THE ENEMY WITHIN

THE ENEMY WITHIN Chapter 3

3.

A misty fog descended over the abandoned Funland Amusement Park. Vincent was glad for it as he slunk through a hole in the chain link fence. He couldn't see the road, so anyone driving by couldn't see him. Through the smoky veil, he eased past the decrepit ticket booths and into the park.

A snap like whips uncoiling made him wary until he saw ripped banners unfurling in the wind. Vincent needed to chill. Everything was going the way the Eye told him it would.

After a few minutes of searching, he came upon the carousel. The metal bars holding the horses were rusted and a musty scent of rotted wood filled the air. But when Vincent saw a red charger with one ear missing, the same one the Eye had shown him, he knew this was the place.

There were few happy memories from his past, but Vincent did recall sitting on a black horse, imagining he was a knight riding off to battle. That's what tonight was all about, the gathering of his round table, loyal to the end.

The horses were different than he remembered. In the fog, their chipped, wild eyes gave off a demonic aura. The wood creaked as he stepped on the ride, but the night was silent after.

Where were they? Vincent had never spoken to the others, but the message had been sent and the Eye didn't make mistakes. Great effort had gone into choosing this location, not that anyone would be interested in them. Four seventeen-year-olds didn't matter. Not yet anyway.

Vincent circled the carousel. Had something scared the others off? Or worse, had they been found? No, if that happened, the Eye would have told him. At least, he wanted to believe that.

He took out his latest woodcarving, a lion's head, and studied it to distract himself. The teeth were a little off, but he'd gotten the mane the way he wanted. Sitting on the edge of the carousel, Vincent took out his whittling knife and started in on the eyes. With a watchmaker's precision, he dug the knife into the wood. Soon, a fierce eye stared back at him. Twenty minutes later, he heard footsteps and stashed the blade and carving.

They were light, cautious. Jamie. He could feel her ... he didn't know how to put it, her signal. It was almost like a hum she emitted. High cheekbones were accentuated by the cropped shag haircut. A black leather jacket was held tight against the chill – he noted the black nail polish. Green eyes looked back at him like lamps in the darkness. "Vincent?"

Although she tried to conceal it, Vincent sensed fear rising off her. The thought thrilled him until he realized that she might be able see beneath his surface as well. "Jamie," Vincent said, relief coursing through him. After seventeen years, they were finally together. Which meant the real danger was about to begin.

"This where the freakshow's meeting tonight?"

Vincent turned to find Noah. He'd somehow sneaked up from the other side. Sunglasses covered Noah's eyes and a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels hung loosely in his hand. Platinum blond hair spilled out beneath his gray hoodie. "Mother's milk anyone?" When no one moved, Noah shrugged and raised the bottle to his lips. "Not like any of us know what mother's milk tastes like." He grabbed a pole and lazily swung around. "So, we here for the rides?"

Vincent felt a thorn in his side. He should have known Noah was approaching. It seemed he wasn't as attuned to the others as he imagined. He peered into the fog as Noah settled beside Jamie on a stagecoach. "Where's Max? We need him."

Jamie stood up, moving closer to Vincent – did it mean she perceived him as the alpha?

"Don't you want to know who we are?" Jamie said.