“When will you Turners ever accept that it’s my town? It always has been,” Ezra said, taking a step closer to me.
I felt a fight-or-flight tension building inside me, and I worried that I was on the edge of an involuntary change. That I might feel the grinding ache of my bones and skin transforming. That my fear of him might overtake me.
“Fine, don’t believe me,” I said as I started to back away.
If I did need to flee, I’d be faster as a wolf, but it would take me a few minutes to change in the woods. I had an advantage in human form, since at least I’d be faster than Ezra if he ran at me, with his prosthetic slowing him down. It was probably better to get back toward the center of town, maybe run for the coffee shop.
“Gladys is alive,” I called out, “in case you were wondering. Or care.”
A flicker of relief showed in his eyes and his sneering lips relaxed for a second. Still, he said, “Doesn’t matter if she is.”
“Okay, then. Good luck,” I said, starting to back away. I’d done my duty. I’d told him what I needed to tell him, and if he wasn’t going to save himself and leave town, then I was out of there. I wanted to run, but I didn’t want to turn my back on him. I kept moving backward.
Until I heard them.
Paws, nails scratching on pavement. I swiveled my head and saw Jonah and Nathaniel in wolf form, slinking toward us.
“You stay back!” I yelled.
The guys didn’t listen. They advanced. I took a few sideways steps and then I started running. I ran along the cemetery fence, hoping that I’d be able to make the turn toward town.
Ezra laughed and then his shuffling footsteps joined the casual lope of the wolves. Nathaniel and Jonah didn’t even run. They knew they’d be able to outpace me easily. They weren’t trying to chase me. We all knew who’d win.
I ran along the road, trying to draw them toward the center of town, but then, in a burst of speed, Jonah zoomed ahead and rounded off fifty yards or so in front of me, cutting my exit route off. My stomach dropped. I scanned left and right, trying to see where I could run.
And then I saw where they’d led me. The woods.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone, not bothering to try to punch anything in, but using the voice command to call Morgan while I swung my gaze between Ezra and Jonah and Nathaniel.
“I’m near the woods by the cemetery,” I choked out. “They ambushed me. Please hurry.”
“Oh good,” Ezra called out. “We’d love to take care of that interloper once and for all.”
While I tried to think of what to do next, I kept moving. They were going to attack me, I was sure of that now. But I had no intention of transforming into a wolf. I’d force them to confront the human me. That way I’d have a voice, could call for help, climb a tree, something. I wasn’t going to let them attack my wolf. Not when I could defend myself better on two feet.
“We’ve saved you. We’ve helped you!” I yelled, trying to appeal to at least Nathaniel’s sense of fairness, knowing he actually had one.
In response, I heard a huff, then a guttural growl, probably from Jonah.
I moved deeper into the trees, wishing I had the extra-keen sense of sight that the Smith brothers would be using in their wolf form. The groves of cottonwoods, maples, and evergreens were thick, dark. I was almost to the path where the ravens had drawn me. Knowing where we were gave me comfort, no matter how cold. I wasn’t giving up.
“Again and again, we risked our own safety. For the good of your pack. For the survival of all of us,” I yelled. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
The wolves were panting. I could almost picture their lolling tongues.
Ezra shuffled in the brush, moving in the distance behind me. “Always wanting to think you’re such good wolves,” he said. “A family defect, to be sure. Your father’s and your grandfather’s defect. You can never be good! Not when you’re born into this.”
“I don’t believe that. We can all be good!” I countered, finding the path now, leading me to the ravens’ grove. “We have a choice.”
“Choice?” Ezra cackled. “A wolf’s nature is to dominate and kill. That’s how we survive.”
I stumbled over a thick root, barely catching myself before I fell. I used the tree’s trunk to right myself and glanced up into the dense canopy, hoping for a peek of moonlight—something to help guide me. The low-lying clouds and the mist continued to block the light. It only seemed darker the farther I went into the woods.
“Speaking of choices. Now I offer you one,” Ezra said. “Join our pack and we leave the rest of your family alone. We’ll even consider leaving town.”
