chapter 2
Katelyn pushed away from the door. She hadn’t heard a shot. What did that mean — some kind of silencer? Maybe it wasn’t a bullet hole after all.
She knew who would know. Her grandfather — Dr. Mordecai McBride. Katelyn had called him Ed when she had first arrived, after her childhood nickname for him of “Extra Daddy.” When she didn’t call him “Grandpa”, of course — the name she knew he loved her to use.
But she stopped herself with a hand on the banister. She couldn’t tell him anything. Mr. Fenner had told her he would kill her — and her grandfather — if she said a word about her new life.
Maybe the shot was just meant to scare her, remind her that she was being watched and the stakes were the highest if she made a mistake.
Had Justin known someone had been waiting out there in the darkness?
Her knees wobbled and she plopped down in the chair in front of the computer station she, Trick, and her grandfather had set up a few hours earlier. She could feel her heart pounding and she struggled to calm herself down. They’d only shot once. A warning, surely.
Listening to each creak and groan of the trees outside, she sat in the darkness, stiff and fearful.
Katelyn.
Katelyn.
You can’t hide.
I know who you are.
I shall do thee mischief in the woods.
Soon.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Claws on the hardwood floor.
Click.
Katelyn.
She jerked awake, lifting her neck painfully. She had fallen asleep at the computer. Had someone called her name?
She guessed it was early morning from the way the light was streaming in the windows. Stretching her neck left and right, she pushed back, and for an instant she thought she detected something else in the room, a clicking like toenails on the hardwood floor. She froze, listening. But she couldn’t hear anything.
“Ed? Grandpa?” she called softly. “Is that you? Are you up?”
No answer. But the sense that she was not alone grew stronger.
Her hair stood on end as she rose and took a deep breath to steady herself. She looked at the rifle on the wall and walked over to it. Put her hand on it and listened.
When she’d first arrived in Wolf Springs, she would have flown upstairs to her room and hidden under the covers if she’d felt freaky-scared like she did right then. But now she had people to protect — her grandfather and Trick. And maybe, just maybe, Cordelia was in the house, seeking shelter.
The werewolves of the Fenner pack had been ordered not to help Cordelia in any way, on pain of death. Katelyn had been there when Lee Fenner had issued the command, and he had singled Katelyn out. In front of everyone, he had forced Katelyn to swear to be loyal to him as the alpha and to obey him no matter what. She knew she had to prove herself to Mr. Fenner, and to the pack, to survive.
It was crazy, especially since the reason Cordelia had been banished was because she had been protecting Katelyn. Cordelia had known there'd been a chance Katelyn was going to turn into a werewolf, but she had wanted to know for sure before going to her father with the shocking news. Swearing not to help Cordelia when Cordelia had sacrificed everything in helping her was just wrong.
But he had forced her to swear. Technically, though, she wasn’t a Fenner werewolf. Mr. Fenner hadn’t given permission for her to be changed, and there was no proof that a Fenner werewolf had done it. Ergo, she owed him no loyalty.
And he’s not here. At least, that was what she told herself as she took the rifle down and made her way into the kitchen. And if Cordelia had come to her, Katelyn would do all she could for her. Cordelia was the one Katelyn was loyal to.
The back door flew open and she jumped back. Her grandfather stared at her, clearly startled as he stepped into the house. She sagged against the counter. “You startled me,” she said.
“Seems like,” he answered, eyebrows raised. He looked at the rifle.
“What — what were you doing outside?” she asked, then winced as she realized how paranoid and suspicious that sounded. And after all, Wolf Springs was a place of possible danger. Two girls had died this year, one of them killed in the forest just before her arrival and the other soon after. No one knew what had killed them, but it had people plenty shaken up.
Mordecai lifted one hand and she noticed that he was carrying a log. “Fire needed it,” he said with a grunt. “Log’s already dead,” he added.
Katelyn felt like an idiot. He took the rifle and walked out of the room. She busied herself making coffee to hide how jittery she was feeling. She was exhausted and was beginning to think about having to go over to the Fenners. She didn’t know how she’d stay awake to drive out, let alone make it back.
Which could be moot if they want to kill me.
The phone rang, and she grabbed at it.
“Don’t come here today,” Justin said. “Stay away.”
Her grandfather walked back in the room and headed to the sink to wash his hands.
“Um, but, what about our project?” she said into the phone.
Justin hung up. She replaced the handset and stared at it for a moment. She was getting what she wanted, but why? Had Mr. Fenner decided to get rid of her? She wished she’d been able to tell Justin about the night before and being shot at. If she’d had his number she could have texted him.
“She still mad at you?” Mordecai asked as he dried his hands.
Katelyn jerked, startled. “What?”
“Trick told me you and Cordelia had a fight.”
