Unleashed (43 page)

The two sisters began to laugh. Mr. Fenner just shook his head. But Justin looked away.

He lied to me
, she realized.
He
is
afraid of it
. That frightened her even more.

Then Mr. Fenner stood.

“If you breathe a word of this, you are dead, and I mean that. So is your grandfather. We can make it look like an accident, and we will.”

She felt as though he had just thrown her into a frozen river. Chills rushed down her spine, and her heart thudded.

“I won’t say anything,” she assured him. She took a deep breath. “But my grandfather is expecting me soon.”

He scowled. “Damned inconvenient.”

She swallowed hard. “I-I’ll call him if you want. I can say Cordelia invited me to stay another night—”

“Don’t say that name!” Mr. Fenner roared.

“How are we ever going to make this work?” Arial moaned.

“That’s not your business. That’s my business,” Mr. Fenner snapped. He looked at Katelyn. “Can you behave yourself if I let you go?”

Regan made a face. “Daddy, are you sure—”

“What did I just say to your sister?” he yelled at her. She held up her hands in a gesture of innocence and cleared her throat.

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“Take her home,” Mr. Fenner said to Justin.

Justin pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket and headed for the door. Afraid to look at Mr. Fenner, in case she did or said something to make him change his mind, Katelyn turned and followed him without a word. She couldn’t wait to be out of there.

“I’ll be sure to let Lucy know you’ll be missing … dinner,” Arial called after him.

“Bitch,” Justin muttered. But they were far enough out the door that only Katelyn heard it.

Outside, the air was crisp; pines swayed in the gusty wind. “We’ll take the truck,” Justin said, opening the passenger door of Cordelia’s truck. She was hyperaware of him, tensing when, this time, he wrapped his hand around her forearm to help her climb inside.

“Thank you,” she said, easing onto the seat and dropping her hands to her lap to break contact. “I feel like I’ve been up all night.”

“You have,” he said shortly.

She flushed. “That’s right. My new double life.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.” He slammed the door.

What if I don’t want to get used to it?
she thought.

He went around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel, shutting the door and putting the keys in the ignition. He started the engine and backed the truck up the driveway, then eased out onto the road.

She tried to look past him to catch a glimpse of the house, wondering what was going on in there—if they were talking about her, if Mr. Fenner was having second thoughts about kicking Cordelia out of the pack. She swallowed. Cordelia blamed her, probably hated her.

The truck picked up speed, leaving the Fenner house behind. Katelyn reached out a hand toward Justin, then quickly pulled it back. She was bewildered by the change in him. More than that, she was afraid of him. But she had to put that fear aside. She had to try to help her friend.

“Justin, don’t take me straight home,” she said. “Let’s look for Cordelia. While she’s still close.”

He didn’t answer.

She leaned away from him as the truck bounced along the unpaved road. Peering into the darkness, she searched the trees for her friend, not really expecting to find her this close to the house. She imagined her fighting her way through dense forest, lost, alone. The tears came, and she cried softly. Justin remained silent.

Then her cell phone rang. She caught her breath and slid it out of her pocket. Disappointment rushed through her when she saw that the call was from her grandfather. She shook her head at Justin, who had glanced at her and raised a brow.

“It’s my grandfather.”

“Kat, your and your grandfather’s lives depend on how convincingly you can lie to him, and keep lying,” Justin reminded her. He sounded as if he was going to be the judge of her performance, and she wondered if he was supposed to report back to Mr. Fenner about how well she did.

She licked her lips and nodded, then took the call.

“Hi, Grandpa,” she began. “I’m on my way home.”

“Okay, honey. But listen, we’ve had a little trouble here.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What? What happened?” she asked, looking over at Justin. He raised a brow again.

“I’m fine. But we’ve had a break-in. Someone jimmied the back door while I was in town last night. I got Officer Patrick here. And Trick.”

“Trick?” she said. Her stomach did a flip. Justin cocked his head, looking curious and a little impatient. She cupped the phone. “Someone broke into our cabin,” she murmured to him. Then, into the phone, she said, “Why is Trick there?”