I shuddered. I’d die fighting before I’d join the Smiths. “You have to leave anyway. The police know you killed Mr. Pinter and set those fires.”
“Again…it’s kill or be killed, little one,” Ezra said, his voice softening a little. “An age-old dilemma, and one a wolf must accept. Come with us, and we’ll leave town without any more bloodshed.”
“Or I could kill you right now,” I said, reaching down for anything I could hit Ezra with, a branch, a rock, anything heavy. My fingers felt around in the dark, desperately digging around on the ground. “Then this would all be over. The police would have their killer. Our town would be safe. How’s that for kill or be killed?”
Jonah emitted a long, snarly growl. My stomach tensed. He seemed close now, stalking me in the brush. I knew he could tear me apart. On the other side of the grove, Nathaniel’s steps fell on leaves and sticks.
Kill or be killed. If that was the wolf way, then maybe I’d have to embrace it to save everyone else.
My fingers touched a big rock in the leaves. I grasped it, trying to judge the size and heft in the dark. It might be heavy enough to crush a skull with enough force. But could I kill Ezra before Nathaniel and Jonah reached me?
My heart pounded as I picked up the rock and took a few steps backward. I could smell Ezra close now. Machine oil, the funk of musty wolf. His laugh, soft and mocking, swirled around me as I scanned the bushes for him.
It was all going to end right here. I was going to die in the woods.
But I wasn’t going alone.
Chapter Nineteen
Ezra grunted as he moved toward me, his hands out. His rough fingers grabbed my jacket, pulling me toward him into the dense bushes.
“No!” I screamed.
“Last chance,” he hissed as his hands clamped around my neck.
I kneed him in the groin and he yelped. I dug my left hand’s fingers into his wrists, trying to free myself, while I sent my other hand backward, trying to get momentum to bash him with the rock. If I could hit him hard enough, that would at least give me time to run. And maybe Jonah or Nathaniel would stop to try to help him up from the ground.
I slammed the rock to the side of his head. There was a crack and we both pitched forward, onto the ground. Ezra screamed. His fingers lost their grip around my neck and I coughed, trying to get a breath.
I smelled fresh blood. Old-man wolf blood.
I searched the ground, trying to find where the rock had fallen. I scrambled around, trying to keep an eye on Jonah and Nathaniel as they bolted toward me. My fingers found the rock again and closed around it. Relief flooded my veins. I wouldn’t have any problem using it again.
Jonah bared his teeth as he approached us, snapping at me as he growled, spittle foaming at his mouth. Nathaniel bent toward Ezra, whining, nudging his father. The old man’s eyes were closed and a stream of blood trickled through his white hair.
I backed up a little on my knees, holding out the rock. Then I climbed to my feet. “I’ll die fighting,” I shouted at Jonah. “Stay back!”
Nathaniel licked Ezra’s face and the old man’s eyes fluttered open.
Ezra rolled to his side, and then rose to a seated position, holding a hand to his head. With the other hand, he pushed Nathaniel away. He spat on the ground. Then a sneer floated back on his lips. “Finis
h her,” he said in a low voice. “This is a good place for that.”
Jonah pawed the ground, a dribble of saliva trailed from his muzzle as he stared me down. His growl made the hair on the back of my arms quiver.
“They’ll find you and kill you!” I shouted, looking around for another place to run. But the darkness was complete, the canopy of trees more like a shroud above us.
“Your coward of a father? Really?” Ezra said, wiping a trickle of blood from his temple with his sleeve. “He’s no alpha. He’s barely a wolf. Just like his father before him.”
I braced myself as Nathaniel turned toward me. He stalked forward, his dark gray body, though smaller than his brother’s, still imposing. His eyes were iridescent, even in the darkness. Any thoughts I’d had of him having a conscience, any goodness at all, faded away. His teeth gleamed in the low light. He looked to his brother for their next move.
Ezra had taken off his denim jacket and was unbuttoning his flannel shirt. I realized he meant to take part in my murder, in my dismemberment. He would tear me apart with his sons, all for sport.