“When did you talk to him?” she asked, her voice shrill, and she knew she had to calm down. “Yeah, it’s . . . bad,” she amended.
“She seems like a handful. Hard to be friends with.”
“Her whole family’s kind of weird.” She winced. She probably shouldn’t have said that. And she felt a prick of disloyalty for it. She poured a cup of coffee for each of them, adding the cream and sugar.
He took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “I figured we’d go into town in a bit. We’ll check to see if your new tire is in, and you can go to that store you like and get something for the Cirque show.”
Relief flooded her. She would much rather be in town with him than waiting here at the cabin wondering who was spying on her, and whether whoever had shot at her was going to try again.
~
After breakfast Katelyn hurried upstairs to shower and get dressed. When she came back down she was at least feeling a little better, a little more awake.
“I’m ready,” she said as she hit the bottom of the stairs.
He was holding the sweatshirt she’d been wearing the night before. She felt shaky. How could she have been so stupid to leave it out?
“Oh, sorry for being a slob,” she said, practically grabbing it out of his hand. She took it, ran back upstairs and tossed it on her bed. She had to get a grip. If she acted like nothing was wrong, he would assume that nothing was wrong.
Heading back downstairs, she forced a smile onto her face. “Let’s go,” she said.
They drove toward town in silence. Fortunately, she was getting used to silence around her grandfather. Today, especially, it was a blessing; she had too much going on in her head to chat.
They went through the dark tree tunnel; then, on the crest of a hill, she saw that the town of Wolf Springs had replaced the Halloween decorations with baskets of holly and ivy hanging from the lampposts. Many of the doors of the Victorian buildings sported cheery winter wreaths. Thanksgiving was almost here; and after that came the Christmas vacation. A sign had gone up in a vacant lot announcing that Christmas trees would go on sale that weekend. To Katelyn there was an air of rebelliousness to all the festive cheeriness, as if Wolf Springs was fighting back against whomever — or whatever — had mauled those two girls to death.
“If we bought a Christmas tree in L.A. this weekend, it would be a brittle mess by December,” she said.
Her grandfather surprised her with a laugh. “I know. Used to be day after Thanksgiving that we got a tree. But once the snow hits everyone becomes more isolated, so we get started a lot earlier around here. Better to have some festivity while everyone can enjoy it.”
Isolated. A few days before, she wouldn’t have believed it would be possible to be more isolated than she was. But with the loss of Cordelia, and the fact that she had to protect her grandfather and Trick from her secret, she felt more isolated than ever. If they were snowed in on a full moon night . . . she looked out the window and clenched the arm rest.
“What happens when the snow hits? I mean, with school and everything?” she asked.
He shrugged. “On the bad days? No school. Rest of the time, snow plows keep the roads cleared. Of course, it’s easier for the folks who live in town. Everybody just takes it one day at a time.”
One day at a time. She couldn’t think like that. She had to make plans, contingencies. She would have to talk to Justin about it. Surely he and the others knew what to do.
But why would they? In their world, the pack was made up of families. They didn’t have werewolves living with non-werewolves. It was one more thing that made her different, one more way in which she was a liability.
One more reason for them to kill her.
The storefront blurred past, and then they pulled up outside Babette’s. The store’s windows still held memorial signs for Haley and Becky — the two girls who had died. Would there soon be a missing person poster going up with Cordelia’s face on it?
“I’ve got some errands to do, and I figure you don’t need me hanging around pressuring you to buy something with a longer skirt or a higher neckline,” he said with a half-grin. “So, why don’t we divide and conquer?”
“Okay. Meet at Cowffeine after we’re done?” she asked.
“Sounds okay.”
She slid out of the car and then stood on the sidewalk as he pulled away, before turning and walking inside the shop. Her grandfather was in control of her money, meager as it was, until she turned eighteen, and she had only a few dollars to spend.
Babette’s was a funky consignment clothing store with fashions and disasters from several decades crammed in together. Cordelia had told her it was the place to go shopping and had taken her there a couple of times.
Babette, an attractive middle-aged woman, looked up from a crossword and then hopped off her stool and came around to Katelyn.
“Kat! How are you?”
“Good,” Katelyn said, tamping down her rush of anxiety. It hurt to come into the store without Cordelia. And not to be able to tell a single soul that Cordelia’s own family had driven her out.
“What can I help you with?”
“I’m just looking for a dress for a night at the theater.”
Babette’s eyebrows shot up. “A play, around here? I haven’t heard of anything.”
Katelyn shook her head as she surveyed the racks, mostly to cover her discomfort. “No, actually, it’s in Little Rock. My grandpa is taking me to see the Cirque du Soleil. The tickets were a birthday present.”