“He came by with a late birthday present for you. Something he made. Looks like only a couple of things were taken. Grandma’s sterling silver carving set and a couple of pictures off the wall. Patrick thinks it was kids.” He huffed. “I had the silver out to polish it up for Thanksgiving dinner. Hold on.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Hey, Kat.” It was Trick. “Your grandpa’s okay.”

She exhaled deeply, her body beginning to tremble from the intensity of her pent-up emotion. “Thank you, Trick.” Her voice caught on his name.

“I’m sure it was the same clowns who got me in trouble in the first place,” Trick went on. “This time I’m in the clear.”

“That’s good.” She could hear how strained and odd she sounded. Justin was glaring at her. She had to do better.

“I just thought you’d like to know,” Trick said, clearly puzzled by her muted response.

“Yeah. I’m glad.” She tried to clear her throat. Failed.

“See you soon,” he added.

Katelyn disconnected and stared at the phone. Justin turned his attention to her.

“They think some kids did it,” she said, aware that she was babbling. “They took some pictures and a silver carving set.”

“Silver.” He made a face. “Did Cordelia at least warn you about that?”

She nodded. “Justin, please,” she began, then pressed her fingertips against her forehead as she fought for composure. “Please, don’t be so hard on her. Everybody seems to be forgetting that a werewolf attacked me and bit me. And that two girls are dead.”

“You’re wrong.” His face hardened, and he clenched his jaw. “No one’s forgotten. And when we find out who did it …” His voice was low and dangerous, and it unnerved her. She would never want Justin to be angry with her.

Justin pulled off the paved road and drove into the dark forest, where all this had begun. Katelyn glanced over at Justin as she recognized the route Cordelia had taken the night before, to the meadow. She rolled down the window. And as if on cue, drumming and howls echoed off the trees. Justin groaned aloud.

“That moron,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We need him gone.”

Then they reached the meadow, and Justin turned off the engine. Sunlight streamed into the clearing. The deer carcass was gone.

He got out; Katelyn did, too, and she joined him as he raised his chin, sniffing the air. She smelled dirt and tree bark, the coppery tang of blood, human sweat, soaps, and shampoos.

“Come on,” he told her. They moved together from the meadow to the trees, deep into the underbrush. Katelyn breathed in a thousand more odors. The drumming and the howls grew louder, more impassioned. They matched her thundering heartbeat.

Heat washed over her face as she sniffed the area, and the drums and the howls echoed off the darkness of the deep woods, giving voice to her fears. She strained her eyes, staring into the shadows, searching for her friend.

They pushed deeper into the woods. Fear fell over her like a shroud, and she looked around anxiously. A leaf jittered, then broke from a branch and sailed downward like a tiny bat. Below the drumming, she heard something moving along the forest floor. The trees swayed. Goose bumps rose along her arms. She was suddenly cold. She kept going, kept straining her eyes to make out something, anything, that would tell her where Cordelia had gone. Smells rose, still too many to be helpful.

From a distance away, Justin said, “Time’s up. Lee will be expecting me back.”

“No. We can’t give up yet,” she begged, raising her voice so he would be able to hear her. She couldn’t see him anywhere. “Please, Justin.”

“As long as you’re in the pack, you have to do what he wants.”

“No,” she whispered, heartbroken, turning in a tiny circle. “Cordelia, please, if you can hear me,
please
answer me.”

Then the forest seemed to whirl around her, spinning. Dizzy, she balled her hands against her chest and stopped moving. The forest blurred around her and the voice overwhelmed her.

Katelyn
.

I shall do thee mischief in the woods
.

“Justin?” she whispered, barely able to get the word out. She was rooted to the spot in fear. Something was in the woods with her. With them. It was creeping toward her. She felt it, knew it with every fiber of her being. And she knew it was dangerous.

“Justin!” Her voice tore out of her, raw and terrified.

You are marked
.

You are mine
.

“There’s something, there’s … Justin!” she cried. “Justin, help!”

It was coming from the left. She sensed it. She bolted to the right, pushing through a net of tree branches. Then she ran into something hard, and the impact made her stagger backward a few steps. Her ankle twisted and she lost her balance, swaying left, right, as if she were drunk. Her legs gave way and she fell onto something jagged and sharp. It cut into her right forearm, and she screamed.

