Dark Kiss. Michelle Rowen

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Dark Kiss - Michelle  Rowen

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Avenue. They can help you if you go there.”

      The chill in the air had gotten worse now that it was dark out. I began to move past him, feeling it time to exit stage left. Besides, my strange hunger seemed to be getting worse by the minute. I needed to eat something soon. Even if it didn’t really help, at least it would take the edge off whatever was wrong with me.

      “Samantha, wait.”

      I froze and slowly turned back to the boy who’d just called me beautiful. Not something I heard every day, that was for sure. Maybe that was why it knocked me off balance so much, especially given my recent difficulties with the last guy who’d showed a fleeting interest in me.

      I didn’t move as he approached me again. He smelled warm and clean—I guess he hadn’t been on the streets that long. He smelled good … really good.

      Bishop’s expression clouded and he rubbed his temples again. “It’s like a million images are hitting me all at once. Even more now that you’re here with me. All I know is … it’s running out. I have only four more days to find the others before they’re lost to me. But … there’s no one. Nowhere. Maybe I’m alone. Maybe they’re not here. But they’re supposed to be, and I’m supposed to be able to find them.”

      My heart pounded hard and fast. It had done something similar with Stephen the other night, speeding up at the idea of spending time with him. But this was different—it felt different. And it wasn’t just because Bishop was a very cute, if disturbed, boy whose path had crossed mine. There was something about him—something I couldn’t place. So familiar. So compelling. Bishop was strange and babbling, but I felt drawn to him like nothing I’d experienced before. I tried to tell myself he was just a troubled kid I’d found on the sidewalk, not someone I should ever be attracted to.

      I need to walk away. Right now.

      But I didn’t.

      “Are you high?” It was a guess, probably a good one. I needed a reason for his odd behavior, to label it so this would make some kind of sense to me.

      He looked up at the dark sky. “High, yes. I need to be high above the city. That might help me find them.”

      I looked up. There were no stars tonight. The heavy clouds were threatening rain. A bright beam of light shone up above the tall buildings, back in the direction of the movie theater.

      “Above the city?” I asked, following his gaze.

      He shook his head. “I can’t fly here. None of us can. And it hurts so much—I can’t explain it properly because I can’t think properly. I’m damaged.” He raked a hand through his dark, messy hair. “Why is it like this for me? I hate feeling this way, but I can’t snap out of it and get control. There has to be another way.”

      He leaned back against the store window, slouching as if it was difficult for him to remain standing. Concern gnawed at my gut.

      I didn’t want to feel responsible for this guy, but I did anyway. I liked to think I wasn’t like the other coldhearted people around here—I refused to let myself be like that. I couldn’t sidestep someone just because they were in trouble and saying crazy stuff.

      I let out a shaky breath. “It’s going to be okay, Bishop. I’ll help you.”

      He looked at me with surprise. “You will?”

      “Of course.” I reached for his hand.

      The moment I touched him, a strong crackle of electricity coursed up my arm.

      I gasped.

      And then a vision slammed into me like I’d just been flattened by a truck.

      A city in darkness, melting and draining away like water in a bathtub—falling into a dark hole in the center of everything. People, thousands and thousands of them, trying to run away but getting pulled into the vortex. There was no escape.

      Bishop was there trying to help. To save everyone, including me. I reached for his hand as he yelled my name, but he was swept away from me before I could touch him.

      Then it was all over.

      Where there had once been a city, there was nothing but darkness.

      The horrifying image left me shaking and gasping.

      Bishop looked down with shock at my hand in his before I pulled away from him. Thunder rumbled in the skies above us.

      “No, wait.” He grabbed my hand again.

      “Did you see that?” I asked, my voice trembling.

      “See what?” He frowned. “I didn’t see anything. But when you touch me … I can suddenly think clearly for the first time in days.”

      I stared at him, finding it hard to catch my breath. The strange vision—had it been my imagination? I was shaking so hard that I could barely form words. “You’re crazy.”

      His expression held deep surprise. “Not anymore.”

      “You’re not making sense.”

      “But it’s still true.” There was way more clarity in his gaze now. “I don’t understand how you’re able to do this, but—do you feel it, too?”

      “What?”

      “We have a connection. The moment I saw you … I don’t know what it is. Maybe you were sent to help me. Maybe they knew I needed you to find me. That has to be it.”

      The sharp edges of the disturbing vision had softened in my mind like they were nothing more than a remembered dream. Now holding Bishop’s hand felt … good. Too good. Touching him had chased his confusion away—although that made absolutely no sense. I suddenly realized it had chased my chill away, too. Warmth slid slowly up my arm and through the rest of me. Yet, despite this newfound heat, his touch still made me shiver.

      I looked down at my hand in his but didn’t pull it away this time.

      “Maybe I’ll be able to find the others now,” Bishop said.

      “What others?” My voice sounded hoarse. “Your family?”

      “No. The others. They’re … supposed to help me.”

      “You’re still holding my hand.”

      He raised his blue eyes to mine, and a smile played on his lips for the first time—a really amazing smile that made my heart skip a beat. “You have no idea how good this feels for me.”

      I had to admit, it felt pretty good for me, too. Dangerously good.

      “I don’t know what you are or where you came from,” Bishop said, “but thank you.”

      I felt dazed. “What I am?”

      He nodded. “To make me feel this way you must be very special … and you don’t even realize it, do you?”

      I almost laughed at that, but what came out sounded

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