After we finished our meal, we drove to a nearby gas station and picked up dessert. The boys spent thirty minutes trying to figure out a good place to enjoy it when they finally discovered a lake nestled in a ravine. I'd imagine the place to be spectacular in the daytime, but the moonlight cascading over the steep inclines surrounding us and the soft chime of water slipping over rocks adds an eeriness to the location.

"Not gonna lie," I tell the two brunettes beside me as we walk, "I sort of thought this place would be lame." I slip on a rock and Seth's hand is immediately at my elbow to steady me. "Thanks," I mutter, glancing around us. "Actually, it's kind of cool... in a creepy, isolated kind of way."

"Yeah," is Jamison's grunted response as he looks up toward the top of the cliff beside us.

"Who knew Illinois had landscape like this," I continue, filling the silence with boring chatter. I laugh into the darkness, forcing the sound out as loudly as I can. It echos off the walls, scurrying along the river and disappearing with the curve of the water.

"That was creepy," Jamison says, glancing at me with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," I agree, smiling. "It was an urge. Didn't want to waste an opportunity to laugh into an echoey creepy gully, you know? You guys should try it."

I barely even finish my sentence before Jamison starts cackling into the dark. The bubbly sound follows my laughter down the river before, it too, disappears. I smile at Seth's curly-haired friend, before turning to address Seth, but he doesn't let a single word leave my lips before he starts howling at the moon. I'm so thrown by the sudden action that I can do nothing but stand there watching as the muscles around his throat strain against his skin. When he glances down at me, his face is alight with a childlike satisfaction.

"That felt good," he says, before throwing his head back and howling again.

Jamison joins in and the two of them howl and bark into the sky for several seconds until a wailing in the distance suddenly blends into their wolf calls. They both stop, glancing at each other with eyes narrowed as they listen.

"What was that?" I question, unknowingly moving closer to Seth's side.

Images of some wolverine-like creature launching itself from the shadows and attacking flashes through my mind. I see claws slicing through flesh, blood pouring from gaping wounds. I see Seth lying unmoving as he blinks at me, unable to speak now that his throat has been ripped from his body. Something dangles from his empty right eye socket, causing bile to sting the back of my throat.

I shutter, shaking the thoughts from my head as I reach for his arm. Maybe I'm working to put some distance between us. Maybe touching him isn't the smartest thing to do when I'm desperately searching for a way out of this obsession I have with him. But, right now, I don't give a hoot.

"You scared?" His voice is soft as he whispers the question to me. He seems surprised by my reaction but anything but annoyed by it. The way his eyebrows are pulled together, shadowed eyes searching mine—that's genuine concern.

"That coyote is miles away," Jamison says, not bothering to lower his voice as he stands in front of us searching the tree line at the top of the ravine. When he turns around, his face is lit with excitement, a smile pulling at his face. "There's no way those things give a crap about us."

"And you know this how?" I question, letting go of Seth's arm even though he's made no move to step away from me.

"I hunt," he says, picking up a rock and skipping it across the water. The shadows pull it out of sight, denying me the satisfaction of seeing how many times it bounced across the surface. "Believe me," he continues, dusting his hands off on his jeans, "they're not concerned with us at all. If anything, they're probably headed further away now that they know where we are."

"So," Seth chimes in, rubbing his palms together, "that means it's time to have some fun."

"Fun—" My words fail me when Seth reaches for the hem of his shirt and slides it up over his head. He flings it onto a nearby rock and then stretches out his hand toward me.

"This should make you feel better," he says, pulling me toward him.

"You're right," I agree, not even bothering to hide the fact that I'm checking him out. "It really really does."

He laughs, shaking his head as he leads me closer to the water.

"Gross," Jamison comments, tearing off his own shirt and jeans and flinging them atop Seth's. "Looks like you got another fan, Seth."

"I mean... if you're talking about me being a fan of that," I point to Seth's torso, "then you're a hundred percent correct. But," I level my gaze at Seth, "don't even try to deny the fact that that's exactly your goal. You don't work out that hard not to be appreciated, do you?"

"Guilty," he admits, lifting a single shoulder shamelessly as he kicks off his shoes and socks and steps into the water.

"Well," Jamison starts to say, grunting when the cold water hits his waste, "you should be warned. There's a lot of competition for this highly sought-after bachelor, so you might have to act fast."

