Page 46 of Dark Christmas
We hug tightly, and for the first time tonight, I feel a bit of peace. Claire pulls back. “You want me to make up an excuse for you to lie down?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m good.”
With that, I stand up, still uncertain, but also, determined.
Chapter 23
Melor
The cold air bites as we step out of Claire and David’s place.
I watch Amelia hug Claire tightly, and something about the way Claire whispers, “You’ve got this,” makes me pause. There’s a quiet determination in Amelia’s eyes, but I know her well enough now to see she’s hiding something.
We start walking back to my car, the city around us is quiet and peaceful, wrapped in Christmas lights. Peaceful, at least on the surface. But I can feel the tension radiating off her—like her mind is a million miles away.
“You didn’t eat much at dinner,” I say, glancing over at her. “You okay?”
She flashes me a smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t that hungry, I guess.”
I don’t buy it, but I don’t press. I’ve learned not to push her when she’s got something heavy on her mind. She’ll come to me when she’s ready.
“I like your friends,” I say, keeping it light. “And Pancake’s got energy for days.”
She laughs, a small, quiet sound. “Yeah, Pancake’s a trip.”
Knowing her thoughts are somewhere else is starting to make me uneasy. I glance up and down the street, always scanning, always aware.
Then, I feel it. A shift in the air. Something’s off. I slow down, instinct kicking in, and she mirrors me, confused.
“Keep walking,” I say, my voice low. “Act normal.”
She hesitates for a second before matching my pace. I feel her heart rate pick up, and her breath quickens. “What’s happening?”
I glance back, catching a shadow moving too deliberately. “We’re being followed.”
Her pulse goes into overdrive, but I keep my voice calm. “Pick up the pace. Now.”
I speed up, but she struggles to keep up with my stride. “Melor, your legs—”
“We can’t slow down,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We need to get to the car.”
I see her eyes widen as it sinks in. She’s practically running now, and I glance back again. They’re gaining on us.
A slight stream of traffic makes it impossible to cross the street to safety, so I make a quick decision, pulling her into a nearby store that’s still open. The neon lights flicker as we walk inside and try to blend in with the late-night browsers. I move us toward the counter, scanning the store while Amelia pretends tocasually look around.
I lean in close, my voice barely a whisper. “Stay calm. We’ll be okay.”
She nods slightly, but I can feel the fear rolling off her. Inside, I’m ready for whatever’s coming. Outside, I stay cool.
I flash a smile at the guy behind the counter, though I can see he’s suspicious. Amelia’s still out of breath, which doesn’t help, but she’s quick. All charm, she says, “We just got a new kitten, and of course, we ran out of kitten chow. Little guy eats a lot for something so small.”
The guy softens, her words working like magic. “Let me show you where the cat food is.”
As they head to the back of the store, I stay at the counter, my eyes on the door and windows. No doubt they’re waiting outside, watching. They’re not just keeping tabs; they’re ready. They’re waiting for me to screw up.
They want us to make the first move.
I can feel the tension tightening in my chest. No more time to waste.