Dreamwalkers by Kate Spofford Page B

me questions.
You’re giving me hypothetical situations. There’s a big
difference.”
    “I think hypothetical situations can tell a
lot about a person.”
    “I think real situations can tell a lot about
a person. Hypotheticals only tell you what the person thinks of
themselves.”
    I settle back in my seat, unwilling to
concede that he has a point. Yes, actions speak louder than words.
Fine.
    “Here’s what I’ve learned from this real
situation.” I begin counting on my fingers. “You don’t want to talk
about yourself. You don’t trust me. And I don’t trust you.”
    Remy opens his mouth to talk, closes it,
takes a deep breath, then speaks. “Here’s what I’ve learned from
your answers. You know you’re strong. You think you’re smart. You
think you’re tough. You don’t want to admit that you’re attracted
to me.” He gives me a short sidelong look. “But you haven’t been
tested.”
    “You don’t know anything about me!”
    “So you’ve faced a situation where it seemed
like there was no way out, and still found the strength to fight?
You’ve been beaten to where it’d be easier to lie down and die, and
still found the strength to stand?”
    I don’t answer. Instead, I stare out the
window at the trees and miles flashing past. It’s true. It’s all
true. I haven’t been tested.
    Daniel has.
    And I called him weak.
    A wave of shame crashes through me. How could
I be so mean? I can’t even begin to fathom all the horrors he’s
seen.
    A life of abuse, for starters; waking up to
discover you’ve not only murdered all the men in your family, but
literally ripped them to shreds. Maybe even eaten parts of them. I
swallow, turning my mind to other things.
    Leaving home at age thirteen–the age when I
was going into eighth grade and my biggest concern was some jock
asshole calling me a redneck–he was out there, on the roads,
worrying about when he was going to find his next meal, or whether
when he woke up he’d find himself in the middle of a crime
scene.
    In the short period when we traveled
together, he was attacked by a serious serial killer, nearly
starved to death in the snow because I pushed him too hard, killed
a little girl, attempted suicide… and as icing on the cake,
discovered he was a werewolf and had to save his family from enemy
wolves.
    It was enough to make anyone break. So he ran
away from all that responsibility. That didn’t make him weak. He
was still alive, still fighting to survive. Since he left me
    since I didn’t go looking for him
    since I didn’t fight for him
    I shake my head.
    something terrible has happened to him. He
was injured, captured, and now he’s running somewhere.
    And strangely, though I can’t communicate
through our bond because of the distance, I get the sense that he’s
not running away. That he’s on a mission.
    Maybe he’s coming back.
    “I’m not trying to be mean,” Remy says
finally. “I don’t even know how we started talking about this.”
    “Whatever.”
    At least there’s some music to fill the empty
space where a great conversation could be taking place.
    I don’t realize until almost noon that we
aren’t heading home.
    “That sign just said Billings. We’re going
the wrong way!”
    “I’m not going the wrong way.”
    “Can’t you even admit that you’re lost?”
    “We weren’t ever going back to your house,”
Remy says. “Sorry, I was going to tell you earlier in the
trip.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me right from the start?
Was all this some trick to get me alone and vulnerable? For you to
take advantage of me?”
    Remy laughs. “Kayla, I don’t think you could
ever be vulnerable.”
    I glare at him. “Explain. Now.”
    “Okay, okay.” He’s still laughing a little.
“I couldn’t tell you earlier, because you might have accidentally
leaked the real plans to your family. Through the bond. I know
you’d never tell them on purpose, but it’s very hard for bonded
werewolves to lie to each other.