Hunted by Adam Slater Page A

estate up the hill.”
    â€œI asked about her , not her cousins.”
    Callum ground his teeth with frustration. “Gran, look, I don’t know those things about her. She doesn’t know those things about me either, except what I told her this afternoon. Those aren’t things that matter about a person. The things that matter, you’d like. Melissa’s clever. She does well in school, and the teachers like her. She reads all the time, she loves books. And she’s—”
    Callum remembered how Melissa had nearly put her hand in the fire. He wasn’t sure he could call her honest or loyal, but he knew that she was brave and trusting. And something, his Luck maybe, told him that she was genuine . She really did want to help him.
    But he’d hesitated too long over the right word. Gran interrupted sharply.
    â€œThe best thing you could do for a friend like that is try to straighten her out. What was she wearing? All that alternative fashion nonsense, crystals hanging around her neck, those silly tattoos! All she needs is a few paper charms pinned to her skirt. I’ll bet she calls herself a Wiccan. What’s she trying to be, some kind of witch? You watch out, Callum—”
    Callum was so angry he didn’t wait to hear the rest of Gran’s tirade. Shoving the drop-leaf table out of the way, he grabbed his homework and stormed upstairs.

    The impact of his dramatic departure was somewhat lessened when Callum had to come back down to make tea. He’d forgotten it was his turn, and he knew that even after a row, Gran would be expecting him to stick to the routine. If he didn’t, there would be no supper at all.
    He clattered around in the kitchen, making as much noise as possible. Then they ate a silent meal together. There had never been such a frosty atmosphere between them. If the cottage was too small to keep secrets in, it was even more cramped to share with an enemy.
    After tea, Callum marched back upstairs and spent the evening in his room. Sitting alone in the cold for a couple of hours made him realize how pleasant it really was sharing the fireside with Gran on a windy November evening.
    At last, Gran went to bed too. There was no shifting of furniture tonight; maybe she suspected Callum might still be awake and didn’t want to risk giving away the location of her hidden occult library. Despite her reaction to Melissa, Callum didn’t think Gran suspected he might have discovered it.
    The books … As he turned the thought of them over and over in his mind, Callum was only half aware of Gran getting ready for bed next door. The books held answers, he was sure of it. Answers she seemed determined to keep from him. The idea of all that knowledge sitting downstairs, just waiting to be discovered, was torture. What he had said to Melissa was true—he couldn’t risk moving any of the books out of the cottage. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take another look at them. If he was careful …
    His mind made up, Callum counted to two thousand after Gran’s light went out before he dared to move. Cadbury sighed in displeasure at another midnight disturbance, then got up and stretched. For a moment, Callum was afraid the cat was going to come downstairs with him and get in his way. Shutting him in the bedroom wasn’t an option, as Cadbury was bound to yowl for the door to be opened. But instead of following Callum to the door, the cat leaped across to his post on the windowsill and stared out into the darkness. Then he gave a low, rumbling growl of warning.
    â€œWhat’s going on out there?” Callum whispered. “You make me nervous, Cad.”
    The growl was a sound Callum rarely heard from Cadbury. The cat did lunatic acrobatics sometimes, and Callum was permanently at war with him over the number of dead birds left on the patio, but Cadbury had an easygoing and friendly nature. The strange growling was totally out of