I showedMargo around until it got dark. We stopped in front of a streetlight. “Want to get some food?” I asked. “There’s a nice hidden pizza place a couple of streets away from here. We could try that or something else.”
“Pizza’s fine.” She bit her lip again. “Dorian, thanks for today. I was being miserable earlier, but I feel a lot better now.”
I wanted to tell her things I shouldn’t tell anyone. Forgot about all of that when her hand tugged on my jumper, pulling me closer. I cupped her cheek—she was so cold—and leaned in to kiss her. I smelled her shampoo, tasted her lip balm, and my wolf went very still.
She pulled back slightly, our noses almost touching. “I do like you, Dorian.”
I kissed her again, wishing we were anywhere but on a public street. Her stomach rumbled, and I leaned back, grinning. “Food first, then.”
She grinned, took my hand, then let me lead the way. We had almost made it to the restaurant when my wolf whined in alarm, and a chill wrapped around me. Margo stumbled to a stop.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m just really…” She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing heavily. Then her face went slack.
I shivered. The cold was setting in again. “Margo?”
She opened her eyes. They were blue. She didn’t see me anymore.
“Margo?”
“Hmm?” She walked in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” I followed her, feeling as though her mystery were unravelling before my eyes. “Margo, wait.”
She moved quickly, as though she knew exactly where she was going. This from the girl who hadn’t been able to find her own house. Doubts nudged at me, and the wolf paced, agitated.
“Can you hear me?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said in a dull voice.
I wondered if she was being possessed, if the spirit was attached tohersomehow. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” she said softly.
“I told you… this isn’t the way.”
But I followed her anyway.
Her pace upped until we had almost reached the bridge of the canal. Not wolf territory, but the scents in the air were too familiar. My skin itched.
A group of townies had gathered on the bridge, laughing and jeering each other. Adam lifted Emma into the air, showing off. He teased her frequently, probably just to get his hands on her. But this time, he hung her over the edge of the bridge.
“That’s so stupid,” I muttered.
The canal wasn’t so deep, but the bridge had a big drop, and the water was likely freezing. And Margo slowly lifted her hand, her fingers stretching as she reached toward the canal.
A sudden sense of foreboding gripped me, and I dropped my bag. I saw the scene play out in my mind right before Emma slipped out of Adam’s hands with a terrified cry. He grasped empty air as her scream pierced my ears. I threw off my jacket and shoes and was racing toward the canal before the others could even react.
I heard the splash of water, the brief second of silent shock, and then everyone was leaning over the bridge, shouting Emma’s name as though that would help her.
She didn’t resurface. I leapt in and was immediately pulled under the surface. The water tasted filthy. It was dark and murky, and I couldn’t use my scent to find the girl. I caught sight of a flash of red. Her shoes. I swam closer. She was stuck in the reeds, entangling herself in her panic.
I caught hold of her hands to calm her. She clung to me, weighing me down. I ripped the reeds apart, freeing her, but she held on to me. The water pushed us back, and I fought hard to move us both to safety, avoiding debris in the darkness. My lungs burned, and her mouth opened. I pushed up through the water until we broke free, Emma gasping and crying and choking all at once. Blood glistened on her forehead.
“It’s okay,” I said, struggling to lift her out of the water and onto the dirt. Somebody hauled her out. I climbed out and pulled off her wet jacket.
People were surrounding us, talking, not making sense, so I broke out of the crowd with Emma in my arms and raced over to Margo to get my dry jacket to wrap around Emma.