"Oh, believe me," I say, the certainty in my voice a complete contrast to the zing of nerves wrestling beneath my skin, "if I wanted Seth bad enough, I'd have him."

I'm proud of myself for remaining in control and keeping my tone casual, but when I glance up and see Seth's eyes on me, I deflate. He's watching me, head tilted as he considers my words.

"Is that so?" he asks, watching my reaction with intense interest. Seconds tick by before he breaks our connection and sinks beneath the water.

I glance briefly at Jamison just as Seth emerges, water trickling down his face. "Do I have a say in whether or not you have me?" he asks, rubbing the water from his face and narrowing his focus on me.

There's no anger in his words, but the way he's analyzing me has me wishing I could hit rewind. Regret is a hard emotion to stir in me, but Seth has a magical way of so innocently pulling it out of me. I should filter my words better around him.

"Naw," I finally say, grinning mischievously as I wave off his question, "that's not how my powers work."

"Powers?" Jamison's eyes widen with fascination. "Oooh, I wanna see how it works. Can you show us? Now?"

He obviously enjoys putting me on the spot. I think he finds pleasure in watching people squirm. Unfortunately for him, I'm not like most people.

"Hmm, I don't know," I say, slowly lowering myself into the water. "Let me see."

Standing, I drag my way toward Seth, my clothing tugging me down with the weight of all the water. I stop directly in front of him, his eyes still watching me intently. There's no humor dancing on his lips and I wonder if it has to do with my nearness or because he finds this entire conversation to be stupid. Based on what I know of him, I'd say it's the latter. Everything I've observed about him indicates he has no interest in seductive, fake girls.

I stand as tall as I can, my eyes aligning perfectly with his lips, but I don't dare look at them. I keep my focus on his gaze, mentally chastising my fingers for wanting to slide over his wet skin. I watch his eyes dance back and forth between mine, droplets of water sliding over his jaw and descending down his neck before kissing his shoulders. Seconds tick by as I make a fool of myself, and I know I'm only going to make it worse. But it'll be worth it.

Very slowly, making sure I have his full attention, I slowly start to cross my eyes. His head jolts back, confusion weaving between his brows. Then I twist and contort my face into what I can only imagine is the most grotesque expression he's seen displayed on a human face before. It's only when I start flaring my nostrils like a pair of tiny wings that he cracks.

I see the tilt of a smirk transform his face and I know I've managed to escape this entire embarrassing scenario. Yes, maybe I had to embarrass myself in the process, but it's far less humiliating than Seth believing I'm just another obsessed girl—whether I am or not is beside the point. But the truth is... my name is Mercy Nicholson and I'm a Seth-aholic. The recovery process is brutal.

"Dang," I finally say, letting out an exhausted breath. "So weird. That usually works!"

Seth chuckles as he drops beneath the surface of the water again, but Jamison simply rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile.

"He seems strong," Jamison suddenly says from beside me, and I turn to see him watching for Seth to resurface, "but years of damage has made him vulnerable." His eyes find mine. "Just be careful."

I watch his dark locks drip, the normally tight kinks now loose and almost touching his shoulders.

"What?" I finally ask, twisting to face him better.

"You like him, don't you?" It's more of a statement than a question, but when he turns, shadow-swallowed eyes watching me, I know he's waiting for a response.

Thankfully, Seth resurfaces before I'm able to align my thoughts, my reply safely tucked behind my lips.

"It's too bad, really," Jamison mutters, his eyes scanning over my body in a way that has a cold block of ice settling in the pit of my stomach.

"What is?" Seth asks, running his fingers through his hair and shaking away the water.

"That I just peed," he answers, earning a look of disgust from Seth who is standing downriver from him. "Just kidding. But I do need to. I'll be back."

Seth and I silently watch Jamison trudge his way out of the water and disappear into the trees a few feet from the embankment. Now I'm alone with Seth, and I'm not sure I can handle it. Because as much as I would love to get over this fantasy I have of the two of us together, I don't know how and it's way too stressful for my weakening resistance.

I watch Seth as he offers me a simple grin before lowering himself beneath the water yet again. I'm beginning to wonder if he submerges himself as a way of avoiding conversation. Maybe I've been too obvious and it's starting to creep him out, or worse... annoy him. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time I'd annoyed somebody, but usually, it's because I don't care. I'm not trying to impress them. Obviously, Seth is a little different.

