The Better to Bite (Howl #1)(13)

I swear it felt like he was looking right at me.

He guided the bike and turned it around, and started driving slowly toward the line.

The girl behind me bumped against my backpack, and I realized it was my turn to get on the bus. I shook my head and stepped forward.

The motorcycle braked two feet away. I didn’t look at the guy as I reached for the bus handle.

“Hey, Anna…”

Rafe’s voice. Like I could ever forget that low rumble. And he’d actually called me Anna, not Chicago. I looked now, unable to help myself. He had the helmet tucked under his arm, and his bright blue eyes were on me.

He didn’t look angry anymore, and just staring at him gave me a weird flash of my dream.

He’d left me to die in that dream.

“Are you getting on the bus, miss?” This slightly annoyed question came from the driver, a middle-aged guy with thinning hair who frowned down at me.

I shook my head, trying to clear away the dream. “Ah, yeah, I—”

“I can give you a ride,” Rafe told me.

I wasn’t sure what to say. The girls behind me slid around and hurried into the bus.

“Come on, Anna…” Rafe’s voice almost teased. “I won’t bite.”

You sure about that?

I stepped away from the bus and could almost hear my dad yelling in my head.

Bad idea. Bad.

But he was tempting. So was the motorcycle.

“Thanks,” I told him, regretfully, “but I’ll just take—”

“My house is right next to your grandmother’s place. Well, not right next to it,” he explained with a shrug, “but about a mile away. I’m the closest neighbor you’ve got.”

That made me feel…I don’t know. Strange. Chill bumps rose on my arms.

“In or out?” The bus driver demanded, definitely irritated with me now. The bus was nearly full, and he was obviously ready to go.

The bike’s motor growled softly. The scent of gym socks stung my nose. No more good seats were left. Just the crappy ones that would have me shoved up against some new “friend” that I didn’t really want to know.

My chin lifted. “Out,” I said, and turned to fully face Rafe.

A half-smile stretched his lips then. Dimples didn’t flash—not like Brent’s smile. Rafe’s smile held more of a dangerous edge.

Trouble. That’s exactly what he was.

He gave me an extra helmet. “Climb on,” he told me, “and hold tight.”

He shoved my books and backpack into the saddlebag. I’d worn a skirt again, probably not best for motorcycle riding, and when I climbed on the bike, the fabric hiked up a bit.

“Nice,” he muttered, and his gaze lifted from my leg to my face.

I put my arms around him. I could feel his muscles beneath my hands.

Nice. I managed to hold back my own compliment. Barely. I was working on the blurting tendency.

He pulled on his helmet, and the motorcycle flew forward.

I held on as tight as I could, and I realized I was smiling.

Faces passed me in a quick blur. Cassidy, Jenny, Valerie, Troy—then we were out of the parking lot, and Rafe drove us along the snaking curves that led back to my house. The wind whipped against my body, and I felt so good that I wanted to laugh. Riding free, fast, oh, it was perfect, so good.

The woods surrounded the rode, sometimes thickening so much that it seemed as if we were traveling through a tree tunnel. Light dimmed as the sunlight became trapped in the tops of the trees. And still the motorcycle ate up the road.

He eased into Deadman’s Bend—Jenny had told me it was called that cause of all the accidents there late at night—but Rafe pulled out easily with a perfect slide, and kept driving fast.

I didn’t talk. No point in it then with the wind roaring around us. I just held on, and I didn’t worry about a thing&helip;

Or, at least, I didn't worry, not until the motorcycle slowed down, and Rafe turned onto an old dirt road. A road that didn’t lead to my house, a road that seemed to lead right into the woods.

Don’t go into the woods.

He braked, killed the engine, and yanked off his helmet.

He glanced at me with a glittering gaze. “We need to talk.”

Um, right. I was getting that. I took off my helmet, much more slowly than he had. “I-I thought you were taking me home.”

“I am.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “But first I need to ask you something.”

Even the birds seemed to have stopped chirping. “Ask.” My heart beat too hard in my chest.

His gaze searched mine. “You were bleeding when I found you the other day.”

I nodded. I hadn’t expected that question.

“Were you bitten?”

Why, was he going to take me in for a rabies shot?

“Were you bitten?” Seated together on the motorcycle, he had to be close to me. Only inches separated our faces. The gold in his eyes looked darker than before.

“No, no, I wasn’t.” My voice sounded a little husky.

“Are you sure?” There was a hard intensity in his voice and eyes. “This is real important, and I have to know the truth.”

Fine, fine. I yanked up my sleeve and showed him my bandage. “Just a claw mark, okay? His claws caught me when I fell—”