Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,14
out her phone and checked. Five messages from Kimi made her smile in surprise. Then there was a single text from Trick.
Call your grandfather, he had reminded her. That was all; and she already had, keeping up the pretense that she and Cordelia were meeting to make up and work on their project.
Tnx, she texted back.
“Drop your stuff on the porch,” Justin said. “Then let’s go. Lee’s asked me to begin your training.”
Training? It sounded so weird, as if he were a gymnastics coach. But Katelyn knew she needed to understand more about her new life, so she did as he asked, slipping her phone into the pocket of her jacket. She didn’t linger on the porch.
They began to walk into the woods, and Katelyn felt that as soon as they were in the forest, Justin relaxed slightly. It was funny. Everyone else feared the woods but those who were werewolves seemed far more comfortable there than elsewhere.
“Those of us, the families who make up this pack, come from Norway originally. We Fenners are direct descendants of the Fenris Wolf.”
“Like in Norse mythology?”
“Exactly like. Fenris was a supernatural wolf-being who would bring about the death of Odin, king of the gods. He was bound with magical chains and imprisoned in a cave.”
“Why did you come here? Why not stay in Norway?”
He moved his shoulders. “We’re people, too, Kat. Lots of people left the Old World for different reasons.” He gave her a look. “I’ve always wondered if someone found out about us.”
She quickened with anxiety. There was always that threat about spilling the secret. Always the worry that she and her grandfather could be killed to guard it.
Justin raised his chin. She could tell he was sniffing the air, and she tried to breathe in whatever he had detected. She smelled leather and spice, dirt, and the pungent scent of pine.
Then he blinked and looked at her, as if he’d realized he’d lost his train of thought.
“Some folks also said that the cave where Fenris had been bound might be around here.”
Katelyn’s scalp prickled and she thought of the silver mine that she and Cordelia had been looking for. What better way to trap a werewolf than surrounding him by silver?
“What?” Justin asked suddenly. “You’re shaking your head.”
She hesitated. She never knew what she should say, and what she should keep to herself.
“Tell me,” he said, stopping her with a hand on her wrist.
“I just thought about the silver mine Cordelia and I were trying to find for our history project, that’s all.”
She expected him to make fun of her, but he just looked thoughtful. “I suppose anything’s possible,” he said after a moment.
“So is Fenris good or bad?” Could he be the Hellhound?
“Legend says that Fenris was just. He dealt swift punishment to those who sinned, and rewarded his good children with plenty of hunting and land. But Odin ruled based on whim. And he was moody.”
“Like your uncle,” she said before thinking.
Justin’s eyes widened. He pursed his lips for a couple of moments, and then he just looked sad. “I guess that’s what makes it so hard to take. Uncle Lee was always harsh, but fair. The rules were simple, clear. Now . . . now no one is sure where they stand.”
When she realized he was including himself in that statement, it sent another rush of fear through her. And she could guess how hard it was for him to live in a world of shifting rules. Of course, everything that Lee did, that all of them did, made no sense to her because she didn’t even know what the rules were supposed to be. But he looked so sad that it made her heart ache for him. His life hadn’t been an easy one, she knew. Just like her, he had lost both his parents, and nothing since then had been easy. She decided to shift the topic away from Lee for a minute.
“So, if Fenners are direct descendants of the Fenris wolf, shouldn’t all werewolves look up to you?”
Justin laughed, a bitter, hard sound. “Wouldn’t that make life nice and easy? No. Look at all the religions in the human world. All the special, chosen people.”
“So . . . other werewolves were created in other ways?” She thought of her attack, the bite. How did all this get started?
“The Gaudins claim to be descended from the Beast of Gévaudan — a werewolf that terrorized the area of Gévaudan in France in the Middle Ages. It