by Nancy Holder
“I’ve been hunting for you everywhere,” he said. As she stared at him, he came up to her and offered his cheek. Her knees rubbery, she tried to rise on tiptoe to kiss him, but she was rooted to the spot.
Then he gathered her in his arms, embracing her, and rocked her back and forth. “Remember when you used to dance on my feet? My little gal. My gal.” He sighed against her hair. “Where’ve you been, Corry?”
“Um, oh, here and there,” she said hoarsely. He was lost in one of his delusions.
“I’ve missed you. I can’t sleep when you’re not home.” His voice was whiny and petulant. “I worry so much about you. High time you got yourself a mate, so someone else can do the worrying for me.” He chuckled. “They’re all so scared of me, no one wants to declare for you.”
“Right, Daddy,” she managed to say.
“I didn’t know you were sweet on Justin,” he said, pulling back. His eyes were glazed, like someone in a bad movie pretending to be hypnotized. It was terrifying.
Did you bite me? In secret? Is it because you’re crazy?
“Yeah, too bad he’s my cousin,” she said with a fake laugh.
“Why should that stop you two kids?” His chuckle was deep and warm. “Didn’t stop me and your mama.”
“Oh, well, that — that’s great,” she stammered.
He beamed at her. “Justin is perfect for you. You two could mate and lead the pack.”
“Wow, yeah.” She pushed tendrils of her hair away from her face and licked her lips. “We’d both like that.” She was playing along, and playing for time, expecting Justin to check in on her soon. Surely he had detected the arrival of their alpha.
“You go find him. Bring him here.” Mr. Fenner raised a hand as if in blessing. “I’ll make it official.”
“Sure, okay,” she said, seizing her chance to escape. “Back soon.”
She whirled on her heel and took off running.
And collided head-on with Lucy as the other girl stepped from behind a tree, her lips pulled back in a grimace of attack.
16
Katelyn took an involuntary step backwards, giving Lucy a wide berth. Lucy’s eyes were practically glowing, and she bared her teeth at Katelyn as if she were in wolf form — losing control, Katelyn translated — and she swept back her arm as if getting ready to slap Katelyn as hard as she could. And even though Katelyn had dreaded seeing this side of Lucy, she was so terrified of what was happening with Mr. Fenner that relief flooded through her like a river.
“Lucy, oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” Katelyn said in a rush. “You have to help me. He — he thinks I’m her, I’m Cordelia.”
“Don’t say that name,” Lucy snapped. But she stayed her hand, and uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
“He kept calling me by her name. And saying he’s been hunting for me. I tried to play along because I didn’t know what else to do.” Katelyn could hear the panic and misery in her own voice and she wondered if Lucy could, too.
A moment later Mr. Fenner called out, “Cor, where are you? Let’s go and tell Justin the good news. Your wedding. I’m so happy.”
Consternation washed over Lucy’s face and she whined softly. Lucy was just as distressed as Katelyn was.
“Let’s get out of here,” Katelyn whispered.
Lucy stood silently for a long moment, and then shook her head. “You go. I’ll deal with this.” She smoothed her hair, then made a wide berth around Katelyn and started walking in the direction of Mr. Fenner’s voice. “Uncle Lee, there you are,” she said, sweet as honey.
Katelyn didn’t stick around to hear what was going to happen next. She took off running toward the house. She’d made it to her Subaru and was reaching for the door handle when a hand closed around her wrist and spun her halfway around.
It was Justin, eyes wide. “What the hell,” he muttered.
“Did you see?” she demanded. “He thought I was her.”
“He’s getting so much worse,” Justin said, more to himself than to her.
“I’ve got to get out of here.”
She expected him to argue with her. But he didn’t. He just nodded and let go of her wrist, then walked slowly back toward the woods.
Katelyn got in her car and blew out of there as fast as she could, her tires fishtailing as she swerved onto the main road. Her heart pounded as she imagined what was happening with Lucy and Justin and Mr. Fenner. A fight? A challenge? What if Arial or Regan caught wind of it? Neither of them seemed willing to take the title by force. Were female werewolves just as physically strong as their male counterparts?
Blinking, she cranked her radio sky-high and clenched her hands around the steering wheel. If something happened, they’d call her, wouldn’t they?
She got home and brooded until dinnertime, braced for a phone call, an email, something. Nothing came.
“Everything okay?” her grandfather asked her over a piece of fried chicken. She was eating steamed vegetables and they tasted like cardboard.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” she blurted.
He blinked at her. “Haven’t given it too much thought. This something for school?”
She pushed wisps of her blonde hair away from her face. “I’ve just heard a lot of people say there are a bunch of ghost stories around here.” She studied him while she took a sip of water. “A friend back home said she saw a ghost when we were kids and I — I was just thinking about it while I was driving home,” she lied.
“I’d like to think people move on when they die instead of being stuck here,” he said.
His choice of words made her want to laugh. Stuck here. Like me. Maybe I’m a ghost.
“I know people believe in all kinds of things like Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster,” she said, trying desperately to sound casual as she pushed some peas around her plate. “What do you think? You think vampires and werewolves might actually exist?”
