Tearing my eyes from the moon, I studied his face again. It still looked slightly misshapen—as though it wanted to be something else…some other shape.
“Nick?” I whispered, shivering at his new, strange alien look as much as the chilly gust of wind that was sweeping through the barn. “Nick, are you okay?”
He seemed to have to tear his eyes away from the moon but he finally looked down at me.
“I…I’m fine,’ he rasped out at last, but I could tell it was a lie.
“No, you’re not,” I protested and dared to lay my hand on his arm, which felt hotter than usual—much hotter—and hard as iron. “What is it, Nick? Please tell me!”
“Just need…I need….” His facial features were shifting frighteningly, trying to change. He gave me a despairing look. “Please, Kira—I can’t…can’t Shift!” he begged hoarsely. “Not now.”
Without my half-formed memories of the past and my father, I would probably have gone crazy with fear. But as it was, I at least semi-understood the problem.
“What can I do to help?” I asked earnestly. “Tell me Nick—what do you need?”
He turned to me, his golden eyes desperate.
“Just need…to hold you.” The words came out in a growl. “Scent…might help.”
“Of course!” I said quickly. “Come on—come here.”
I took him by the arm—which seemed much hairier than it ever had been—and led him quickly to his own sleeping stall. I didn’t take him to mine—I couldn’t bear it. I felt like I would never be able to relax enough to sleep there again—especially after what had almost happened to me. Nick’s stall was closer anyway and his sleeping bag was already unrolled over the thin foam mattress.
I lay down on the sleeping bag and got my big brother to lay down with me. I put my arms around his neck and pillowed his head on my breasts. Stroking his hair, I murmured that everything was okay, that we were together, that we would never leave each other.
My brand burned as I touched him and glowed like I had fastened a living flame to my arm but I didn’t pay it any attention. Something told me I was the only thing standing between Nick and a Shift he didn’t want to make—a Shift that might possibly be dangerous to both of us. So I simply lay there with him, our bodies entwined as I tried to help him calm down and relax.
He gripped me tightly at first and pressed his face into my breasts with a kind of desperation. I felt him breathing—deep, long inhales like someone fighting to get enough air into their lungs. But gradually he started to calm down and his grip on me loosened until we were just lying there together, cuddled up on the sleeping bag like satiated lovers.
“Okay now?” I asked, looking down at him.
He nodded slowly and then looked up at me. His face was normal again, I saw—his eyes had gone back to forest green.
“I should be asking you that.” His voice was slightly hoarse. “Did…did I get to you in time?”
“Barely,” I said grimly. “He was really going to do it, Nick. He was going to…to…”
But I couldn’t put into words what our foster father had almost done to me—had been wanting to do from the moment I came to this horrible house.
“Don’t cry, baby.” Nick reached up to cup my cheek. His head was still pillowed on my breasts and his other arm was wrapped securely around me. “Please, don’t cry.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I was just so scared! That stupid cow, Mrs. Spinkler, dragged me away just at the end of the game because Gary told her Nancy was sick and she wanted me to be with her.”
Nick made a face.
“She’s sick all right, but not like that.” His face darkened. “So is he for that matter. I can’t believe he tried to get at you again! Especially after getting two handfuls of thumbtacks last time. I really thought he’d given up after that.”
“I don’t know if he’ll ever give up,” I said bleakly. “But how did you get to me in time?”
“Well, I was talking to two of the college scouts and my brand started burning, so I knew something was wrong,” Nick told me. “Then that skinny tuba player—what’s his name? I think Carl?” he said.
“Yes, Carl Langerstrom!” I exclaimed. “He saw Gary shoving me into his car and I yelled for him to tell you. But I didn’t think he actually would.”
“Well, he did,” Nick said grimly. “And he told me that Gary shouted some bullshit about taking you home because Nancy was sick. And I knew what that meant.”
“So how did you get back to me in time?” I asked.
Nick shrugged.
“Told the college scouts that I’d play for whoever got me home as fast as possible.” He made a face. “I had to say my mom was sick, since that was what Carl had already said. One of them agreed to take me, so now I’m going to play for University of Georgia when I graduate. Go Bulldogs.”