The Wild One

Liz heard hangers clicking again. Then silence. Valenti was gone.

She lifted her head and stared down into Max's blue eyes. "I-" she began.

He pressed his fingers against her lips. He was right. It was too soon to talk. They needed to wait until Valenti was farther away.

Max kept his eyes locked on hers as he gently traced the curves of her upper lip with his finger. Then he brushed his thumb across her lower lip.

He continued to explore her face with his hands. He ran his fingers over her chin and around the dimple in her left cheek. He traced the line of her nose and the arc of each of her eyebrows. His touch was so light, like a warm feather caressing her.

And his eyes. His eyes followed the motions of his hands. He studied every detail of her face, almost as if he were trying to memorize it.

Liz couldn't stand it. She had to touch him, too. She lowered her head and brushed his cheek with her own. The rough stubble against her smooth skin made her shiver.

She continued using her face to explore his. She rubbed her nose against Max's and leaned even closer to tickle his eyelashes with her own. A butterfly kiss. That's what she and Maria called touching eyelashes when they were little girls.

Liz moved her head lower and grazed Max's lips with hers. Light and fast. Then she smoothed her chin across his.

Max took a ragged breath and wove his hands through her hair. He pulled her mouth back to his. He ran his tongue across her lips, urging them apart.

There was nothing gentle about his kiss. It was hot and desperate, as if he couldn't stand to wait another second.

Then suddenly he pulled away. "Valenti should be gone," he said.

Liz blinked.

Was he just going to pretend it hadn't happened? Was he really going to try and pretend they were still just friends?

She stared down at Max, but now he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"We have to find Isabel," he said.

Liz slid off him and pushed herself to her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself. It felt so cold without the warmth of Max's body.

Isabel ran her hands down her sides, down the dip of her waist and over the curve of her hips. Yeah, this dress fit. She loved the intricate embroidery that circled the hem. And the low neckline showed off the ruby heart pendant.

She didn't have the right shoes, though. Maybe she'd have to hit Macy's shoe department next. How was she supposed to give Nikolas a real fashion show without the right shoes?

Max was always teasing her about the number of pairs of shoes she had. He didn't understand that shoes were the key to a really great outfit.

Max. Why did she have to think about him right now? Thinking about Max made her think about the security guard. The guy's just taking a nap, that's all, she reminded herself.

She winced as she remembered the sensation of pinching the blood vessel in the guard's head. I hurt him. The thought just popped into her mind.

Okay, so she hurt him. A little. What could she do about it now? Nothing.

Isabel pulled her hair into a ponytail and then twisted it into a chignon. A dress this elegant deserved an elegant hairstyle. She checked the mirror. Perfect. Time to start Nikolas's private runway fashion show. She looked at the other dresses she'd picked out to model. They were gorgeous, too, but the idea of changing clothes so many more times just made her feel… tired.

Maybe she should tell Nikolas she wanted to go home. But would he-

"Turn around slowly and put your hands on the wall." The deep voice jerked Isabel out of her thoughts. She knew that voice. It was the voice from her nightmares.

Valenti was out there with Nikolas! The hem of her gown started to vibrate. Isabel stared at it stupidly. It's because I'm trembling, she realized.

Remember what Nikolas said, she ordered herself. You have the power. You don't have to be afraid of Valenti or anyone else.

She stepped out of the dressing room and tiptoed down the narrow hall. She grabbed the gown's long skirt in both hands and pulled it up. She might need to be able to move fast.

Isabel peeked past the curtain shielding the entrance to the dressing rooms. She pressed her fingers against her lips to keep from crying out. Sheriff Valenti had a gun pointed at Nikolas.

"Turn around slowly and put your hands against the wall," Valenti repeated, his voice flat and emotionless.

Do it, Nikolas, Isabel thought. When Nikolas turned around, Valenti would start toward him. He'd walk in front of the curtain, and Isabel would reach out and squeeze his brain until he dropped. She wouldn't feel bad about it. No one was going to hurt Nikolas.

Nikolas didn't move to obey Valenti. He just smiled. He obviously pla

A gunshot blasted. Nikolas fell to the ground with a thud.

Nikolas lay still. His golden aura flickered once and then disappeared as if someone had flipped a switch.

How could his aura disappear? Valenti couldn't kill Nikolas. Valenti was human. Just a weak, pathetic human. It didn't happen. It couldn't have happened, Isabel thought. In a second Nikolas will jump up and squash Valenti.

But Nikolas didn't move.

Valenti strode toward the body. The curtain billowed against Isabel as he passed, filling her nose with a chalky, musty odor.

I should change back into my own clothes before he finds me, she thought.

She turned and slowly walked down the hall. Her feet felt numb. She couldn't feel them touching the floor. Maybe I'm floating. Maybe that's why. Maybe I'm a ghost. An alien ghost. She felt a giggle rise up inside her. But she shouldn't laugh. Wolves liked laughing girls. They liked to gobble them down. It made their tummies happy.

Isabel stepped into the dressing room and slipped off the gown. The beautiful gown. She removed the tiara and the ruby pendant. She shouldn't be wearing them, anyway. She should be wearing a red cape with a hood. She should be on her way to Grandma's house, not in the mall. And the wolf shouldn't have a gun. Why wasn't the wolf following the story?

She pulled on her jeans and her lacy shirt. Then she curled up in the corner, closed her eyes, and waited for the wolf to find her.

Yes, she could hear him now. Hear his boots moving down the little hallway. Boots on a wolf. That wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.

"That was a gunshot." Max stumbled back a step. He'd just felt a massive bolt of terror from Isabel. Had she been shot? Did Valenti have her?

"I think it came from Macy's," Liz cried. She took off, ru

Max was right behind her. They burst through the store's main doors. Liz grabbed his arm and signaled him to slow down. She was right. There was no point in a

He moved forward quickly and quietly, sca

At least Isabel is still alive, he thought as he headed deeper into the store. He wished he could send her a mental message telling her he was here and that she was going to be okay. But it didn't work like that. He couldn't have silent conversations with Isabel or Michael. He could just feel their feelings.

And Isabel's fear felt overwhelming.

Liz touched his shoulder and pointed to her nose. Then she pointed off to the left. At first Max couldn't figure out what she was trying to tell him. Then he smelled it. The firecracker odor of gunpowder.

He strode toward the smell. He turned the corner into one of the little dress boutiques-and saw Nikolas lying on the ground with Valenti standing over him.