She counted off the seconds before he chuckled and set down his fork. “I know they’re popular with the kids and all, but I just don’t see vampires as being real. I mean, think about it. The undead?”
More silence passed. He didn’t say a thing about werewolves. She wanted to persist — to make him speak — but she was afraid that if he wasn’t suspicious already, then he’d know for sure something was up.
So she just nodded and focused her attention back on her meal. Later, when she went to bed, she couldn’t remember eating a single bite.
~
Monday morning rolled around and she still hadn’t heard anything from Justin. The silence was driving her crazy. Despite their twisted relationship, she cared what happened to him. Though she tried to remind herself that he was pretty much her jailer, and that their attraction to each other was just physical, she also remembered how he had risked his life to save a little girl; that he was kind to Jesse; and that he was suffering over his uncle’s deterioration.
And he came from a world of high passions and brutality. Katelyn was beginning to grasp that the many dead parents of the werewolves she had met weren’t “hunting accidents,” not in the way she had originally assumed. Had they died challenging each other? Or had they been killed for violating the rules of the pack?
The thought that death — murder — might be so commonplace sickened her. What difference would it make to them if a few humans died, too? Mr. Fenner had talked about six dying back when he was eighteen. The three recent deaths — possibly four, if Mr. Henderson had been killed — had to have been caused by werewolves.
Or the Hellhound.
She got in her car and drove through the forest, seeing shapes that weren’t really there. Or weren’t there currently. Wondering about Justin. About what would happen if he became the alpha. About what would happen to Mr. Fenner.
And to her.
~
She got to school early, which was her plan. Trick’s Mustang was there and she took deep breaths for courage as she walked through the main hall, looking for him. He had gone silent as so
on as her grandfather had told him that he and Kat were going to the Fenners’ for Thanksgiving. She had let him have his snit.
Finally she saw him about ten feet ahead of her, ambling along in boot-cut jeans and cowboy boots. She was about to call his name when he turned around. He was scowling, and she took a step back, which he didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah, hi,” she said.
He made no reply.
“So Thanksgiving sucked,” she said.
“Stop. Don’t even,” he said harshly. “What do you want?” He shifted his weight, impatient, huffy.
“‘Stop. Don’t even,’” she mimicked. Then she grimaced. “This is stupid. They invited us and Grandpa said yes without asking me. Just like he decided we’d stay in our cabin instead of going to your house if we got snowed in. He didn’t ask me about that, either. But he did agree that Justin is Lucy’s boyfriend, and he doesn’t need to do any more background checks on my known associates. We’ll do Christmas.” She raised her brows. “And I’ll unwrap thousands of dollars in gymnastics equipment.”
“Sure,” he said, but he still looked completely furious with her. And his hands were trembling badly. In fact, scrutinizing him, Katelyn saw shadows under his skittering, bloodshot eyes; he almost looked like someone on drugs.
“Mr. Sokolov.”
Mr. Hastings was standing in front of the door to the office, his face somber, arms crossed.
“Yeah?” Trick asked, in the exact same surly tone he’d used with Katelyn.
Mr. Hastings didn’t like it, either. “I need to see you in my office.”
Trick headed off toward the principal without even a parting word.
Katelyn turned and set off for her history class, glancing up at the stained glass window of the saint with the wolf. Patron saint of Haunted High. Katelyn’s secrets were making her invisible. Cordelia had had to disappear into the woodwork, too, losing all her friends. The one time Cordelia had held out her hand — to a stranger, to someone aching with homesickness and reeling from the death of her mother — it had backfired on her. And the rest was a terrible nightmare.
I wish I’d never met her, she thought mournfully.
A text came in, and equal parts of relief and dread washed over her when she saw that it was from Justin.
We need to talk. See you after school. Our house.
No part of her wanted to go back to Psycho Land, but she knew she had no choice.
Trick didn’t show at lunch, so she didn’t know what was up with him, either. When the final bell rang, she kept a lookout for him as she hurried to her car. Then her phone rang. Justin.
“Don’t come,” he said, voice tense.
She went cold. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry.”
“Right,” she said sarcastically. “How is your uncle?”
“He’s not the issue,” he said. Then he hung up.
“Well, thanks for the update,” she said to dead air.
And the reprieve. But it wouldn’t last long.
The full moon was coming.
And Trick, already in his Mustang, was driving away.
The next few days flew by. Trick stayed moody and distracted. And distant. He didn’t tell her why Mr. Hastings had invited him in for a chat, but things had definitely cooled between Trick and the administration. Coach Ambrose told her that the gym equipment would arrive during the winter break and they’d get the team started during second semester. Whatever Trick had done, the goodwill he had bought with the equipment had been used up.
Questions about Trick would have to wait. The moon was waxing, and it would be full on Saturday night. Her aggression levels were rising at an almost uncontrollable rate as she’d been warned they would. After a lot of worrying, she’d finally just told her grandfather that she was going to spend Saturday night at Paulette’s house, that their friendship was progressing nicely, and she crossed her fingers that he wouldn’t find a way to check up on her. She wished she could let Paulette in on her cover, but she was sure the other girl would ask too many pointed questions about where Katelyn was really going.
