torn from his sister's neck.
Two things werewolves don't like: silver and fire. The little boy was attacking with both. The 'wolves decided to kill him.