Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,15

killed more than two hundred people and that’s a source of pride with the Gaudins. They are savages with no honor, no morality.”

And yet Katelyn knew that her friend Cordelia had had feelings for Dominic Gaudin — the alpha of the Gaudins — who had stood up to Lee Fenner for her on Halloween night. What she had seen of Dom didn’t make him seem any more savage than the werewolves of the Fenner pack.

“They’ve been spoiling for war for a long time,” Justin went on, and there was a hint of growl in his tone. “It makes no sense. North America is huge, so there’s no need to fight over territory, but they do. They sneak on our land, poach our prey, spy on us.”

The anger was back, simmering just below the surface. He was taut, as if ready to spring. “So it’s you versus them,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, there are other packs,” he said. “Most of them are pretty small. But there’s one big one.” She waited. Emotions flashed across his face, but she couldn’t read them. “The Latgale family. They call themselves the Hounds of God.”

“That’s so weird.”

“They don’t think so,” he said. “The pack came from Livonia. They said they were warriors who went down into hell to do battle with witches and demons. They believed that when they died, their souls were welcomed into heaven as reward for their service.”

“Do they still believe that?” Katelyn asked, thinking of the Hellhound again.

Justin shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never talked to one of them. Only Uncle Lee has, and he said their leader was crazy.” He made a face. “And we’re back to moody alphas.” He stopped abruptly. “Okay, we’re here.”

Katelyn looked around. “Here” looked like every other part of the forest to her. “Where?” she asked.

He grinned at her. “That’s what I want you to tell me.”

“O-kay,” she said, drawing the word out. “Just give me a second.” She started to pull out her phone, but he stopped her with a quick shake of his head.

“No GPS, no phones. I want you to tell me where we are.”

She looked straight at him. “The middle of the woods.”

“Now is not the time to be sarcastic, Kat.”

She sighed and bunched up her shoulders as she tried to figure out how long they’d been walking. Finally she pointed back the way they’d come. “We’re about a mile away from the house.”

“Good. Remember that.”

She cocked her head.

“It’s going to be up to you to find the way back later.” Before she could ask what he meant, he slapped her lightly on the back. “Tag, you’re it.”

Then he set out running. Katelyn stared after him in surprise for a second before she began chasing after him, bobbing and weaving around the trees. “You’re going too fast!” she shouted.

He turned his head over his shoulder and shouted back, “You’re going too slow.” And then he seemed to leap forward, his legs moving so quickly she couldn’t see them.

Startled and afraid of losing sight of him, she reached deep down inside herself. And she found speed that she would never have dreamed of.

Suddenly she was the one who raced so fast she was practically flying. She vaulted a fallen log with ease, darted between the trees, and then she passed Justin. She reached out and slapped his shoulder, then jumped out of the way of his reaching arms.

She laughed and ran faster, the trees beginning to blur by, and she felt dizzy and breathless and wildly happy all at the same time. Wind stung her face. She felt Justin’s hand brush her shoulder and she twisted in mid-stride, ready to tag him back.

But he wasn’t there.

She slowed, stumbled over her own feet, then stopped, turning in every direction, but she couldn’t see him.

“Justin!”

Only silence greeted her.

It was the first time she had been alone in the woods since her attack. And all the reasons she shouldn’t be out there alone sprang instantly to mind. Nervously, she rubbed the places on her arm where the trap had cut her. She’d heard something whispering to her again that morning. Calling her name. Promising. Threatening. Stalking. Even now, just thinking about it, she began to tremble. And it wasn’t just the Hellhound she had to worry about now. Someone had shot at her.

She began to jog back the way she’d come, but now her legs felt leaden, heavy. Her lungs filled with the smell of pine and mud and traces of the perfume she’d