Chapter 6: Rain on the Hood

The rain hit the Dry Creek road all at once.

Mikel slammed the brakes, and the truck slid sideways toward the wash and stopped with its nose in the sage.

Water poured down the windshield in sheets.

"Wipers," Fionn said.

"They're on," Mikel said.

"Then your wipers are shit."

"Then walk."

Neither of them moved.

It was nine days since Claim Night, and the heat was gone.

The fever had left his body clean and tired on the sixth day, and Fionn had thought, with huge relief, that it was over.

It was not over.

The pull was still there, tight and low behind his ribs.

Every minute he spent within ten feet of Mikel it tugged.

He had spent the whole drive to the north fence with his hands jammed under his thighs.

"The wash will flood," Mikel said. "We wait it out."

"For how long?"

"An hour. Two," Mikel said.

"In here. With you."

"Unless you'd like the hood."

Mikel was not smiling.

He was staring straight ahead through the glass with both hands on the wheel, and a muscle moved in his jaw.

"You kissed me in the loft," Fionn said.

"You kissed me back," Mikel said.

"I said not on the mouth," Fionn said.

"You said it after. It's different."

"It is not different."

Mikel turned his head.

In the gray storm light his eyes were dark again, and very steady, and Fionn's stomach dropped.

"Then tell me to stop," Mikel said. "Right now."

His voice was low.

"You haven't been in heat for three days, Casey. Say stop, and I'll drive you home, and we'll never talk about it."

The rain drummed on the roof.

Fionn's mouth was dry.

He could say it.

He opened the door instead, and stepped out into the storm.

The rain soaked him in a second, cold through his shirt and into his skin.

He stood in the road with his arms out and his face turned up, and the mud sucked at his boots.

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