“Well, a belated happy birthday, dear!” She beamed at Katelyn. “I’m sure we can find you something special.”
Katelyn tried to politely wave her off. “I can look on my own.”
“Nonsense. Birthday girls get the royal treatment.”
They moved among the racks and Katelyn felt awkward as Babette kept up a steady stream of chatter, pulling first one, then another dress out for her inspection.
“I’m surprised Cordelia isn’t with you today,” Babette said.
Katelyn inspected the price tag on a blouse she had no interest in buying. “She’s . . . not feeling well.” She didn’t know what else to say. She wondered just how the Fenners planned on explaining her absence to people.
Babette pulled a sad face. “Oh, that’s too bad.”
“I think I’ll try on this one,” Katelyn said, reaching for a little black dress.
“Oh, I bet that will look just lovely on you, dear.”
Katelyn headed back toward the front of the store and stepped into one of the two dressing rooms. She slipped off her jeans and sweater and piled them on the minuscule bench, then took the dress off the hanger. Just then, the bell over the front door chimed and she could hear footsteps.
“Hello, Babette,” an older woman called.
“Well, hello, you two. Do you need any help?”
“Here it is, Mama,” a younger woman said. “This is it.”
“I think we’re set, Babette,” the older woman said.
Katelyn pulled on the dress and tried to look at herself in the mirror in the cramped dressing room. It seemed so strange that she had last been there with Cordelia and it felt weird to be picking out a dress when so much was going wrong. She nearly laughed at the thought — she had said nearly the same thing to her friend when they were trying to pick out Halloween costumes. Cordelia had insisted, though, that the show had to go on.
The door to the other dressing room opened. There was a lot of rustling, and then it closed again.
“What’s wrong with Steve?” the older woman whispered. “He’s a catch.”
“Catch? Mama, please, are you serious?” the younger woman whispered back. “Besides, his daddy will make sure he marries up, you know?”
Katelyn paused. The only Steve she knew in town was Steve Berglund, a werewolf who had been one of Cordelia’s suitors. They couldn’t be talking about him, could they?
The older woman made a snorting sound. “Well, Dan’s big plans for that died when . . . she . . . did.”
Katelyn’s heart stuttered. It was werewolf Steve they were talking about. Steve Berglund's father was named Dan, and he had wanted Steve to marry Cordelia. They were talking about Cordelia as if she were dead. But she wasn’t, only banished. Unless they knew something she didn’t. She moved closer to the wall, listening intently.
“Do you think Mr. Fenner will change his mind?” the younger woman murmured.
“I know you liked her, sissy, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. She’s gone.” Her voice rose a little. “And I’m certain Mr. Fenner knows what is best for his family.”
Tears welled and Katelyn shut her eyes tightly, relieved that Cordelia wasn’t really dead — not that they knew — and miserable because she lived in a world now where things like that were a real possibility.
“I’m still not going after Steve,” the younger woman said.
“Then why are we here?” her mother replied with asperity.
There was a sudden knocking on Katelyn’s door that sounded as loud as gunfire. She jerked, but managed to keep silent.
“Kat, honey, how’d that fit?” Babette asked.
“Umm, fine,” she said, freaking out. The mother and daughter in the other dressing room would have to know that she’d overheard them.
“Well, come on out here and let us see,” Babette insisted.
Katelyn opened the door and stepped out, smoothing down the dress. It was black, simple and elegant with white straps, a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt that swirled just above her knees. She knew it showed off her legs well. She executed a little turn, then smiled at Babette — a smile that faltered when the other dressing-room door opened.
“Perfect,” Babette said, cocking her head, appraising her. “What do you ladies think?”
“Lovely,” the older woman said, a chill in her voice. Katelyn recognized her at once: her name was Myrna, and she was a werewolf.
“Looks like everyone needs something special,” Myrna’s daughter said. Katelyn had forgotten her name, but they’d been forced to kiss each other’s cheeks when Katelyn had been introduced to the pack — the standard method of greeting from werewolf to werewolf within the pack. She was pretty with tapered, curly hair that framed a cherubic face, big brown eyes, and cupid-bow lips.
“This didn’t work,” the girl added, fingering the fabric of the dress she wore.
“We’ll find you the perfect dress, Hannah,” Babette said.
Hannah. The name suited her. Hannah glanced sideways and gave Katelyn a hesitant smile and Katelyn smiled back.
“Ladies, you’ve all met, right?” Babette said cheerfully.
Katelyn nodded slightly.
“How are you, Kat?” Myrna asked.
“Good,” she lied. “You?”
“Just fine.”
And this couldn’t be more awkward if we tried.
“You know, I think I’ll take this,” Katelyn said to Babette. “Let me just go get changed.”
