Almost Midnight (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3.5)(109)

“You assume correctly,” she said.

He stood there, a beat of silence too long. “Okay. What are the facts? What kind of school is it?”

Fredericka remembered hearing Holiday set one of the local residents straight about the school and she repeated almost verbatim what she’d said. “It’s a camp and school for the gifted. Teens who are a bit different, but need a place to grow. Since the camp started over four years ago, there hasn’t been one arrest of a student. I doubt that Fallen High School can claim the same.”

He continued to just stand there. “Have you ever been arrested?”

His question stung. “Have you?”

He tensed. “I’m hiring you.”

“Yeah, and I’m working for you, and I even saw the cops show up at your place. But I guess I’m not so fast to judge people.” She tilted her head back. “But to answer your question, no, I have never been arrested.” Her sins had never been reported to local police. And even if they had, she wasn’t sure the courts would have held her as responsible as she herself did.

He inhaled. “The cops weren’t there about me.” His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. I think.” He frowned.

“You think?” she asked. She’d never heard anyone apologize and take it back in the same breath.

“Yeah, I think. I mean, I’m hiring you. I have a right to ask questions.”

“And I’m working for you, so do I not have the same rights?” she asked. And before he answered, and before she considered what she was doing, she tossed the question out that bothered her the most. “Why do you hide your scars from me, but you didn’t from Katie, or the salesclerks?”

He frowned and freed the first helmet, then handed it to her. His gaze met hers and he didn’t turn his cheek this time.

“Maybe I care more about how you see me than how they do?”

His words had her frustration evaporating. And she realized instantly what a hypocrite she was.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.” She heard it in his voice. He hated pity as much as she did.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She paused. “I meant … I shouldn’t call you out for hiding your scars when … I’m…” She pulled her jacket off and tugged her unbuttoned shirt that she always wore over a tank top off her shoulder and down her arm. “When you’re not the only one hiding.”

His gaze widened when he saw the tightly pulled marks the size of a teaspoon that ran up her forearm. She knew the exact shape and size, because it had been a heated teaspoon that had made the marks.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it. He shook his head, his eyes filled with empathy. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She repeated his own words and then pulled her shirt up and slipped the warm leather jacket back on. The realization hit then. She’d never willingly shown anyone her scars. Was it because he had them, too? What exactly was the lure she felt for this guy?

A car pulled into the lot and parked right across from them. Brandon glanced at the car and then looked at her. “Can we talk about this…”

“Later.” She finished for him and nodded.

He put on his helmet and she started to do the same when she heard footsteps approaching from behind her. Her next intake of air brought with it a were scent. The air locked in her lungs as she recognized the trace.

“Fredericka, what are you doing?”





Chapter Seven


Fredericka turned and looked at Cary, now standing right behind her. He stared at the motorcycle helmet she held in her hand, then he looked up at Brandon. His gaze shot to his forehead hidden beneath the helmet.

She knew he wanted to see his pattern, and probably considered it rude for him to be hiding it. Then she saw him lift his head slightly to take a big nose full of air, hoping his scent would tell him Brandon’s species.

From the puzzled look in the teacher’s eyes, she knew he found it as puzzling as she did. Tension built so fast that Fredericka’s mind rushed to find a way to put a stop to what could be a huge disaster.

“Mr. Cannon, this is Brandon,” she spoke quickly. “Brandon Hart, he owns the gallery. I’m helping him get the gallery fixed up for the opening.” Fredericka’s gaze went to Brandon, who looked as puzzled at Cary. “This is Cary Cannon, he’s my history teacher.”

Brandon’s expression softened with the introduction. “Nice to meet you, sir.” He extended his hand.

Cary ignored Brandon’s hand, and his gaze shifted back to her. She saw his eyes start to brighten.

“How is driving around on a motorcycle helping with the gallery?” Cary asked.

Fredericka sensed Brandon’s concern as he dropped his hand. Her own shoulders tightened and she felt her hackles start to rise. Trying not to let emotion brighten her eyes, she blinked and took in a deep breath.

“We were picking out paint,” she said. “And we were leaving,” she added. “So if you will excuse us.” She started putting on the helmet.

“Can I speak with you a second?” Cary caught her elbow. His hold was a bit too tight. She felt her eyes grow warmer, a telltale sign that her eyes were lightening.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Brandon’s gaze go to Cary’s hand grasping her elbow. Not wanting any trouble, she looked at Brandon, praying her eyes were not so bright he’d notice. “Excuse me one second.”