I drop beneath the surface of the water to shield myself from the sudden chill as it sweeps its way down the river. Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself and wait. Seconds tick past and I can see nothing but blackness beneath the water. There aren't even bubbles or ripples—other than those expected from the current—to indicate where he is.

"Anybody have toilet paper by chance?" I suddenly hear Jamison holler from deep in the trees.

I scrunch my nose but can't resist a laugh.

"Oh, never mind," he yells, "This'll work!"

I shake my head in amusement, turning in search of Seth again just as something slick brushes past my thigh. I jolt away from the sensation, silently begging the moon for more light. I see a suspicious ripple of movement swimming against the current and heat ignites my veins as I turn to make my way out of the water. But I'm not quick enough.

It's firm and strong—a sensual sweep of smooth skin—as it glides across my leg and I freeze just as it slips beneath the hem of my shorts and wraps around my thigh. For a moment I let my thoughts wander, my insides stirring at the possibility of what it could be. There's only one other person in these waters right now, but as much as I'd love Seth's hands to be the culprit, human hands don't wiggle like this.

The realization has a small squeal escaping my lips, the slick foreign creature squeezing firmly into my flesh. I jerk my leg away from the feeling and my feet slip out from beneath me as I'm tugged beneath the water.

I don't manage to catch a breath before the water closes in around me, and I inhale what feels like enough water to fill a pool. I flail against the rushing water but can't shake the grip around my leg. Suddenly strong hands tighten around my upper arms and pull me to the surface.

Freedom burns my lungs and I cough, unable to catch a breath. Water explodes from my lips, and I vomit up the liquid I'd nearly drowned in earlier. It takes a moment of forceful gagging before I manage to gain control of my breathing. Inhaling, my body goes limp as I'm dragged to shore.

"Mercy!" Seth breathes, staring down at me where I lay sprawled across the pebble-covered shore. "What in the world! Are you okay?"

I nod, suppressing the need to cough again.

"I thought it was you," I manage to growl, my throat closed and aching.

"What was me?"

He leans back on his heels, one arm draped across his knee and the other gently resting on my stomach.

"Something—something was in my pants."

He lifts a thumb up to scratch his brow, his eyes searching my face for several seconds before a smirk breaks out across his face.

"And you thought it was me?...in your pants?"

I try to resist the urge, fearing the pain it'll cause my sore throat, but it can't be contained. Laughter echoes through the trees as realization sinks in and I push myself into a seated position.

"I mean, a girl can hope, right?" I tease, deciding humor might be my only hope of escaping this mortifying near-death experience.

Amusement dances in his eyes as he analyzes my response.

"Sure, I suppose." He shrugs, still eyeing me closely.

His smile hasn't diminished completely, but I can sense something shift. Maybe it's a hardness behind his gaze or the minor straightening of his spine, but whatever just happened, I can sense Seth closing himself off again. I think he wants to lighten up, but he fears something. Either he's more damaged than Jamison let on, or he finds even the thought of affection from me repulsive.

I shake off my concern and push my hair away from my face, curious as to why Seth hasn't backed away from me. He's still kneeling as I sit, his face level with mine as he observes my reaction to his words. So I smile, breaking the tension and lifting a single shoulder, unperturbed.

"Well," I challenge, "what if it was you? If you had something crawling up your leg, which would you prefer? A snake?" I pause briefly, eyes narrowed "or my hand?"

He tilts his head just enough for the moon's light to slice through his light irises. For a moment, they look as though they're glowing. The shadows around us seem to edge their way closer, circling us as his lips turn upward into a soft smile. I watch them part and I know he's milliseconds away from answering, and then...

"Holy Crap on a dead leaf!" Jamison bellows, clumsily making his way out of the trees. "That was... invigorating! I've never felt so one with nature in my life!"

"You're nauseating," Seth replies, his words barely a whisper as he continues to watch me. Then he clenches his jaw once before standing to face his friend.

For a moment I'm stunned, wondering if his words were in response to Jamison... or me. Just as quickly as I think it, I brush it away and stand to join the two boys.

"Nasty," Jamison groans, eyeing us suspiciously. "You two weren't making out or anything, were you? I mean, that stuff is supposed to be saved for the movie."

