Chapter 11 #2
“Not exactly.” His father’s face flashed through his mind. “But I do not like doing so. The qiongqi is deceptive by nature, willing to say or do anything to gain the trust of its prey. It is how it hunts.”
“I thought so.” Leonie shifted a little closer, angling her legs so that their knees nearly touched. “I’m sorry to have to ask you to mislead the kids like this. I know it can’t be easy for you.”
Even through his jeans, he could feel the warmth of her skin. Every breath filled his chest with her scent. His fingers tightened, claws threatening to rip through leather.
Control. Control.
He fought not to show any hint of his raging desire. “Hopefully, it will not be for too long. Have you had an opportunity to speak with Rufus?”
“Not yet.” To his relief, she sat back again, opening up more space between them. “I know my nephew. If he’s keeping a secret, it’ll be for a good reason. I’m still figuring out how to best approach him. I don’t want to tell him we know he’s lying, since that would mean revealing your ability.”
He remembered how Rufus had stared at him when he’d reacted to Spencer’s lie. “I believe he already knows. Or suspects, at least.”
Leonie frowned. “Are you sure? The other kids aren’t acting any differently. If he knows you can tell that they’re lying, I don’t see why he wouldn’t warn them.”
Shan had been wondering about that himself. “Perhaps he is afraid that if he does, they will change tactics. Take a more direct approach.”
“That’s possible. I suspect their next step would be to dress up as ghosts and leap out at the younger kids. Rufus knows I don’t want rumors flying around camp.” She finished her coffee. “Well, it was probably inevitable that he’d figure out what you can do. Though it’s a complication.”
Shan looked thoughtfully at Rufus through his glasses. “Or perhaps an opportunity.”
It was not easy to speak with Rufus alone.
Life at summer camp, Shan quickly discovered, was a communal affair.
The children ate, slept, and moved from activity to activity together in loud, chaotic groups.
Even in the free periods on the schedule, where campers were able to do as they pleased as long as they stayed within the camp grounds, they tended to stick together.
It was hard to single one out for a quiet word without attracting attention.
It was even harder to do so when Rufus was actively trying to avoid him. Not that it was really possible for a camper to avoid their own counselor, but the boy seemed determined to interact with him as little as possible.
Which was understandable, but not helpful. Try as he might to casually approach the boy, Rufus continued to evade any chance of conversation. By the next day, Shan was running out of both ideas, and clean shirts.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Leonie murmured as he came back from his third change of outfit that morning. “I guess the kids are still trying to make you take your sunglasses off, so that I see your eyes and realize we’re mates. I can have another talk with them if you like.”
He shook his head, dislodging a few stray specks of glitter. “Better to allow them to continue. We do not want them to realize we are aware of their plan. Though I could use your assistance with the other matter.”
“Ah.” Leonie glanced over her shoulder at the kids, who were finishing off their artistic masterpieces (now without glitter) under Honey’s direction. “No luck with Rufus?”
“No.” He didn’t like asking for her aid—he was supposed to be here to help her, not the other way round—but it was the fastest way to solve the problem. “If you could engineer an opportunity…?”
“Of course.” She patted his arm, blissfully unaware of what this did to him. “And in future, don’t struggle with problems alone, okay? We’re meant to be a team. I’ve got you, partner.”
She turned away, clapping her hands to attract the kids’ attention. “Okay, campers, time’s up. I love how much energy you all put into your art today. All your paintings are looking great!”
“Some of them are,” Ignatius muttered, giving his own exquisite rendition of a dragon in flight a few final highlights. “Others of us got more paint on our counselor.”
“Look what I painted, everyone!” Tiff proudly held up her canvas. “It’s us! The whole pack!”
“That’s beautiful, Tiff,” Finley said warmly—and then paused as he actually took in her creation. “Uh…where are we, exactly?”
“Right here!” Tiff pointed at the bottom part of her painting, which was predominantly rendered in shades of red. “That’s your head, and over here is your arm, see? And here’s the murderous ghost who’s dismembered the entire camp.”
Leonie didn’t bat an eye. “That’s very creative, Tiff. Everyone, hand in your paintings, and then clean your brushes and palettes. Shan, can you head over to the east field and start setting out the equipment for Capture the Flag? Rufus, you go with him to help.”
Rufus looked like he wanted to object to this plan, but Leonie was already bustling off to help Honey collect the kids’ artwork. With clear reluctance, he slid off his chair.
Shan led the way across the camp, Rufus a silent shadow at his heels. It was obvious the boy knew he’d been set up. Even without words, Shan could almost taste his wariness; that faint, delicious scent of secrets.
Hunt. Pounce. Feed.
He shook his head, which earned him a brief, slanting glance from Rufus. What could those sharp golden eyes read in his own body language? More than others had seen, certainly.
He kept his gaze facing forward, not looking at the boy. “We have something in common.”
He might as well have addressed the sky. Rufus gave no indication of even having heard him. Yet he had that sense of unnerving scrutiny, as if he were splayed out for dissection.
“A number of things, in fact.” If he was wrong, this was a mistake…but he had to risk it. “We can both tell when people are lying.”
No reaction.
So Rufus had known. Now for the riskier gamble. “And we are both keeping secrets.”
Rufus looked at him properly at last—not one of those skittering, evasive glances, but a startled stare. Perhaps the boy had expected accusation, but not admission.
“You already know mine, I think.” He left it ambiguous as to what that might be. “And I know yours. Your friends lied about seeing something in the woods. But you lied as well. I believe I know why.”
Rufus’s hands twitched. His gaze flickered, shifting away, then back again.
“You lied to Leonie because you feared that if you told her there is something in the woods, I would stay to investigate.” They’d reached the sports equipment shed at the corner of the large field used for various games.
Shan opened the door as he spoke, leading the way into the small, dim building.
“You see more than other people, and you do not want me here. Which is something else we have in common. I do not want to be here either.”
Rufus’s golden eyes narrowed.
Dark amusement purred through his mind. He knows when you are lying. Even to yourself.
He pushed the monster back down, but unfortunately it was right. There was no hiding the truth. Not from Rufus.
“More accurately, it is better if I am not here,” he amended. “Not for me. But for Leonie.”
He stopped there, unwilling to admit too much out loud. Rufus stared at him, unreadable as a blank page. He couldn’t tell whether the boy agreed with the statement or not.
“My continued presence here is a problem. The sooner I’m gone, the sooner she can get back to her normal life.
” He started hunting through the shelves, listening out for any sign of the rest of the pack approaching.
“But I cannot leave until I’m certain there’s no threat to the camp.
I need to know why you believe the ghost exists. Will you help me?”
For a long moment, Rufus simply looked at him. Then he glanced around, and pointed at an unmarked box tucked away on a high shelf. Lifting the box down, Shan found it was filled with fabric pennants in bright colors, along with matching sashes and a handful of metal stakes.
“Thank you.” He tucked the box under his arm. “Then perhaps you could speak to your aunt.”