Code(50)

“What the hell are you doing?” Ben slurred, swaying slightly.

I stopped dead. “Ben, it’s okay! We’re just messing around.”

“Out of the way, pal.” Jason pushed Ben’s chest with two hands. “You’re my guest, remember.”

Ben shoved back. “Don’t touch me!”

Jason’s eyes gleamed with too much booze and not enough caution.

Ben never saw the punch.

He went toppling, but was back up in heartbeat. Then he dove forward, slamming Jason to the bricks. Horrified, I watched them roll into the grass, grappling and punching, neither able to gain the advantage.

Time slowed.

Suddenly, Jason went flying.

Ben’s head came up, irises flaming.

Nightmare.

Without thinking, I launched myself at Ben, catching him off guard. The weight of my body knocked him over backward. Never hesitating, I jumped on his chest and started slapping his face.

“Let it go!” I hissed. “Release your flare!”

Jason reached to pull me off, but Hi and Shelton got there first.

They boxed Jason away, grabbed Ben by the shoulders, and hauled him downslope into the yard. Ben tried to get past them, at Jason, but the fire was gone from his eyes. Abruptly he turned and stormed toward the dock.

“I’m going to kill him.” Jason was red-cheeked and breathing heavily. “This is my house!”

“Jason, don’t!” I moved to block his pursuit. “Ben’s drunk and didn’t know what was going on. Please just let it go. For me.”

“Fine.” Jason wiped his nose, checking for blood. “But that jackass isn’t welcome around me anymore. You tell him that.”

“I will. I have to go now.”

As Jason stormed away, I fled the watching, whispering attention of the rest of his guests.




I pointed Sewee into Charleston Harbor, headed for home.

Ben had balked when I’d demanded the keys, but I’d given him no choice. The boys were wasted. I’d driven Sewee before, and knew the basics. And if I scratched her while docking, let that be a lesson.

We’d barely set off when Hi emptied his guts over the side. Shelton tried to clean his glasses, but kept dropping them. Ben was slouched in the copilot’s chair, too dizzy to stand.

“He’s no good for you,” Ben said abruptly. “Doesn’t deserve you.”

“Just be quiet.” Soft. “We’re almost home.”

Ben’s eyes were slits. “That guy, he’s . . .” His hand rose, fell. “Dime a dozen. Doesn’t know anything. About you. The real you.”

Mercifully, Ben trailed off. In moments he was snoring.

I tried not to ignore his words. Ben was drunk. Being super-overprotective. And he never missed a chance to put Jason down.

But he sounds . . . different. Almost jealous.

“It’s the booze talking,” I said to myself as I maneuvered Sewee into the harbor. “Doesn’t mean a thing. Not one thing.”

Then I barked a sour laugh.

A crazed lunatic was forcing us around the city.

My father wanted a bimbo to live in our home.

Chance was watching me, and consorting with Madison.

Canine DNA was hijacking my nervous system, and I had no idea how to stop it.

The last thing I needed was Ben’s dating advice.

“Blargh.”

I wished life could be simple again.

Knew it never would be.

So I motored toward Morris, eager to crawl into bed and fall blissfully asleep. Then I cringed. How would I sneak these dopes past their parents?

“Double blargh.”





CHAPTER 27





Ben was behind the wheel of Kit’s 4Runner.

We were fifteen minutes up Highway 17, heading north through the Francis Marion National Forest. Here, the road traversed a series of sultry, kudzu-draped swamps before reaching the towering woodlands of the park’s interior.

Nine forty-five a.m. The mood was grim.

“I wanna die.” Hi was slumped against a backseat window. “It’s sixty-five in this car, but I’m still sweating my face off.”

Shelton opened his eyes, seemed to consider replying. Didn’t bother.

“Serves you right,” I said from the front passenger seat. “Cannonball! You really made an impression.”

“People loved that cannonball,” Hi whispered. “You can’t take that from me.”

Shelton coughed, lowered his window, then hawked a loogie into space. Thankfully, his aim was true.

Given the shape the boys were in, I’d left Coop at home. The hungover trio looked a few jostles short of redecorating the car with their stomach linings.

Shelton rubbed his face. “Why get drunk if you feel like this afterward? It’s like signing up for food poisoning.”

“Carpe diem.” Hi’s pallor was a sickly green. “Or something. I dunno, kids like getting bombed. Kids are stupid.”

“It’s too dangerous for us.” I made sure Ben was listening. “A Viral can’t afford to lose control, not for a second. Not given our . . . condition.”

Ben kept his bloodshot eyes on the road. He wasn’t about to apologize, and hated being scolded.