She hurried back into the dressing room and quickly put her other clothes back on, then forced herself to walk back out. She saw with relief that Myrna and Hannah were at the very back of the store so she hurried over to the cash register and presented Babette with the dress.
“You looked so pretty in this,” the older woman gushed.
“Thanks.”
Babette put the dress in a bag. “Tell Cordelia I said hello and not to forget about those winter formals I’ll have coming in.”
“I will,” Katelyn said faintly.
She hurried out onto the sidewalk and lost her composure for just a second. She guessed it was to be expected. Sooner or later she had to run into other members of the pack in town by accident. She’d just hoped the day would come much, much later.
She walked toward the coffee shop, grateful for cold, crisp air that made her blood sing — a brief moment of pleasure. Before Wolf Springs, she’d lived her whole life in southern California where it rarely got this cold, but she liked it.
She walked inside Cowffeine, the cute little coffee shop that sported a cartoon cow wearing an enormous cow bell on its sign. She ordered herself a hot chocolate and sat down at a table near the windows on the far side of the café with her back to the door, not eager to encounter anyone else she might know while she waited for her grandfather to finish his errands. She made a mental note to ask Justin how she was supposed to handle accidental meet-ups with other pack members. Should she treat them like friends, strangers, or acquaintances?
“This is so screwed up,” she whispered to herself.
People were talking around her, but Katelyn tried to focus on her hot chocolate, how it smelled, how it tasted. Then she heard footsteps behind her. They came to a stop.
“Hey, sexy. Whassup?”
She froze. No way. Not now. Then she pivoted and looked into the face of Mike Wright, resident asshat of Wolf Springs High, and his smarmy smile vanished.
“Oh, it’s you,” he managed, clearly shocked.
“Uh, yeah, who did you think it was?” she asked, her anger rising. He was a bully and a jerk who had dissed Cordelia at every chance, and he was always baiting Trick. She knew the two boys had been in a couple of actual fights and she was sure he was the one who’d slashed Trick’s tires on her first day at Wolf Springs High.
He flushed. “Someone a lot hotter than you,” he said, before turning and stalking toward the front of the café.
She forced herself to take a deep breath. Of all the people to accidentally hit on her. She felt her lips curl in disgust.
Shoot me instead. She was only half joking.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside and she turned around just in time to see Mike through the picture window. He was taking a swing at Trick, who must have been on his way in. Taller, panther-lithe, sinewy and agile, Trick easily ducked the punch, and Mike tried again. This time Mike connected with Trick’s jaw and Trick’s cowboy hat blew off as his head snapped backwards. Recovering, he swung back, hard, and socked Mike in his doughy midsection. Mike staggered, balled both fists, and lunged at Trick again.
A surge of heat rushed through Katelyn as she flew toward the door.
She wanted to see Trick beat Mike senseless. She wanted Trick to kill him. She really did.
Her vision telescoped, as it had been doing ever since the bite, and she could see Trick’s green eyes blazing with anger and surprise. The bruise already forming on his square, mocha-brown jaw was ugly proof that Mike deserved a world of pain.
An arm came around Trick and grabbed him across the chest. Katelyn blinked and her vision went back to normal as, with a start, she realized that it was her grandfather who had hold of Trick. The muscles in the older man’s arms flexed as he struggled to contain him. Another man was dragging Mike away from Trick.
Katelyn joined the coffee-house customers spilling outside. Her grandfather looked like he was now lecturing Trick. Trick was standing a few yards away, head bowed deferentially, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.
Mordecai McBride looked up and saw Kat. He walked over and took her bag from her. “We’re parked over there,” he said, pointing across the street.
“I’ll just be a minute.” Katelyn looked over at Trick, and her grandfather grunted and headed for the truck.
She walked up to Trick, awkward and tongue-tied, although why should she be? He’d been in plenty of fights before. But she couldn’t help but stare at the bruising around his jawline. A thrill ran through her and she took a deep breath. Apparently her inner wolf approved of the fight.
“Hey,” she said. “Can I get you anything? Ice pack? Anger management classes?”
Trick looked at her, shoulders hunched and wearing a scowl that sharpened the angles and hollows of his face. Even sullen and tousled, he was breathtakingly hot.
“What happened?” she asked, more kindly.
Trick reached out, pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. Over his shoulder Katelyn spotted Hannah and Myrna staring; Hannah had apparently found a dress because she was carrying a bag, and Katelyn felt a fillip of fear. She didn’t want them reporting back to Lee Fenner that she had a boyfriend, and a human one at that. That would put Trick in even more danger than he already was.
She pushed him in the chest, just hard enough to get him to let go and step back. “We’ll talk later,” she whispered, afraid that the other werewolves would hear but knowing that she had to say something to him. Then, before he had a chance to respond, she walked toward the truck.