The crowd roared as the players tore down the court again. A wave came down the bleachers, and Amanda obediently rose and dipped with it. Courtney held up a pennant and cheered loudly. Jay leaped to his feet and began doing his own little cheer routine. Behind him, on the side of the basketball court, several of the cheerleaders scowled at him. Jealous no doubt, Amanda thought, because his moves are better than theirs.

Amanda had never been much of a sports fan nor had she ever gotten into the whole "school spirit" idea. But that was before she had her own posse of friends, two of whom were on the team. She had come to show her support for Brianna and Erica, but now that she was here, she was really enjoying herself.

Erica shot down the court, dribbling the basketball as she went. Just before she reached the basket, one of the opposing team players jumped out in front of her, blocking her path. She skidded to a halt and gracefully bounced the ball under the blocker's reach. Brianna came streaking up the far side of the court, grabbing the ball before it hit a second time, and doing a graceful layup.

A cheer went through the crowd. Brianna pumped her fist and yelled, "Oow, yeah." Erica rushed up to Brianna, gave her five, then the two darted back down the court ready for the next play.

Erica was the junior varsity team captain, and she shouted a constant stream of encouragement to the other players as she ran back and forth the length of the court-to everyone except Brianna that was. Brianna needed no encouragement. She played with a dark intensity. More than once, a guard buckled in the face Brianna's onslaught, out of fright as much as her skill.

The cheerleaders stood at the edge of the court, alternating between leading the crowd in cheers and turning to cheer the team themselves. A curvy, short blonde leaned out, her toe almost on the court, to shout encouragement at Erica as she raced past.

As she came back the other direction, the cheerleader stepped out and held both hands up to give her a high five. The two girls bumped bodies and half hugged, and Amanda thought she saw Erica kiss her quickly on the cheek. The girl's eyes followed Erica's progress with a heated look. Erica half turned when she was mid-court and winked at the girl. Amanda's gaze shot back to the cheerleader just in time to see a shy smile play across her face.

"What was that about?" she asked Connor. Connor shrugged.

"Don't play dumb," Courtney said. She leaned in close to Amanda and said, "That's Sierra Hewitt. Let's just say there are rumors about the two of them."

Their conversation was interrupted by the roar of the crowd as Brianna made another layup. They made a great duo with Erica seamlessly setting up Brianna time and time again. Their team was leading by almost ten points at the third quarter.

#

"Where is Darren?" Connor asked as he and Amanda stepped out of the high school gym. Most of the crowd was still lingering inside. It had been a big win for the JV team and a much closer win for the varsity team.

"He doesn't like crowds," Amanda said, and she rolled her eyes. Uncle Darren wasn't afraid of anything, other than too many people. To Connor she added, "Don't worry, he's just out on the street corner. I will be fine." When he lingered a moment more, she pushed him playfully, "Go congratulate your foster sisters on their win. I know you want to."

He smiled and said, "Thanks." He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

She sighed as she watched him go back into the high school. It was nice having a boyfriend, even if he got overprotective at times.

The night was dark, and there was snow on the ground. She made her way through the lines of cars, heading toward the street. Somewhere out there she knew her uncle was waiting in his truck.

About halfway across the parking lot, she felt the hair at the back her neck stand on end. Unsure what had given her creeps so suddenly, she looked around. She almost missed it at first.

Two figures were standing in the shadow of the opposing teams' two buses. One of the figures moved deeper into the shadows, and she heard a faint thud.

Amanda approached slowly, trying to get a clearer view. One of the figures had the other backed up against the bus-possibly the reason for the thud?-and was talking in a low voice. As she moved out of the streetlight and into shadow herself, and her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out the two figures. A shiver ran down Amanda's spine as she recognized both of them.

Even after all these months, she knew the man, the thinning hair, the vaguely rat-like face, the thrift-store castoffs. The girl was Rebecca Huff, still in her cheerleading outfit. She looked terrified but was rooted in place, squeezing herself against the side of the bus to put as much distance between her and the man as possible.

Part of Amanda's mind told her to run for it. But she knew she couldn't. Despite all of the terrible things that Rebecca had said to her, and about her, over the last few years, she couldn't just leave her. No one deserved the fate that awaited whoever got dragged off by that man, she was certain of that.

