Free The Night House by Rachel Tafoya

with ashen skin, watery blue eyes, and long disheveled blond hair. He took a step closer and I gripped the knife.
    Then he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
    He knelt and I tried to breathe through my terror.
    “I have to get you out of here. Before they find you.”
    I just shook my head. He reached, slowly at first, then so fast I barely saw it. The knife was out of my hands, and then I was in his arms. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth.
    “If they hear you, they’ll kill you.” He almost sounded as scared as I felt.
    I swallowed my scream.
    “Close your eyes.” He had a soft voice. I did as he said.
    Something large and warm wrapped around me and I was in the air, flying so fast that my eyes stung. He carried me as he ran through the cellar, out of the house, into the yard. He passed at least three of my neighbors’ houses until he finally stopped and placed me onto their back porch.
    I was dizzy from the journey and the fear. When I looked up at him, his face swam in my vision. Something acid-hot burned my arm, and I realized he’d cut me. He rubbed both of his hands against the wound. He had to stop and take a ragged breath as he did this. His hands shook a little.
    “You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” I squeaked out.
    He snapped out of his stupor. “S-sorry. I haven’t eaten in a while. ”
    “Please don’t bite me!” I shrieked, my eyes shut tight. I expected teeth in my neck at any moment—but it didn’t happen.
    “It’s okay, I’m only pretending to kill you,” he said. “To throw them off your track.”
    I risked another glance at him. “Who are you?”
    There was a long pause before he said, “I’m Micah.” His big blue eyes found mine. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them.”
    “We have to go back,” I pulled on his arm. “I have to help my parents! Please!”
    He took my shoulders. “They’re already gone. I’m sorry.”
    “Wh…what?” My breath hitched.
    “They were hunters…But they didn’t tell me you were so young…they didn’t…tell me…”
    His gaze met mine once more. I saw the regret in him. And then he was gone.

James
     
    Shiloh’s sharp voice wakes me up. He says, “We can’t take him to a hospital, Al. What are we going to say? Our friend passed out because he telepathically found this girl on the streets?”
    The two of them are on the brink of panic attacks.
    “I’m not actually telepathic,” I force the words out of my dry throat. I can’t quite open my eyes.
    A wave of relief crashes over them both, and someone’s arms squeeze me too tightly.
    “Jesus Christmas, James, don’t ever do that again!” Ally’s voice is muffled against my coat.
    “I will if you don’t let go of me,” I mumble.
    She jumps away. I see I’m back on the sidewalk. Shiloh kneels next to me and slips an arm behind my back.
    “Let’s get you home. Ally, call a cab.”
    He helps me up, and I feel their concern pulsing around me, like heartbeats, but they are the only ones I feel.
    “What happened?” Shiloh asks.
    “I lost her.”
    “No shit.” Shiloh tentatively takes his arm back, to see if I can stand on my own. I lean against the building, but I don’t fall.
    “I mean, I can’t feel her anymore.”
    “Oh.” He can’t decide if he’s happy or disappointed. His eyes are wide, but his lips are thin. “That’s probably best.”
    I nod, but I don’t know if I agree. I feel like I let her down. Ally turns to face us as a streak of yellow comes to a halt in front of her.
    “Is he cool to walk?”
    I answer her by getting into the cab on shaky legs. There’s an emptiness gathering inside me now that I’ve been separated from the girl. I just want to be in bed. Soon enough we’re speeding down the street, and I’m starting to feel sick.
    This has never happened to me. Once I make a connection, it stays with me. I feel so uncomfortable. There’s a part of me that’s gone. I know it. I’ll never get it