he did
when I’d left him, in jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. I saw
Xavier’s posture shift subtly into a more defensive stance.
His ocean blue eyes darkened as understanding dawned.
“Beth,” he said slowly. “I want you to get off that bike.”
“Wes?” I tapped him lightly on the shoulder, suddenly
aware that he hadn’t spoken a single word for the entire
duration of my conversation with Xavier. The bike was stil
vibrating beneath me and yet the person in front of me
remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead.
Xavier strained to take a step forward, but something
prevented him and he remained rooted to the spot. He tried
to keep his voice level, but I couldn’t miss the undercurrent
of urgency.
“Beth, did you hear me? Get off now !”
I planted both feet on the ground in order to appease
Xavier, but when I tried to shift my arms from around
Wesley’s waist, he suddenly revved the engine and the bike
shot backward. I had to clutch him even tighter to avoid
fal ing off.
Until that moment I stil thought the whole thing was an
elaborate hoax on Wesley’s part that Xavier failed to find
amusing. Then I saw Xavier run a hand helplessly through
his hair and watched his forehead crease in anguish. I saw
a look in his eyes I hadn’t seen since that fateful afternoon
in the cemetery when he’d been incapacitated and I’d been
captured before his very eyes. He wore that same look now
—the one that told me he was desperately searching for an
escape, even though he knew we were cornered. It was as
if he were facing off against a poisonous snake that might
strike at any moment and the slightest wrong move could
be fatal. Wes spun the bike in random circles, enjoying the
anxiety he was causing. Xavier yel ed out and tried to run
forward but an unseen force held him back. He gritted his
teeth and hurled himself against the invisible barrier
blocking his way, but it was no use. The bike careered
tauntingly in al directions.
“What’s going on?” I cried as the bike final y stopped and
settled into the dust. “Xav, what’s happening?”
We were closer to Xavier now and in his eyes I could see
deep pain, but also anger and intense frustration at his
inability to help me. Now I knew I was in real danger. Maybe
we both were.
“Beth … that’s not Wes.” The words chil ed me to the
core and fil ed me with defeat. I tried letting go of Wesley. I
was ready to throw myself off the bike, but I couldn’t move
my arms. They seemed to be pinned by an invisible force.
“Stop! Let me off!” I pleaded.
“Too late,” Wesley replied, only it wasn’t Wes anymore.
His voice was now slick and smooth, a polished English
accent clearly detectable. That voice had haunted my
dreams for so long, I would have recognized it anywhere.
The body I had my arms wrapped around began to shift
beneath my fingers. The broad, muscled chest and wel -
defined arms shrank to become leaner and colder to the
touch. Wesley’s broad hands became slender and turned
bone white. The backward basebal cap flew off to reveal
lustrous black locks that danced in the wind. For the first
time he twisted his face around to confront me. The sight of
him so close made me sick to my stomach. Jake’s face
hadn’t changed a bit. Black shoulderlength hair contrasted
sharply with the pal or of his face. I recognized the narrow
nose that drooped slightly at the tip and the cheekbones
carved out of rock that had made Mol y once compare him
to a Calvin Klein model. His pale lips parted to reveal smal
and dazzlingly white teeth. Only the eyes were different.
They seemed to pulse with a dark energy, and as I looked
into them I saw that they were neither green nor black as I
remembered but a dul shade of burgundy. Just like the
color of dried blood.
“NO!” Xavier shouted, his face contorted with despair.
His voice was swal owed by the wind on the empty
highway. “GET AWAY FROM HER!”
What
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