Wolf Cursed (Lone Wolf Series Book 1)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  If I wanted to survive, it was up to me now.

  Knowing it would only make things worse, I pulled my leg back and shoved my foot into his groin.

  Vorack groaned and doubled over, stumbling away. “Bitch,” he roared.

  The guy who’d hit me, Frank, chuckled. “She sure has some fire in her.”

  “I like a good firecracker,” Vorack said, his expression twisting to something cruel and sinister as he straightened.

  He reached for me again, and this time, whatever struck him, it wasn’t me.

  Thunder boomed, and the trailer shook. Windows shattered, sending glass flying in all directions. I closed my eyes and shielded my face as tiny shards landed in my hair and against my forearms.

  The men around me yelled and rushed at my father.

  I opened my eyes and froze at the scene before me.

  My father had . . . transformed into some sort of monster.

  Either that, or the demons we were always running from had caught up and taken over his body.

  His skin was broken open with bones sticking out at unnatural angles. Blood leaked from the wounds, but the worst was his eyes. Glowing and without a hint of humanity left, they were trained on Vorack. He hopped up onto all fours and bared his teeth—canines that had elongated to look like fangs.

  Fear gripped me, unlike anything I’d felt before. My father was gone. In his place was a demon from Hell. And I couldn’t be sure he didn’t want to drag all of us—me included—back there with him.

  Chapter Two

  My father—or the monster inside him—snarled while thick drool dripped from his sharpened teeth. At the sight of him advancing toward them, Vorack and his men fell over one another in their scramble to get out.

  “Go,” Frank screamed, shoving past the others.

  Glass crunched underneath their boots, and I watched, unable to tear my eyes away, as my father—or the monster he’d become—moved slowly toward the open door. He watched as Vorack and his men raced into the yard and across the driveway toward their car.

  I took a slow step backward, terrified of whatever that thing was. Fur had sprouted in some places, obscuring the protruding bones. And his mouth was elongating into a kind of snout. He looked like a demon straight out of a horror movie.

  Except this was real life.

  What the hell had happened to my father? And how was I going to fix him?

  “Dad?” I called tentatively.

  The thing swung its red-eyed gazed toward me.

  Fear sent me backing away. My father—the demon—didn’t move.

  That was a good sign.

  Recognition flared in his glowing eyes. “Ash,” he said, the sound of his voice distorted.

  Still, it was him. And he recognized me.

  Maybe he wasn’t going to hurt me after all.

  I took a step toward him.

  A gunshot rang out, loud and sharp enough to make me jump.

  I sucked in a breath and watched as my father, or the monster that had taken him over, flew backward into the wall. He hit hard enough to leave a hole the size of his broken body before sliding to the floor. Blood poured from a hole in his chest, and right before my eyes, the demon-form receded, and my father’s body and bones returned to their normal appearance.

  He lay limp and still, in a growing puddle of his own blood.

  “No!” I rushed forward, forgetting Vorack, forgetting the demon my father had just become. Forgetting it all.

  Nothing else mattered except saving him.

  “We’ll be back to collect,” Vorack yelled. “One way or another.”

  Outside, the engine revved, and Vorack’s car spewed gravel as he hit reverse and drove off like a bat out of hell.

  I didn’t even look up to make sure they’d all gone. Instead, I collapsed to my feet beside my father and pressed my palms to the gunshot wound on his chest. Already, his shirt was drenched in blood. This wasn’t good. I had to call for an ambulance.

  “Dad,” I called, half-sobbing. “Dad, please hang on.”

  My voice broke, and I started to climb to my feet, to find the phone. My father’s hand shot out and gripped mine, holding me in place. His eyes flew open, and he looked up at me, his gaze intent and not at all like that of a dying, drunk man.

  It was the clearest I’d seen him in months.

  “Ash, listen to me. Take the money in the freezer,” he said, his voice strained. “Take it and the car and go. Now, tonight. Don’t wait for Vorack to come back.”

  “Not until you get to the hospital,” I said.

  “A hospital can’t help me,” he said, wincing and then gritting his teeth.

  Every time he spoke, the blood seemed to spill faster.

  “Dad, please,” I said.

  “Ash, listen to me. Go to Ridley Falls. Find Oscar, my brother. He’ll help keep you safe. Your mother—”

  He broke off, squeezing his eyes shut, and his head lolled to the side.

  “Dad,” I sobbed, still pressing my hands to his wound, for all the good it did.

  My dad took a ragged breath and looked at me again. I could see the pain reflected in his eyes. This was costing him.

  “Dad, don’t say another word,” I told him. “I’m going to call for help. I’ll be right back. Stay with me.”

  “Ash.” His hand gripped my wrist with not nearly the force needed to stop me. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t make myself walk away. In the back of my mind, I knew he wouldn’t be breathing by the time I returned from making that call.

  A sob built in my throat at the thought.

  “Ash, I love you. I’m so damn sorry. For all of it.” He sighed, and it was the saddest sound I’d ever heard. “Your mother thought it best, and I . . . all I ever wanted was to protect you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. For her. For you.”

  “Forget Mom,” I nearly screamed. “I’m here. Do this for me. Survive for me.”

