Page 91 of A Killing Cold

At every step I expect to be spotted, but the woods are empty. I reach the cabin and try the knob—unlocked—and burst inside without knocking.

Sebastian is on the floor with his dinosaurs. Paloma is at the table, hands wrapped around a mug. Alexis stands at the side of the room, a thumbnail tucked between her teeth. All of them are staring at me.

“Theo, what—” Alexis starts, and then Paloma leaps from the chair, running to gather Sebastian in her arms. I realize I’m still holding the knife, brandishing it out in front of me.

I lower it. I shut the door with my foot and hold up my other hand, palm out. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Then put that knife away,” Paloma snaps, backing away to put the couch between us. Sebastian squirms in her arms.

“I can’t,” I say. “Look, I don’t have time to explain everything. Is Connor back yet?”

“Connor? He never left,” Alexis says, confused. “We thought you went to Datura with Mr. Vance.”

I blink, shake my head, confusion spilling through me. I can’t sort the lies from the truth anymore. “Do you know where he is?”

“At White Pine, I think,” Alexis says. “What’s going on?”

“I need to talk to him,” I say. “I need one of you to go and get him. Don’t tell anyone else that I’m here. Please.”

They look at each other. Paloma’s grip on Sebastian tightens. “We can go get him. You wait here,” she says softly.

“No,” I say, wishing I could trust them. “Only one of you goes. The other one stays with me.” I don’t make it a threat, but they both understand. They exchange another look.

“You go,” Alexis says. “Take Bastian.”

“Right,” Paloma says. “Come on, honey.” She walks toward me slowly, shifting Sebastian to the other side of her body.

“Here,” Alexis says softly, holding out Paloma’s coat. Her hand touches Paloma’s briefly.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I remind her. “Please. It’s not safe.”

Paloma considers me. Then she nods. “I’ll send Connor and I won’t say anything to anyone else,” she pledges, and I believe her. Or I want to believe her.

I open the door for her. She flinches away from my approach, and then she’s striding out the door. I watch long enough to be sure that she’s heading in the direction of White Pine before shutting it behind her.

Alexis closes her hands into fists, then releases them. She’s such a small woman. Bird-boned. I find myself considering how easily I could overpower her.

“You’re hurt,” Alexis says. I don’t know what she means, but she puts a hand to her cheek, near her mouth, and when I echo the gesture, my skin is tender.

“I’m sorry about this,” I say. “I just need help. I didn’t actually mean to come in here waving a knife.”

“And yet you’re still holding it,” she says icily.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I can’t take the risk.”

“What risk is that?” she asks. Her voice is level. She’s a woman used to dealing with crises, I’m sure. But at the edges of her hand there’s a faint tremor.

“That you might tell someone where I am,” I say.

“Did you do something?” It’s barely above a whisper. “Did you hurt Olena?”

“No. God, no,” I assure her, and step forward—only to have her stumble back. I almost want to laugh. I’ve been so goddamn afraid. It’s at least a change of pace, someone being afraid of me. “Nick killed Olena.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would he do that?” she demands.

“Because he thought it was me. Look, it’s complicated. And you probably wouldn’t believe me anyway,” I say.

“Try me.” Her chin comes up, defiant. I glance toward the door. It’ll be a few minutes yet before Connor gets here.

---