Friday, she was tense and irritable, as if at any moment she was going to burst apart and a wolf would throw back its head and howl. She was a wreck. This time she knew for sure she was going to change, and she knew it would hurt. A lot. She also knew that she’d wake up with the taste of blood in her mouth.
When the final bell rang, she grabbed her books and hurried to the parking lot. She had just dumped her belongings in the back of the Subaru when she heard a familiar laugh.
“What’s the matter, Sokolov? I told you if you kept driving that way, sooner or later there’d be an accident.”
The hair on the back of her neck lifted. A few spaces away, Trick was standing open-mouthed, staring at his car. All the windows had been shattered, and there were dents in the body.
And on the sidewalk, doubled over with glee: Mike.
The one who had hurt Trick over and over.
The one who made so many lives miserable.
Before she realized what she was going to do, she found herself standing in front of him, practically nose to nose. From the way he blinked in surprise, she realized she must have moved fast, faster than she should have.
No matter. All she cared about was stopping him from hurting anyone again.
He saw her. Gave her a sexy smile. “What do you want, sweet—”
She balled up her fist and rammed it against his pig nose. She heard a satisfying crunch sound even as pain radiated up her arm. As he reeled, blood spurted from his nostrils and she could smell it, sharp and clear and it called to the wolf deep inside.
She growled and lunged closer. She felt hands grabbing at her, dragging her back, and she turned and snapped, barely missing biting Trick’s hand as he jerked it away from her. She saw the surprise in his eyes and it penetrated the growing fog in her brain.
Don’t bite him.
“You bitch!” Mike shouted, holding his nose. “I am gonna kill you!”
She had almost bitten Trick. Stunned, Katelyn stopped struggling and let him pull her away, beginning to shake as the adrenaline dissipated as suddenly as it had come. She could hear Mike screaming and swearing behind her, but he wasn’t her problem anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Trick. “So, so sorry.”
He shook his head. “Look, it’s fine. Just come here with me.”
She came out of her daze as he was leading her into a small park. The place was deserted. It was cold enough that she could see her breath. Framed by glowering clouds, Trick was watching her closely. Then he led her over to one of the swings and sat her down on it.
“Easy there, slugger,” he said.
She wrapped her hands around the icy chains and tried to force herself to just breathe in, deep and easy. After a moment Trick wrapped his hands around hers. They were warm and strong.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’m right here,” he said.
She leaned her head against his chest, breathing him in. After a minute he circled behind her and gave the swing a little push. She lifted her feet off the ground and he gave her another push.
“Dang,” he said after a minute. “I’d hate to see what would happen to him if he trashed your car.”
She smiled wanly. He pushed her again. Without thinking, she pumped her legs.
“How high do you want to go?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“I want to fly.”
And he pushed so hard she nearly fell off the swing, but she kept her balance and swung her legs back. He kept pushing and she kept swinging, shifting her weight back and forth, building up speed and momentum. She flew toward the sky and then fell back to earth over and over.
The rush of wind was exhilarating and she felt like her old self. She could fly. She could escape all the violence and stupidity of Wolf Springs. And she could do it with Trick.
At the height of the arc she let go, launching
herself into the air. For a moment she hung, weightless, and it was everything she had ever dreamed it could be. Then she began to fall. She could hear Trick yelling, but she would show him what it was really like to fly. She did a back flip and prepared to land on her feet as the ground came rushing up to meet her. She could do it. She was agile as a cat and strong as a werewolf.
And then she saw Trick beneath her, arms outstretched. She twisted at the last moment so she would land in his arms, parallel to the ground. He caught her and dropped to one knee. She looked up at him and there were too many emotions colliding in his dilated eyes.
“How was that?” she asked, breathless.
“You shouldn’t scare me like that.”
She tilted her head sideways and gave him a little grin. “Why not?”
He didn’t smile back. “Because I’m crazy about you,” he said simply.
The words hung between them in the cold air, shimmering, sparkling.
“I’m crazy about you, too.” Her heart was soaring and breaking at the same time. There was a terrible kind of agony admitting it out loud, but there was also the most wonderful sense of release, as if the words had been bottled up for so long that they had just exploded out of her.
“I know things have been crazy. That I’ve been . . . there’s something wrong with me,” he said, dropping his voice down to a whisper.
“There’s something wrong with me, too,” she whispered back.
They contemplated each other warily, hopefully, as if each one was daring the other to go first. To confess. To reveal.
“You’re seventeen. Life can’t be this tangled up for you,” he said.
“Can’t it?” she asked him, letting him see all her misery and pain. “Look at me.”
He hung his head.
He thinks it’s because of him and all his drama.
She kissed him. He responded, and she could feel all his yearning. She twisted in his arms so that she could wrap herself around him. He was on his knees, still holding her.
He loved her. She knew he did. Knew that he would do anything for her. She wanted him, wanted to be with him, couldn’t imagine her life without him.