  Stay sober for me.

  It was everything I’d wanted to say for years. But I bit my lip and pleaded instead with my eyes.

  With shaky fingers, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a familiar pendant. “Take it,” he rasped.

  I started to shake my head.

  “Ash, I’m not asking.”

  “I told you I refuse to wear anything that came from her,” I spat. Even now, he was trying to bring my mother into this. To make it seem like she was still a part of this family. She wasn’t.

  “Not for her,” he insisted, shoving it at me. “For me.”

  I took the pendant, squeezing it inside my fist with one hand while still holding pressure to the gunshot wound on his chest with the other hand.

  “It’s important,” he said, his eyes intent on mine now. “Put it on, and don’t take it off, okay? No matter what. Promise me.”

  For once, I didn’t argue or roll my eyes at the one thing my mother had left when she abandoned us.

  “Promise, Ash,” he repeated.

  “I promise,” I said quickly.

  He reached up with his free hand and cupped my cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the bruise I could still feel throbbing from where that asshole had punched me earlier.

  “No matter what happens, don’t let them cage you,” he whispered roughly.

  Then his hand fell, and his expression went slack.

  A sob ripped from my throat, and this time, I didn’t bother holding it back. For a long time, I sat there, hands still pressed to a wound that couldn’t be healed. Blood pooled until I was covered in it. My face swelled until it pulsed with my own heartbeat. The only heart in this room still beating.

  Finally, the sky behind me began to lighten.

  Something about the breaking of a new day snapped me from my grief, and I forced myself to accept what had happened—and to get up. I moved like I was in a haze. Brain fog made my thoughts fuzzy, my movements methodical.

  Vaguely, I supposed I was in shock. But what could I do about that? What could I do about any of it?


  On autopilot, I grabbed the cash from the freezer and a bottle of water from the fridge. Then, I snagged the car keys from where I’d dropped them hours ago.

  It felt more like days. Like last night had been a nasty nightmare. Not real. But then I saw my father’s body lying in the entryway, and I had to face the reality of what had happened all over again.

  Pausing at the back door, I used our landline to dial emergency services and report my father’s body. He would have told me not to bother, but I couldn’t leave knowing he’d be lying here for who-knew-how-long before someone found him. When they asked my name, I hung up.

  In the light of dawn, I stumbled my way to the aged sedan Dad had hustled from a desperate used car salesman back in Kansas City a few months ago. The air conditioning didn’t work, but the windows did. I slid into the driver’s seat, numb and lost.

  After a long moment, I pulled out the pendant and fastened it around my neck—a white crystal carved into the shape of a crescent moon. It sat cold and still against my chest, a weight I’d long refused to accept no matter how many times Dad had tried talking me into it before.

  My mother couldn’t be bothered with raising me, so why should I let her off the hook by accepting her stupid necklace?

  But it was different now. It was all different now.

  Reeling and completely drained, I stowed the cash in the glove box and started the car. At the main road, I hesitated, trying to decide where to go. Dad’s instructions rang in my mind. Ridley Falls. His brother. Oscar. Whoever the hell that was. He’d never mentioned any family before. It had always just been us. Him and me against the world. And Mom. Until she decided not to include herself.

  I opened the glove box and checked the map Dad kept there. A cell would have been easier but our minutes had run out two months ago and there hadn’t been money to afford more.

  According to the map, Ridley Falls was nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Right smack in the middle of nowhere from the looks of it. More rural than even this town.

  That’s where Dad wanted me to go?

  Somewhere so remote I’d have zero chance of blending in? This from a guy who’d always insisted that I not let myself be seen for fear it would bring monsters to our doorstep.

  I almost decided against it, but then I thought of Vorack and his parting promise to return. The monsters had already come to my door. They’d kicked it in and taken the one person I had in this world. If I didn’t get someplace safe, somewhere off that asshole’s radar, I was going to end up like my father.

  And the one thing I refused to become was my parents.

  With resignation and a heavy heart, I made the turn that would take me to Ridley Falls. To a family that couldn’t possibly be any more terrible than the one I’d left behind.

  Chapter Three

  The drive took me two days. Even that was probably impressive considering how many times I had to pull over and cry. Altogether, I made it through three states and four mountain passes—nearly all the way to Ridley Falls—before the car gave out. Steam leaked out from underneath the hood but more concerning was the thump-thump-thumping of something that went along with it. I’d ignored the noise for the last hour, but there’d been one last loud thump and then the engine had died. I barely managed to pull over to the shoulder before the tires stopped coasting.

  By then, according to the last sign I’d passed, I was five miles out from the town’s limits. The last car that passed was miles back, and in the fading light of dusk, the tree-lined road had a quiet sort of vibe that was comforting.

  With no other choice, I stuffed the cash from the glove box into my bra, re-adjusted my sunglasses, and started walking.

  It wasn’t long before the night sounds of insects surrounded me and my footsteps faded into the background until all I could hear were my own thoughts and the cricket’s song.

  Images flashed in my mind as I followed the road. The memory of my father being shot. The way he’d transformed into some sort of demon beast.

