Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,52
a strange sensation in her mouth, as if she was chewing aluminum foil. Unwrapping it, she saw it was a knife — by the looks of it, the silver knife she’d left behind at the Inner Wolf Center.
“I went back last night, after we got home,” he said. “It was bugging me. Wasn’t it bugging you?”
“Yes. It was bugging me.” She touched the handle. The metal gave off a tangy, burning odor. She remembered how positive Justin had been that the trap she’d fallen into was silver. Now she knew why. Her senses must have been duller back then. “Maybe if we told my grandfather we found it off the property.” She hesitated. “But I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“Tell you what. If the police don’t get anywhere, I’ll fess up. How about a week?”
“Oh.” Saying anything felt intense and confining. But a week would give her time to think it through. “Okay, yes.”
“Good.” He hefted his backpack over one shoulder. “Let’s go to Cowffeine to talk about the equipment. They have free wifi. We can drive over together and I won’t keep you long.”
“And you won’t beat anybody up.”
“No, ma’am.” He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat.
They drove down Main Street in his Mustang, Katelyn wistfully admiring the Christmas decorations hanging from the lampposts — candy canes and jingle bells — and the holly wreaths on the doors of the Victorian buildings. Wind buffeted the finery. Nearly all the leaves on the trees were gone, and it began to rain again.
“Looks like an early snow this year,” Trick said as he peered through the windshield. “Your pappy’s laid in lots of supplies, yes?”
“Yes,” she said faintly. A little less than three weeks until the next full moon. Surely it wouldn’t snow before then. She’d have to figure out a way to justify staying out all night.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “Getting snowed in is kind of fun.”
“If you don’t live in the middle of the forest.”
“You and the doc can come stay with us if you want. We’ve got lots of room.”
“Oh.” She turned to look at him. “Thank you.”
“No big,” he replied, but he looked happy.
They drove past Babette’s. Mr. Henderson’s missing person’s notice was taped beside the one commemorating the two girls who had died, Haley and Becky. Katelyn thought about what Paulette had said, about loved ones going crazy with worry.
Thinking of that, she checked her cell phone as she climbed out of the Mustang. There was nothing from Cordelia or Dom. But there was one from Justin.
Hope you feel better.
“Whoa,” she said aloud. That was unexpected, the sequel. Trick raised a questioning brow. “Sorry. It’s nothing.”
“How’s Kimi?” he asked, as if he assumed that was who she was talking to.
“Good. Great,” she told him, and she felt a tightness in her chest as she imagined the beach and L.A. with Trick in it. Just a few days ago, she’d actually begun to dream that Wolf Springs would become a distant memory.
“We’ll get you a bunch of cool equipment,” he said as they went into the coffee house. There was a large display of Discover Your Inner Wolf merchandise, and beyond that a place to order coffees and pastries, and some wooden tables. “You probably know the best websites to order from. We — Shit,” he murmured under his breath.
Katelyn looked in his direction. Jack Bronson was coming out of the restroom.
She stopped dead and Trick murmured, “It’s okay.”
“How have you been?” Bronson asked Katelyn as he walked up to her. His voice was way too friendly. “Katelyn McBride, isn’t it?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes. Fine. Thanks.”
“No more trouble?” he persisted, and she felt Trick jerk.
Smooth, she thought.
“It’s all good,” she said tightly.
“Good, good.” He patted the shelf holding the display of his books, some T-shirts, and coffee cups. “Would you like a copy of my book?”
“We have one, thanks.”
“Your grandfather and you.” He said it almost as if he were making a joke. “Well, good. I hope you like it.” He smiled at her a beat too long, and then at Trick very cursorily, and walked out the front door.
“Yikes,” Trick said. “Trouble?”
“Two of his guys tried to hit on Cordelia and me,” she said. “He stopped them.”
“Whoa.” Trick looked out the door, then at the books. “And yet you never mentioned it.”
“Was I supposed to?” she asked, flaring. Then she softened. “I’m sorry. I’m short-tempered. I — I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”