As she slipped into the seat, she heard the were say, "Oh, boy. Extra light now the glowworm has shown up."
Kylie gritted her teeth and stared at the book on her desktop.
"Bitch," Della muttered from across the room.
Kylie, suddenly angry with herself for letting Della fight her battles, swung around and faced her nemesis. "In addition to glowing, I've discovered other new talents. Here's one you're going to love-giving smart-ass weres the mange. Especially ones that still slightly reek of skunk."
Chuckles escaped from several of the nearby students. Fredericka rose defensively from her seat, her eyes glowing a shade of pissed-off orange.
Seeing the fury in the wolf-crazed gaze, Kylie questioned the wisdom of spouting off her mouth. No doubt about it, she was about to get her ass whupped by a were-and on the first day of school. How special was that?
Chapter Thirty-three
"Sit down!" Mr. Yates's order echoed through the room. "Kill each other on your own time, not mine."
Kylie turned around, surprised the suspicious teacher hadn't let the she-wolf take her out.
The tension still hung thick when he started teaching. Facing forward, Kylie debated if she would get a pencil stabbed in her back from Fredericka.
But nothing happened. Mr. Yates started talking about how adrenaline can create strength in humans, and how it partly explained how supernaturals received their powers. His teaching skills were above average, and he had everyone hanging onto his every word. Even Kylie found it hard not to be enthralled. Yet everything in Kylie's gut told her he hadn't come here to teach. And considering Hannah's warning that the killer was here, Kylie wasn't about to let down her guard.
Her need to stay on guard shot up a notch when the class ended and she was half out the door and she heard him clear his throat.
"Kylie, stay a few minutes."
Kylie froze, her back still to him. Della, equally wary of the man, leaned in and whispered, "I'll be right outside the door."
Pulling her books closer to her chest, remembering she suspected the tall thirty-something teacher of being a serial killer, she moved back into the room with caution.
"Did I do something wrong?" An image of the three girls, their decomposed bodies in that grave, filled her mind. What kind of evil person did that?
"No-well, yes. As a protector, you shouldn't pick a fight with a were."
"She started it," Kylie said, and frowned at how juvenile that sounded. But this man gave her the creeps and brought out the worst in her.
His concern was touching-not-but she suspected there was more to this little chat. "Is that all?"
"I feel as if we got off on the wrong foot." Sincerity, a heavy dose of it, seemed to flow from him, but Kylie didn't buy it for a second. If an evil person without a conscience could lie to a vampire, he could also fake his emotions.
He continued, "I'd like to believe you would trust me."
Had he told Hannah and the other two girls the same thing? Did he get them to trust him and then wrap his hands around their necks and choke the life out of them? She could swear he looked at her throat.
Chills spread down her spine. She heard the sound of the other campers leaving the area. Was Della still outside the door? If she screamed, would Della be able to get here in time to save her?
"I don't trust very easily," Kylie said.
"I got that feeling." He took a step toward her.
She took a step back, his presence making it hard to breathe. "You know what else I don't do?" Her heartbeat played to the tune of fear, but she fought not to let it show.
He laced his fingers together. She couldn't help wondering if he was remembering how it had felt to use his hands as weapons.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Let anyone hurt someone I love." Kylie listened again, and there wasn't a sound coming from outside. The only noise bouncing off the freshly painted walls was the whishing noise of the ceiling fan.
Had Della left?
He tilted his head to the side. "What are you accusing me of doing?"
"What have you done?" Kylie fed her lungs a mouthful of air and held it.
"Nothing," he said.
Liar! She could feel it, feel him hiding the truth. "Like I said, I don't trust very easily." She turned her back on him, and with each step, she expected to feel him snatch her back, to feel his hands wrap around her throat, choking the life out of her the way he'd done the others.
* * *
Three days later, after suffering through yet another Hayden Yates class, unable to think of anything except the threat this man posed to Holiday, Kylie stormed into the office. Burnett and Holiday were arguing again; she heard them before she reached the porch, but she didn't care.
Well, she did care, just not enough to quiet the alarm blaring inside her. Hayden Yates was hiding something. That something was probably murder. And until Kylie could make Burnett and Holiday see this, Holiday's life was in jeopardy.
Walking right into Holiday's office, Kylie slammed the door behind her. "I don't like him."
"Me either," Burnett roared.
Holiday cut her eyes from Kylie to Burnett. "You two aren't even talking about the same person."
Kylie looked at Holiday for an explanation. Holiday obliged. "Blake has offered to help look into Hannah's disappearance. He was the last person to see her alive, so I think we should accept his help."
"A suspect helping with the investigation, that makes about as much sense as fried ice cream."
Holiday leaned her elbows on her desk. "You can't find one thing that points to his guilt."
"He slept with your sister!" Burnett roared.
"Guilty of murder, not of being a piece of shit."
"And I'm telling both of you," Kylie said, "Hayden is guilty."
"There's no proof of that," they said at the same time.
"He wears a glove over his emotions. Every time he opens his mouth to speak, half truths come out. I feel it."
Burnett shook his head. "I've dug so deep into his background, I can practically tell you when he stopped wearing diapers."
Holiday's chair squeaked. "Kylie, if Hayden was out to hurt me, he's had plenty of opportunity. I interviewed him the first time when I was away taking care of my aunt's funeral. It was just him and me."
Kylie frowned. "I don't care. I still-"
"Both of you are wrong," Holiday insisted. "Blake didn't do this, and neither did Hayden. And if we don't stop focusing on them, we'll never find the killer. And we might never find Hannah's and the other two girls' bodies."