Ember by Kristen Callihan Page A

oving e v e r clos e r . S h e ought to s ee k sh e l t e r , p e rh a ps in a shop , but th a t wouldn’t stop hi m. O f th a t sh e wa s sur e. H o me wa s too f a r a w a y . S h e ’d h a v e to fight . A h ea rtb ea t thu m p e d at h e r n e ck as sh e fought b a ck p a nic .
    F ing e rs cl e nch e d tight , M ir a nd a ma d e a sudd e n turn into a da r k a ll e y w a y . P r ed i c t ab l y , h er s t a l k er f o ll o w ed, s t epp i n g into th e sp a c e w ith th e a uthority of on e us e d to inciting f ea r , not b e ing a victi m of it . H is m ist a k e. He took a st e p clos e r , a nd his f ea tur e s c ame into vi e w .
    S h e kn e w this ma n . He r m ind r a c e d to pl a c e hi m as h e spok e.
    “ W h e n’d you c a tch on th e n? ” h e a sk e d as h e stroll e d tow a rd h e r . H is costu me bord e r e d on th e ridiculous . L em on a nd li me pl a id trous e rs me t w ith a r a spb e rry wa istco a t . A d a rk or a ng e s a ck co a t a nd gr ee n bo w l e r co m pl e t e d th e a trocity .
    “ T hr ee blocks b a ck . ” M ir a nd a b a ck e d up , dr aw ing hi m furth e r into th e a ll e y , awa y fro m w itn e ss e s . S h e could do this . S h e could fight .
    A s m il e split his pl a in f a c e, r e v ea ling a gap b e t wee n his front t ee th . T h a t s m il e. A shiv e r lit ov e r h e r . He wa s on e of th e young thugs who h a d a ccost e d h e r in th e a ll e y b e hind h e r ho me m onths ago. A surprising bolt of e xcit eme nt lit through h e r at th e r ea li za tion . W ould th e d a rk str a ng e r who h a d co me to h e r r e scu e th e n appear as w e ll? S h e qu e ll e d th e thought . O n e coincid e nc e wou l d not bring on a noth e r .
    T h e ma n tilt e d his h ea d to r e g a rd h e r . “ I know you . ” He touch e d on e long fing e r to his j utt i ng chin . “ D on’t t e ll me, it’s r a ttling a round in me brain box …
    “ D id we… ” Fea th e ry bro w s wa ggl e d .
    “ G ood G od , no , ” M ir a nd a sn a pp e d , which h a d hi m scow li ng.
    “ We ll you don ’t have t o be so v i go r ous abou t it , eh? ”
    A t t ha t M ir anda gave a littl e l augh, t hough she f ea r ed she m i gh t be ill . “ I don ’t see how po lit eness f ac t o r s i n t o t he equa ti on when you a r e s t a l k i ng me i n an a ll eyway w it h t he i n t en t t o do no good. ”
    T h e w id e sp a c e b e t wee n his bro w s wrinkl e d for a m o me nt b e for e cl ea ring . “ T ru e. ”
    “ W hy a r e you following me, a nyw a y? ” S h e ’d h a v e th a t m uch out of hi m b e for e sh e ma d e hi m r e gr e t this d a y . E v e n now , h e r v e ins throbb e d w ith r e pr e ss e d n ee d as h e r po we r w ok e up w ithin h e r .
    He r an a t ongue ove r h i s t ee t h. “ Been wa t ch i n ’ you p i nch pocke t s. ” Hook i ng one fi nge r i n h i s s tr aps as t hough he had no t h i ng t o f ea r fr om he r , he s t ood s tr a i gh t e r . “ Good wo r k f o r a bour . ”
    “ Y ou do be tt e r , do y o u ?” s h e h edged. P e r h aps s h e could sc a r e hi m off w ith h e r knif e b e for e things got out of h a nd . T h e n sh e pro m ptly curs e d h e rs e lf as sh e r emem b e r e d it l a y deep w ithin th e c a v e rns of h e r purs e. S tupid . S o b l oody s t up i d.
    “ I ’ ve got no need t o go d i pp i ng. The spo rt’ s f o r chavys and t w i s t s anyhow. No t t ha t you a i n ’t a fi ne w ir e r . Tha t l as t b it of pocke t f ann i ng was a wo r k o’ a rt . ”
    “ I suppose he r e i s whe r e I say t hank you? ” He r t one was sn i de bu t she was shamed t o adm it t ha t a ce rt a i n pride swe ll ed at h i s p r a i se of he r p i ckpocke ti ng abilities. I f one mus t endeavo r t o do a t h i ng, one ough t t o do it we ll .
    He gave a s li gh t shake t o h i s head as if t o pu ll h i mse lf back on tr ack. “ I know we ’ ve c r ossed tr acks be f o r e. ” He snapped h i s fi nge r s. “ An a ll ey