and a smile, there was now just chalk and dew. It was almost too much for her.
Gaia turned away, wanting to block out the images of premature dying, but her eyes were drawn back as if some unseen thing were pulling her.
Gaia was no big believer. She didnât go in for ghosts, or voodoo, or little leprechauns with colored marshmallow cereal. If people wanted to call themselves witches, that was cool with Gaia aslong as they didnât expect her to believe in witchcraft. She might be an overmuscled, fear-deprived, jump-kicking freak girl, but Gaia didnât skim the tabloids for predictions or use a Ouija board to communicate with the dead. For all the weirdness in her life, she knew where to draw the line between what was real and what was not . Or at least, she thought she did.
But the area inside the police tape gave Gaia a bad feeling. Something worse than a mugging or robbery had happened there. And Gaia could still feel it.
She looked up from the line on the ground and did a quick check of the trees around herâjust in case any werewolves or zombies were approaching. Then she laughed at herself.
Still, he could be out there. Right there.
There was that whole bad film noir/cheesy paperback theory that criminals return to the scene of the crime.
It sounded like an idea dreamed up by a lazy detective or by some writer who didnât know where to go with the plot. Just sit on your ass, and the killer will come to you. In Gaiaâs book that was way too easy to be true.
There was no real reason to think the killer might come back to this place. None at all. Gaia had the whole park to patrol. She couldnât stand here all night,staring at an empty field. Glaring at the trees made about as much sense as her Sam obsession.
But when she looked again, something was out there. Right at the bottom of a bunch of little ash trees, stuck in a chunk of shadow wasâsomething. Maybe someone.
The all-over sickness she had been feeling started to turn into the more familiar letâs-go-kick-some-ass buzz. Gaia took a slow step toward the shape in the shadows. She squinted until her eyes watered. Was someone really there? She couldnât be sure. She took another step. It was so hard to see. The shape in the shadows could be a crouching person, or it could be a shrub or a trash can.
Then the shape moved.
No Killing Tonight
HE WAS UP AND RUNNING BEFORE she had a chance to blink. There was no reason to run, really. He could just kill her now.
He wasnât afraid of her.
But he was in the mood for a challenge. He wanted to run. Run until it hurt. Untilthe air coming in and out of his lungs burned the delicate flesh of his throat.
He wanted her to feel the same thing.
And so he ran. There was no way she would catch up to him. Which meant no killing tonight. But that was okay.
He wanted to see what she could do.
Gaia vs. Bad Guy
GAIAâS LEGS WERE PUMPING EVEN before her brain had finished realizing that it really was a person out there. Someone had been there in the shadows, watching her. Now the person was running. So was Gaia.
She made it out of the chewed-up field and jumped the police tape on the far side. For a moment she stood there, frustration tightening her throat. It was a terrible thing to be ready for a fight and not find anyone to punch.
Then she saw the shadow guy again. He was a hundred feet away, cutting across the grass by the side of the path. Gaia started after him.
Then something strange happened.
The average Gaia-versus-bad-guy race lasted all of five seconds. It wasnât that she was Ms. Olympic Runner, but the same thing that made Gaia strong also made her pretty damn fast in a sprint. Her father said it was part of being fearless. That little regulator that keeps people from pushing their muscles to the absolute limit was absent without leave in Gaia. She could push her legs a hundred percent. Maybe further. Gaia could even push her muscles so hard that she broke her
Gaia turned away, wanting to block out the images of premature dying, but her eyes were drawn back as if some unseen thing were pulling her.
Gaia was no big believer. She didnât go in for ghosts, or voodoo, or little leprechauns with colored marshmallow cereal. If people wanted to call themselves witches, that was cool with Gaia aslong as they didnât expect her to believe in witchcraft. She might be an overmuscled, fear-deprived, jump-kicking freak girl, but Gaia didnât skim the tabloids for predictions or use a Ouija board to communicate with the dead. For all the weirdness in her life, she knew where to draw the line between what was real and what was not . Or at least, she thought she did.
But the area inside the police tape gave Gaia a bad feeling. Something worse than a mugging or robbery had happened there. And Gaia could still feel it.
She looked up from the line on the ground and did a quick check of the trees around herâjust in case any werewolves or zombies were approaching. Then she laughed at herself.
Still, he could be out there. Right there.
There was that whole bad film noir/cheesy paperback theory that criminals return to the scene of the crime.
It sounded like an idea dreamed up by a lazy detective or by some writer who didnât know where to go with the plot. Just sit on your ass, and the killer will come to you. In Gaiaâs book that was way too easy to be true.
There was no real reason to think the killer might come back to this place. None at all. Gaia had the whole park to patrol. She couldnât stand here all night,staring at an empty field. Glaring at the trees made about as much sense as her Sam obsession.
But when she looked again, something was out there. Right at the bottom of a bunch of little ash trees, stuck in a chunk of shadow wasâsomething. Maybe someone.
The all-over sickness she had been feeling started to turn into the more familiar letâs-go-kick-some-ass buzz. Gaia took a slow step toward the shape in the shadows. She squinted until her eyes watered. Was someone really there? She couldnât be sure. She took another step. It was so hard to see. The shape in the shadows could be a crouching person, or it could be a shrub or a trash can.
Then the shape moved.
No Killing Tonight
HE WAS UP AND RUNNING BEFORE she had a chance to blink. There was no reason to run, really. He could just kill her now.
He wasnât afraid of her.
But he was in the mood for a challenge. He wanted to run. Run until it hurt. Untilthe air coming in and out of his lungs burned the delicate flesh of his throat.
He wanted her to feel the same thing.
And so he ran. There was no way she would catch up to him. Which meant no killing tonight. But that was okay.
He wanted to see what she could do.
Gaia vs. Bad Guy
GAIAâS LEGS WERE PUMPING EVEN before her brain had finished realizing that it really was a person out there. Someone had been there in the shadows, watching her. Now the person was running. So was Gaia.
She made it out of the chewed-up field and jumped the police tape on the far side. For a moment she stood there, frustration tightening her throat. It was a terrible thing to be ready for a fight and not find anyone to punch.
Then she saw the shadow guy again. He was a hundred feet away, cutting across the grass by the side of the path. Gaia started after him.
Then something strange happened.
The average Gaia-versus-bad-guy race lasted all of five seconds. It wasnât that she was Ms. Olympic Runner, but the same thing that made Gaia strong also made her pretty damn fast in a sprint. Her father said it was part of being fearless. That little regulator that keeps people from pushing their muscles to the absolute limit was absent without leave in Gaia. She could push her legs a hundred percent. Maybe further. Gaia could even push her muscles so hard that she broke her
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