Thornhill (Hemlock) Read Online Free PDF Page A

songs.
    “Shit, Eve. I only came in for a minute.” He tugged on a silver hoop—one of many—in his ear.
    “Think he’ll care? Just keep them out of trouble until I get back, okay?” Before the man could argue, she disappeared into the crowd.
    I started after her as the music swelled up again.
    A heavy hand on my arm pulled me back. “Stay put,” growled the giant, his voice rising over the music.
    Eve had lied about not recognizing Kyle’s picture back at the coffee shop. There was no way I was just going to stand here and trust her to bring him to us.
    I glanced at Jason. From the look on his face, he was thinking the same thing, but he shrugged and nodded meaningfully at the dance floor. If we drew attention to ourselves, it wouldn’t be three against one: it would be three against every wolf in the room.
    Serena rolled her eyes at us and stepped between me and the wolf. Just before she turned her head, I glimpsed a smile that could have made armies crumble. One male werewolf didn’t stand a chance.
    She rose up on tiptoe and said something near the man’s ear before moving around to his other side.
    His gaze followed her like a compass finding north, and Jason and I slipped away.
    We skirted the crowd, weaving around small groups of conversation and wolves who danced like it was their last night on earth. I scanned each face we passed. None of them was Kyle’s.
    I headed for a staircase in the corner of the room, giving a wide berth to a couple making out in the shadows. The music faded to bearable levels as we climbed to the second floor.
    A trio of wolves with midnight-black fur bolted past us as we reached the landing, and I couldn’t quite suppress a shiver before glancing around.
    Here, it was less dance club and more pool hall. It was the kind of place I would find my father in on Sunday afternoons when I was a kid. Lamps hung like spotlights over scarred pool tables where money was put down, lost or won as angles were worked and tempers flared.
    A blond man, his back half to us, leaned over a table as he lined up a shot. My heart tried to leap in different directions before momentarily stopping completely. Ben .
    I wanted to move, but I was paralyzed.
    The man straightened and turned. The air escaped my lungs in a rush as my heart kicked back into gear. Not Ben . I pressed a hand to my chest.
    Jason was staring at me, brow creased. “Are you all right?”
    I opened my mouth to lie, to tell him I was fine, but the words died in my throat. Standing thirty feet away, staring out one of the few windows that wasn’t boarded up, was Kyle.
    He didn’t notice me. Not at first. He leaned against the window frame and pressed the knuckles of his right hand to the wood, a soft punch that might have been frustration or boredom. Then, with a deep breath, he straightened and turned.
    Even at a distance, dark hollows were visible under his eyes, and it looked like a toss-up between what he had done last: slept or shaved. It had only been a few days, but he seemed somehow thinner and taller, like he had been stretched out.
    I started to step forward and then hesitated. Relief. Hurt. Worry. A small flash of anger. I’d left everything behind to find him, but now that he was in front of me, I wasn’t sure what to do or feel.
    Kyle’s eyes found mine.
    I wanted to run; I forced myself to walk.
    Twenty questions chased shock across his face as I came to an uncertain stop in front of him. I desperately wanted to cross those last two feet, but I couldn’t. I stood before him—gutted with every emotion exposed—and waited for him to say something. Anything.
    After a long moment, he reached out and cupped my cheek with his palm. “ Mac? ”
    A tremble radiated out from my chest and stole my breath. Caught between wanting to laugh with relief or cry, I settled for closing my eyes and turning my face into the touch.
    Kyle’s hand fell away and I opened my eyes. “Hi,” I whispered, the tiny word hesitant and