  I might have begun to believe I imagined that part if Vorack and his men hadn’t fled the way they did.

  A few tears slid down my cheeks as the loss hit me square in my chest. A hollowed-out hole formed where once there had been love, safety, security. My father had been paranoid, terrified, and erratic, but he’d been mine. And now he was gone. And I was alone. Surviving was all on me now.

  Inevitably, my thoughts drifted to the bookie. Vorack. He’d promised to be back, and I had zero doubt he meant it. Ten thousand plus interest. I’d been in my father’s toxic world long enough to know it would take twice that to get those assholes off my back, and even then, they could just as easily kill me as let me walk away.

  A cool breeze whispered through the trees and down my spine, making me shudder. Suddenly, I was keenly aware of how quiet it had become. No more night sounds. No more anything. Just…stillness.

  The feeling of eyes on me scraped along the back of my neck.

  When I turned to look, there was no one there.

  I forced myself to keep moving.

  Steady pace.

  No running or I’d only attract whatever predator was out here. Absently, I clutched at the pendant I wore. My last promise to my father. I wasn’t about to take it off, no matter how much shit he’d put me through.

  I still wasn’t ready to accept he was really gone.

  Or that this Oscar guy I was headed toward was my only family left.

  Although, whatever awaited me in Ridley Falls had to be better than my life leading up to this. That’s what I told myself as I forced one foot in front of the other.

  The feeling of being watched never went away, but soon, lights from town came into view, and I relaxed. If someone or something was going to try and hurt me, they wouldn’t wait until I’d strolled into public to do it.

  The first building I came to was a gas station.

  Pushing my way inside, I approached the clerk and waited for him to notice me. The kid couldn’t have been older than sixteen and was just beginning to sprout that first attempt of facial hair.

  It didn’t take long for him to finish stocking the cigarettes and turn around. When he did, he stopped and stared, eyes wide.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Um.” I glanced down and realized I still wore the same clothes—sweatpants and an oversized tee covered in blood. Shit. At least I still had my sunglasses on. “I’m looking for Oscar.”

  “Oscar Lawson?”

  Weird. My last name was Langford. Shouldn’t they have the same name? I didn’t have the energy to decipher it though.

  “Is there another Oscar in this town?” I asked.

  “Well, no,” he said after a pause, still staring at my face like he’d never seen a chick with a swollen cheek before.

  I rolled my eyes. Or tried to. It hurt. “Okay, so Oscar Lawson…” I prompted when he didn’t say more.

  “Right. Yeah, uh, he’s over at the shop.”

  “What shop is that?”

  “Oh, uh.” He closed his eyes and shook his head as if clearing the image of, well, me. Damn. I must have looked like a hot mess. “Twisted Throttle Repair Shop. Next block up on the left. Can’t miss it. Just look for all the bikes.”

  “Thanks.”

  I turned to go, and even without looking back, I had zero doubt the kid stared at me all the way out of the parking lot.

  Despite the kid’s instructions, I did, in fact, almost miss it thanks to what looked like some kind of tailgate party parked nearby that blocked my view. I ignored the catcalls—from both men and women—and kept my head down and my sunglasses on despite the twilight hour. The smell of cigarettes and marijuana drifted toward me. Music blared from someone’s stereo—and a few girls in short skirts stood on the hood of a Jeep, writhing to the beat. Making a wide arc around the dance party, I strode past a couple making out in the bed of a pickup truck and a pyramid of beer cans poised on the hood of a Camaro.

&nbs
p; Damn. For a Monday in a small town, this place was pretty wild.

  Maybe it was a town holiday or something?

  Just ahead, I finally spotted my destination.

  Twisted Throttle had an aging sign hanging above a two-story building on the corner that looked old enough to be historic but was still well kept from the looks of it. And yes, there were bikes.

  Except they weren’t bicycles like I’d expected.

  Motorcycles were parked along the curb lining the front and side of the corner lot. At least eight that I saw. With more in the back, I noticed, from my quick view of a paved lot enclosed by a chain-link fence.

  A set of two large garage doors faced the side street and were currently closed up tight. On my left, the side street dead-ended into thick woods that encroached on the side and back of the building. It made the place feel secluded despite sitting on the very edge of what looked like a quaint little downtown area just past the shop. Even from here, I could smell the pine scent of the forest wafting out to welcome me.

  I looked away from the call of the tress to the shop’s front door and approached slowly. My exhaustion and the shock of everything that had happened muted my fear, but I knew enough to be watchful of my surroundings. A threat could be lurking anywhere.

  The sign in the office window read Closed, but I grabbed the knob anyway.

  Unlocked.

  I pushed my way inside and inhaled the smell of oil and engine grease.

  Underneath all of that, the pine scent of the woods still lingered, and I appreciated the sense of comfort it brought even if I couldn’t understand it. I’d never felt comforted anywhere in my life.

  Maybe it was because I’d finally stopped looking for demons and ghosts. Why should I keep worrying about being hunted down when my dad had turned out to be the beast we’d feared all along?

  Absently, I reached down and brushed a hand over my right hip to be sure my shirt and pants covered the skin there. Habit. Then I plucked my sunglasses off and looked around.