Amanda gathered her courage and banged one hand on the side of the bus. "Hey, is there a problem?" she called.

The man's head swiveled and took her in. Rebecca gave a soft squeal and ran the other direction. In an instant, she had disappeared around that side of the bus and was gone, leaving Amanda alone. Oh crap, now what?

The man covered the distance between them faster than she would have ever thought possible. It was like one instant he was half a bus length away and the next he was right in front of her.

"Well, well," he said, his voice thick and oily. "If it isn't Amanda."

She felt her blood chill suddenly. How does he know my name?

"That one would have been fun, but you're the real prize, aren't you?" he crooned. One hand reached out and brushed her cheek.

Part of her mind was screaming for her to run. A cold, rational part told her to stay. There was no way to outrun him now, and she didn't want to turn her back on him. His free hand moved, and she caught the glint of a blade in that hand.

He held it out a couple of inches from his body, making sure she knew it was there. "You don't want any trouble do you?" he crowed softly. "That's right, you don't. Just do what I say and you won't get hurt." His other hand disappeared into a coat pocket and came out with a roll of tape. "Now you are going to turn around very slowly and put both hands behind your back, like a good girl." His voice was low and hypnotic.

Amanda braced herself. There was no way she was going to comply. If he got her hands bound, it was over. She prepared to strike out, knowing it was risky. If he knew how to use that knife, she might be dead in a minute. I am dead if I go with him, though, and I'd rather die right here in the parking lot than in his van.

"Amanda!" Uncle Darren's voice called, deep and throaty. "Where are you?" The man gave a quick glance around. A huge shadow rose up in front of them. Amanda risked a quick glance as well. Her uncle looked twice as big as usual with the light behind him.

She glanced back, but the man was already gone, running back behind the buses and disappearing into the night.

"Are you okay?" her uncle asked.

"That was the guy," she said in a shaky voice.

"What guy?" he asked craning his head to spot the retreating figure.

"The one that tried to take that girl."

He spun around. "Hunter's waiting in the truck," he said. They both ran toward the street, where he was parked. Her phone rang as she ran. She spied Hunter's head in the truck's cab and slowed down to pull her phone out of her purse.

"Where are you?" Connor's voice shouted on the other end, hard and insistent.

"With my uncle," she replied quickly.

There was a pause. Connor's voice was filled with relief. "Rebecca Huff just came running into the school, screaming that someone had kidnapped you."

"Uncle Darren scared him off." Amanda said. "You were right. It's the same guy." And he knows my name. "I would have come back to the school, but Hunter was alone in the truck. We had to check on him first."

"He's okay?" Connor asked.

"He's fine."

There was another pause and then, "Dad says to go on home for now, and he will stop by later to get a full statement."

Amanda climbed into the passenger side of the truck and relayed what Connor had said. Uncle Darren had the truck running, his face a dark mask. "We can go home," Amanda said again. "Connor's dad will stop by and get my statement later, ask me questions and whatnot."

"If he'd hurt you, if he'd hurt either of you," he said in low voice. He was twisting his hands around the steering wheel, which was starting to crack under the strain, "I'd, I'd . . ." He finished in a low hum and did not elaborate on what he would do.

"It's okay," Amanda said to reassure him. "I am okay. I was not going with him without a fight. You know that. And then you'd have heard, and you'd have come."

"And splattered him all over the sidewalk," Hunter said.

Uncle Darren finally sighed and released some of the tension from his body.

As they pulled out and started down the street, Amanda looked out the window at the school. She caught sight of Jonathan's silhouette coming out from between two cars. As he walked under a streetlight, she had a glimpse of Jonathan raising his head and sniffing at the air, as if trying to catch a scent.

Then there was Tanner walking between two buses. He dropped quickly on all fours to look underneath. In the light spilling out of the school, she could see Erica framed by that light, both hands on Rebecca's shoulders as they talked. Connor and his crew were out investigating. She could understand his motivation, but the cops were already involved. What did they think they could do?

As the high school slid past them and into the night, she looked into the rearview mirror. She caught a glimpse of the biggest dog she had ever seen, with sleek golden fur, crossing the street behind them and disappearing into the night.

A couple of blocks later, she spied a van coming to life down a side street and pulling out. She pressed her face to the glass, trying to spot any details. Her glimpse was too little to make anything out.