I gripped the rock tighter. I’d make a run at Ezra, at least try to hit him again before he transformed. I’d finish him if I had to.
All of a sudden, bright light filled the grove.
I startled and froze in the glare. It wasn’t coming from above. It was materializing all around us, enveloping us in its glow. The two wolves backed away from me as a swirl of black birds, some seeming real, some translucent, spectral, appeared around us. The ravens had come back to the grove. Ezra let out a cry that sounded painful, as a ghostly figure walked toward us. Jonah and Nathaniel whimpered, the bright light of the vision reflected in their eyes.
“No!” Ezra croaked out.
Millicent, adorned in her Marie Antoinette costume, floated closer to Ezra, her beautiful smile transforming into a scary, contemptuous mask.
I felt my mouth go dry. The rock fell from my hands. If I’d thought she was a sad, pathetic spirit before, a victim, this vision was anything but. There was fury in her eyes. I took a step back into the trees, feeling as though I should use this diversion to run. But I didn’t want to look away from this terrifyingly gorgeous creature.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Ezra stammered. “Charlie was ruining everything. If you’d only been my bride, then none of this would have happened.”
“You killed them,” I murmured, turning my attention to Ezra. “You were jealous and found them here together during the 1957 Harvest Festival. You made it look like a murder–suicide, but someone knew the truth. That’s why you left town after the murder!”
Ezra fell back on his heels, his head drooping. “I never meant to hurt her, but she was here with him. I found them together.”
Millicent floated in my direction, beckoning me to continue.
“You only meant to kill Charlie. But you knew she loved him, that she’d tell what happened. So you killed her the same way, execution style,” I said, seeing the complete murder scene in my mind now. Millicent’s memory of it played out in front of me. The two lovers, meeting in this grove. Secretly, because Millicent was known to associate with suspected wolves, and Charlie was a legacy of the hunting group, his mother from the Miller family. Ezra had surprised them, interrupting their rendezvous. “Who’d suspect a wolf of killing someone with a gun, when he could easily have turned and torn them to bits,” I continued.
Ezra spat on the ground. “Then they buried them together,” he said, his voice quavering. “Adding insult to injury.”
“You didn’t have to kill them,” I said. “Millicent didn’t hate werewolves. She just didn’t like you. And you killed her for the rejection.”
“You don’t understand. We belonged together.” Ezra’s face was a mask of pain. He approached her, arms outstretched. “Forgive me, dearest,” he called out to the spirit. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Millicent shook her head, the curls of her Marie Antoinette wig rippling. Anger rekindled in her eyes, glowing dark, blood red. Malevolent.
“Watch out!” I called, but my voice sounded strangled.
Millicent moved toward Ezra as if to kiss him, but instead made a sucking motion with her lips. Stunned, he fell to his knees, but she was still attached to him, face to face.
Behind me the wolves howled in terror, backing away into the trees.
I screamed as Ezra’s body began to deflate, as if all the energy was being pulled out of him. He began to crumple, looking thinner and thinner, until at last he fell forward, facedown, a sack of skin and clothes. His life drained away.
My hands were shaking, so I grasped at a tree trunk for stability. Millicent turned and floated toward me. My breath caught in my chest. Behind her, the ravens, ghostly and real, swirled and cawed. I said a silent prayer that my death would be quick. That I wouldn’t suffer.
Millicent paused, hovering in front of me. Then she touched a finger to her lips. Shh. Her whisper blended with the whoosh of ravens’ wings.
Behind me, I knew both Nathaniel and Jonah were transforming into human form. Maybe the horror of seeing Millicent and what she’d done to Ezra had forced the change. I doubted they’d be trying to fight a ghost. Their bones crunched and their howls turned into groans from the torturous physical change.
Grateful to be alive, I scrambled to my feet. I backed away, toward the path that led to Falls Park.
Meanwhile, Millicent bent down over Ezra’s body. Her expression took on the rage again, the hate. But then the spectral birds swirling around her evaporated into smoke.