Seth and I stare at Jamison blankly.

Sighing, he groans at the sky and then turns to us again. "You two aren't actually dating! You are aware of this, right? Stop getting so comfortable with each other. It's all temporary and then we're parting ways."

Each word is like a nail to my chest, and I can tell by the glint in his eyes—which happen to be pointed directly at me—that that was his intention.

"In a couple of weeks, you two will be done," he adds. Stepping between the two of us he loops his arm around mine and looks down at me. "Might as well create some distance now so it's easier to leave when the time comes."

"Okay," I say, my patience cracking as I fling his arm off of me. "What is your problem? Are you in love with Seth or something? Why so possessive?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Jamison spits, stepping in front of me.

"Fine," I say, lifting my hands in defense. "Sorry for sort of forcing my way into your little clique of a friend group. If you want me gone so bad, maybe I'll just quit. You guys can have fun finding a replacement."

"No!" Seth's voice shatters the tension and Jamison and I both look at him. Horror shoots from his eyes as he swings his gaze between Jamison and me. Then he sighs, runs a hand through his wet, messy hair, and responds, his tone gentle, "Jamison, stop being a moron for once."

"I'm not—"

"And Mercy, you're not going anywhere." His words are so definite. There's only a sliver of room for arguing, and I take it.

"Okay." I nod a few times, tucking my hair behind my ears and tilting my head to meet Seth's hard gaze. "I'll stay with you under two conditions..." No one interrupts as I glance first at Jamison and then back at Seth. "First, you prove just how desperately you want me to stick around, and—"

"Look," Seth sighs, interrupting. "I'd rather make Jamison an orphan than go through the girlfriend search again."

"I feel flattered," I deadpan, rolling my eyes.

Jamison slaps the back of Seth's head, but he responds quickly with a slap of his own. The night air is suddenly filled with the sound of the two boys walloping each other over the head and the occasional 'ow' when one of them manages to get in a decent blow.

"Anyway," I interrupt, trying my best to sound bored since I know they can't see the smile on my face. "and number two," I lift a second finger, letting the suspense build, "you have to feed me!"

"Feed y—"

"Now," I interrupt Seth. "I'm practically dying. Buy me a midnight snack and I'll forgive you."

He chuckles at my theatrics and then shrugs, glancing at Jamison.

"Deal," he says, nudging with his head to where we've dumped our clothes a few rocks away. "We never ate our dessert... does that count?"

"No." I shake my head adamantly. "Absolutely not. I need a burger or some deep-dish pizza. Or something fried and rolled in sriracha."

"Alright." Seth lets out a sigh as he snags his shirt up, slides it over his head, and drags it down his damp torso.

Jamison is dressed by the time I pull my eyes away from Seth and I internally berate myself for lacking any smidge of restraint. It's as if Seth was created to be exactly what my eyes adore as some kind of tactic to torture my heart. I frown at my own thought just as Seth's arm slides around my shoulders and tugs me into his chest.

"By the way," he starts to say, his voice tickling my ear.

I feel my body tighten in his hold, anxiously awaiting his next words. He never got to answer my previous question and I'm dying to know how he really feels. Who's touch would Seth prefer? I mean, it's not really a fair question because I should win. I'd think most humans would prefer human touch to that of a snake, but Seth is truly a mystery. So, who knows?

"I thought you'd like to know," His voice is raspy as he tries—and fails—to whisper. "But Jamison is only being a jerk to you because he's completely obsessed with you."

I pull away from his hold to get a look at his face.

"Oh, right," I laugh, peering over my shoulder at Jamison a few steps behind us.

"Stop whispering about me," he grunts.

"Don't worry about him," Seth assures. "He just gets cranky when it's past his bedtime."

"You realize I can hear everything you're saying, right?" Jamison mutters. "And I will kill you for it later."

Seth's laughter surrounds me just as I hear footsteps approaching from behind. A squeal erupts from his throat as he takes off ahead of me with Jamison charging after him. And all I can do is watch as the two boys disappear into the darkness.

----

Mercy tends to overexaggerate embarrassing situations as a way of protecting herself and keeping the truth hidden. When in an embarrassing situation, does anyone here ever respond the same way Mercy does? You almost make fun of your own feelings so people don't realize they're real?