Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,48

that Trick was taking off his coat and wrapping it around her. Then he was wiping her face with a piece of cloth — a handkerchief — and pressing her body against his. Her face fit into the space between his clavicles and his chin, and she shuddered against him as he held her in his arms.

“It’s my fault that she died,” she told Trick in a rush, and she was surprised she said it. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself. “My mom. I was on painkillers when the earthquake happened, and I was so doped up that she couldn’t get out in time when the . . . fire started.” She felt tears on her cheeks.

“And now I’m here,” she said, anguished, “and there’s so much. Oh, Trick—”

“I’m here, darlin’.” Trick brushed his lips against the crown of her hair. His heart was thundering and she felt icy, unwell. But then she had the sharpest sensation of being watched. Almost as if someone were poking at the back of her neck with one long, cold finger. She stiffened and darted her gaze left and right.

Oh, my God, she thought, freaking out as her knees buckled. Trick was already holding her so tightly that he probably didn’t even notice. She had to get it together. If Lee Fenner had sent a spy to watch her . . .

“I’m okay now,” she said. “I’m fine.”

“Katie,” her grandfather said. She didn’t know when he’d come up to them. Maybe he’d been the one watching. She hoped so.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just . . . it was . . . I — I was dreaming of the Mexican cloud swing when the earthquake happened. It just hit me all over again. But I’m . . .” she took a deep breath. “. . . monumentally embarrassed.” She raised her voice and forced out what she hoped was a convincing laugh.

Just then, people poured out of the doors and walked toward them, talking, laughing. The performance had ended.

“Good timing,” she said, trying to make a joke. She smiled at Trick.

But he didn’t smile back.

Katelyn didn’t know who made the decision, but when they returned to their hotel suite, she had the rollout couch and the two guys shared the bedroom. She was relieved; it had been awkward to sleep in the same room with her grandfather and she didn’t want to repeat the experience. The rollout had been made up with fresh sheets, and as she crawled beneath the covers, she realized she could still smell Trick all around her. One of the advantages of having heightened senses, she thought with a fleeting smile. She pulled up the sheets and curled inside them like an embrace.

She knew it made sense that she’d had a meltdown. She was under terrible strain and if anything besides an earthquake could set off her emotions, the Cirque show was it. But if the Fenners had sent someone to spy on her, she hoped they counted it as “normal” that a teenage girl whose mother had died less than three months ago might lose it. In fact, she would seem less normal if she hadn’t. But would Lee Fenner see it that way?

Should she text Justin again? Be an obedient young werewolf? Avoiding trouble certainly made sense. She didn’t want either her grandfather or Trick to suffer just because she didn’t like to bow down to rules she couldn’t understand. Biting her lip in annoyance, she sent a brief message to let him know they were back at the hotel for the night, then she texted Cordelia again. There was no response.

The hotel offered an elaborate brunch in the morning, and everyone ate like pigs. Then they piled into the car. Trick and her grandfather were cautious around her, chatting about inconsequential things. In a weird way, Katelyn was glad Mordecai had seen just how torn up she really was inside. She didn’t think he had understood what he had asked of her, forcing her to move to Wolf Springs. Now he had seen her pain firsthand.

When they arrived back at the cabin, she wondered if she might also be PMSing werewolf style as she felt so unbelievably restless. Wasn’t menstruation linked to the phases of the moon? So would werewolf girls notice it more? After Trick left and her grandfather went to bed, she had to go outside and stand in the fresh air. The Inner Wolf guys were at it, beating their drums, their howls echoing