“Kat!” Justin shouted.

There was crashing through the underbrush. It was Justin, bursting from among the branches. There was a scratch on his forehead and she smelled his blood.

She clutched her arm. “Something cut me,” she said.

“Get away!” he bellowed. “Silver!”

Then she looked down at what had cut her. It was a black thing that looked like a huge open mouth, with large pointed teeth. She’d never seen an animal trap in her life, but she had seen pictures. It was open and she had fallen onto some of the teeth.

“Kat, that thing’s made out of silver,” Justin said in a careful, flat voice. He looked sick. “I can smell it.”

She whimpered. “It—it broke the skin.”

She tried to get up, but her ankle seized. Justin darted forward and took her other arm, then wrapped his free hand around her waist. Her ankle gave way and he caught her, holding her against his chest tightly.

“No,” he murmured. “No.” Then he bent down and scooped her up in his arms. She put her arms around his neck, clinging to him, tears welling.

“Am I … am I going to die?” she asked.

He didn’t say anything. With her in his arms, he pushed through the forest like a madman, then exploded into the clearing. He kept going, grim-faced, single-minded, racing for his truck. Katelyn saw the deep cut in her arm. Her blood was soaking into his white T-shirt.

Then he tripped on something and fell. She tumbled out of his arms, landing hard. With a cry, he scrambled over to her, gathered her up. There were streaks of sweat and blood on his cheeks.

“Damn it,” he grunted. “Damn it to hell.”

“How long does it take?” she asked in a tiny voice.

He froze. Then he looked at her. “Not this long,” he said slowly. “You should be unconscious by now. At least.”

Struggling to catch her breath, she returned his gaze. “But … I’m not. The cuts hurt, but … I feel okay.” At his bewildered expression, she added, “Are you sure it was silver? Who would put out an animal trap made of silver?”

“Someone who wants to catch werewolves,” he answered, staring wide-eyed at her. “But … I saw you change, Kat. I
know
you’re a werewolf. So you can’t be immune to silver.”

He got up and opened the truck door, then helped her to her feet and into the cab.

“I think I might be,” she replied shakily. “I might be immune.”

He stared at her in amazement, then examined her arm. He grimaced and looked back up at her. “What
are
you?” he breathed.

They locked gazes, and she trembled from head to toe.

“Don’t tell anybody about this until I figure it out.” He wiped his face with his bloody T-shirt. “It changes everything.”

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, thank you, Debbie, for seeing the big picture and planting the seed, and for all the love and care you lavish not only on our books but on me and mine. You’re my pack mate, Deb, and always will be. To our wonderful editor, Krista Marino, we are so grateful for your excellent editorial vision and continued support of our work. As always, thank you to our fabulous agent, Howard Morhaim, and the unbeatable home team at Morhaim Literary—Kate McKean and Katie Menick—as well as to our international agents, Caspian Dennis and Danny and Heather Baror. Thank you to my sweet Chumash Woman, aka Belle, my coauthor, author tour escort extraordinaire, and all-around best daughter. My gratitude to Debbie’s husband, Dr. Scott Viguié, whose unfailing patience and good humor served us so well. And a shout-out to the California Wolf Center for your amazing work with gray wolves. Congratulations on the two new pups!

—Nancy

Thank you to my wonderful coauthor, Nancy, for her support and friendship and amazing research skills! Thank you to her beautiful daughter, Belle, for all her enthusiasm and support. Thank you to my amazing agent, Howard Morhaim, and the equally amazing Kate McKean and Katie Menick, who work tirelessly on our behalf. I’d like to thank those friends and family who always offer me their undying support. And I would also like to thank all the volunteers the world over who work with wolves, ensuring their health and safety in the wild and in captivity. Your efforts on behalf of those magnificent animals are greatly appreciated.

—Debbie

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHORS

NANCY HOLDER has published more than seventy-eight books and more than two hundred short stories. She has received four Bram Stoker Awards for her supernatural fiction and is the coauthor of the
New York Times
bestselling Wicked series. She lives in San Diego with her daughter. You can visit her at
nancyholder.com
.