Dark Kiss

He let go of my hand as we walked, and the chill I’d felt before began to set in again.

“It’s already fading,” Bishop said, his expression tense.

“What? The light?”

“No, my sanity. So we’d better make this quick.”

“But you feel okay when you touch me?”

He looked disturbed. “Yes.”

“Fine. Then, here.” I held out my hand to him, and when he entwined his fingers with mine again, I was filled by that incredible, blissful heat—and, thankfully, no disturbing vision this time.

He smiled at me. “Much better.”

My face heated up right along with the rest of my body.

I’d been certain the light was coming from the movie theater. Instead, it led us to an alley behind a fast-food restaurant. When we turned the corner, the light disappeared as if someone had flicked off a switch. Weird.

At the end of the short alley, a tall kid with dark blond hair rummaged noisily through an overflowing Dumpster. He looked about the same age as Bishop. I grimaced as he put something in his mouth and started chewing. It looked like a half-eaten hamburger.

Um, gross.

Bishop had stopped in place and was staring at the kid with an expression on his face I couldn’t put a name to. Confusion, doubt and something else. Something bleak.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

His shoulders tensed and he looked at me. “It will be.”

“Well, good. I assume you know that kid?”

“Don’t worry about him.” He leaned over and looked deep into my eyes. He took my other hand in his, as well. A breath caught in my chest.

“Okay, I won’t worry,” I said.

“I really don’t understand this.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“You saw the searchlight when I couldn’t.” He frowned, as if trying to make sense of it all. “You were sent to help me when I needed it most—when I’d nearly given up hope. Thank you.”

I couldn’t help but grin at how dramatic he was being. “You’re very welcome.”

His expression turned tense, and he let me go so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance. It helped break me out of my current daze.

“It’s strange. I thought for a second that you—” His dark brows drew together before he shook his head.

“You thought for a second … what?”

“Something bad. But it’s nothing.” He turned to look at the Dumpster-diving kid before returning his gaze to mine. “You need to go now, Samantha.”

I inhaled sharply. “What?”

He took a step back as if forcing himself to put some space between us. “I need to talk to him alone.”

The distance between us helped to clear my head a little. “But—”

“Just go. And forget you ever met me.”

It felt like I’d just been punched in the gut, and it took me a moment to catch my breath. The cold splash of a raindrop hit my face.

He wanted me to forget I’d met him. But I kind of thought that we …

That we what? Had a connection because a good-looking but kind of crazy guy had called me beautiful? Because he’d said I was special?

My second bee sting of the weekend hurt like hell.

“Fine.” My chest ached. “I guess you should grab your friend before he finds a dead rat to nibble on.”

There was a sliver of regret in his blue eyes—or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He’d gotten what he needed from me and now he was giving me the brush-off. “Goodbye, Samantha.”

“Whatever.” I swallowed hard, then turned and walked away, forcing myself not to look back.

But even as I left the alley, my steps slowed.

Was he some milk-carton missing kid? Did he need professional help to deal with his mental issues? And who was the garbage-eating boy in the alley Bishop had needed a beam of light in order to find? I couldn’t just walk away and forget all about this without having any of my questions answered. Even if he didn’t want me around, I had to find out what was going on.

Ignoring the sharp needles of cold rain, I returned to the small alley and peered around the corner. The boys were close enough for me to hear them.

The other kid finally noticed Bishop and abandoned his secondhand meal, dropping the remains of the burger to the dirty, wet ground. “Who are you?”

Bishop didn’t speak right away. He cleared his throat first. “You don’t know me?”

“No, should I?”

“My name’s Bishop,” he said evenly. “I’m here to help you.”

The other boy eyed Bishop warily. “How are you going to help me?”

“Do you remember who you are? Do you remember anything at all?”

The boy ran a hand through his dirty blond hair, now damp from the rain, his expression tight and uncertain. “I woke up three days ago in a park north of here with no idea how I got there.”

“I know how.”

Relief flooded the kid’s expression. “Yeah? And you can help me?”

Another moment of hesitation. “That’s my job. Come closer.”