Out of the smoke walked another figure. I recognized the specter of Charlie Walsh. Dressed in his Harvest Festival costume—buttoned velvet coat, breeches, powdered wig—he was still clearly handsome. He looked at Millicent with a sad smile. He took her hand, guiding her away from her inspection of Ezra’s remains. Her fury quickly transformed into a loving look at her partner. They were two spirits visiting their final destination here on this mortal plane, so many decades ago. Without so much as another glance at me or the other werewolves, Charlie and Millicent faded away.
I took off running before the Smith brothers were fully transformed. As I ran, I realized I’d done Millicent’s bidding after all.
I’d led her murderer into the woods. And she’d taken her revenge.
Chapter Twenty
“Lily!” Morgan called, running toward me through the mist in Falls Park. The low-lying clouds were breaking up overhead and there was the slightest bit of moon.
“Here!” I shouted. When he reached me, I collapsed into his arms. I drank in the smell of him, his warmth. I felt so cold, so exhausted.
“Your message had me worried,” he said, kissing my hair.
Words were trapped behind the lump in my throat, the horror of what I’d just seen taking full effect. “I’m all right,” I managed to say.
Morgan released me and pointed toward the woods. A light was still radiating in the haze, brightening the sky above the trees. “That’s where you were?”
I nodded, shuddering. Morgan grabbed my hands, warming them with his own.
Just then, a squad car drove up. The sheriff rolled down her window and I could see Cooper riding in the passenger seat. “Where are Ezra Smith and his sons?”
“Ezra’s dead,” I said. “He chased me into the woods and tried to strangle me. I hit him on the head with a rock.”
The sheriff got out of the car and came over to me. “Oh my God, Lily!”
“Nathaniel and Jonah were there. They chased me deeper into the grove.”
“Why would that old man do that?” the sheriff said.
Cooper was out of the car now and at my side. “You don’t have to say anything, Lily. You might need a lawyer. I’ll call Spencer Jones and get him to accompany you in any kind of interview.”
“Wait a second. She’s not under arrest,” the sheriff said, shooing away Cooper.
“Ezra Smith killed Millicent Cardew and Charlie Walsh in 1957 during the Har
vest Festival,” I said. “I think his DNA would match if you tried to test it today.”
Cooper cleared his throat. Right, I didn’t need to suggest any DNA testing.
“Anyway, I figured it out,” I said. “To shut me up, Ezra chased me into the woods to kill me at the original scene of the crime.”
“So why did he torch Ms. Wilson’s house?”
“Millicent’s house. Maybe he thought there might be evidence there that would’ve led you to him.” That wasn’t the real reason, but it fit the story, I figured.
The sheriff shook her head. “If he was the real killer, why wasn’t he arrested years ago?
“A coverup,” I repeated. “Someone on the inside at Town Hall. Mr. Gray, maybe. Ezra left town after the murder. He met Jonah and Nathaniel’s mother sometime after that and never needed to return. But his wife died, and that’s why the Smiths came back.”
“And Gladys?”
“Jenkins. She’s like a stepmom to the boys, but she’s not a Smith.” The mention of Gladys had me turning to Morgan. He gave me and Cooper a nod, as if to say, she’s fine for now.
Just then, thick smoke started billowing up from the woods. The sheriff looked at me, but I had no idea what was going on, though the thought that Nathaniel and Jonah might be burning Ezra’s body struck me. I’d seen the gas cans in the back of Ezra’s truck, after all.
The sheriff grabbed her radio. “Mac, I’m gonna need help in the woods east of Falls Park. There’s another fire.” She paused and then added, “If the coroner’s wrapped up at the Wilson place, send him this way, too.”
“I’ll go with you,” Cooper said.
“You’re not armed,” the sheriff replied, shaking her head.
“Still, I’ve got your six. I’d like to make sure Nathaniel and Jonah aren’t in there, waiting to jump you.”
The sheriff gave him a strange look, as if she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the Smith boys being less than ideal citizens. “You,” she said, pointing at me, “plan on reporting to the sheriff’s station in a couple hours so I can take your statement. You want to have Spencer Jones there, that’s fine by me.”
A Light So Cruel (Pioneer Falls Book 3) Page 21