Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,60
pushed at her as she hurried back inside the cabin, then closed and locked the door. She stood for a moment, her back pressed to it, listening for a sound, any sound, that would let her know if Mordecai was awake.
The house was silent. Her head spun, and her stomach churned as if she were going to throw up. Fear and revulsion collided, and also the tiniest flicker of hope. If her grandfather knew about werewolves, then maybe she could actually tell him, confide in him.
With the very next heartbeat, she knew that wish was foolish and suicidal. Mr. Fenner had been clear that if she told her grandfather anything, he would kill them both.
Not if Grandpa kills him first.
She trembled as the thought took hold of her. Her grandfather was a hunter and he had a whole box of the right kind of ammunition. He could shoot Mr. Fenner and then . . .
What? she wondered. The rest of the pack would rip them to shreds. Or at least her, since her grandfather might already be in jail for murder.
She stared at the wall of trophy animal heads. What happened to a werewolf when they died? Did they look like a wolf, or a human? For one crazy second she imagined Mr. Fenner’s human head mounted on her grandfather’s wall and she was sickened by the thrill that rushed through her.
I hate him, she realized. I hate him for sending Cordelia away, for threatening me and my grandfather and Trick. A low rumble started in her chest and she shook her head hard, trying to calm herself down.
She moved swiftly into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She was completely losing it, torn between rising fright and a wild, hysterical giddiness. The rumble was getting louder as she brought the glass to her lips.
She downed the glass of water and then stood for a moment, spooked by her own reflection in the window. White face, black holes for eyes. The growling seemed to have died down, but the hatred for Mr. Fenner still burned bright.
And she wanted so badly to tell her grandfather everything. He was strong; maybe he could protect them both.
Head thrown back, she gulped down another glass of water.
What if he shot Justin?
Her heart stopped for a moment.
I’m crazy. If he knows about werewolves, he has those silver bullets for one reason and one reason only. To kill us. How do I know he wouldn’t kill me, too?
She thought of the silver trap in the forest that she had fallen into. Had her grandfather put it there?
The room tilted crazily and lightning billowed against the gingham curtains. She put her glass in the sink and made her way upstairs. Shivering, she changed into dry pajamas and lay down on her bed, misery coursing through her as she stared up at the skylight.
It was just too dangerous.
She couldn’t tell him.
Not ever.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Silver girl, silver girl, let me come in.
Peering down through the skylight.
Creeping down the hall.
Opening the door.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“What?” Katelyn said blearily as she sat up. She could see her breath, and when she looked up she saw that the skylight was completely covered with snow.
She had taken off her soaking wet pajamas and laid them on towels on the floor; they were still ice-cold and still wet. If she had hung them in the bathroom, her grandfather would have known that she’d gone outside.
She dressed in jeans and a sweater, realizing she felt the cold, and raced downstairs. Mordecai was putting a log on the fire, which crackled and roared. She was surprised that she felt the cold so intensely and it drove her over to stand in front of it next to him. The radiating warmth began to thaw her slightly.
“Good morning,” her grandfather said.
She nodded. “Why is it so cold?” She walked over to the window and stared outside.
Snow, everywhere. The dreaded winter had finally come.
She leaned her head against the windowpane and strangled back a sob. What happens when the full moon comes in a couple of weeks? She took a moment to steady herself. Her grandfather came to stand beside her and she stole a glance at him. What do you know? What’s going on? she wanted to scream at him. But she stayed quiet.
“Are we snowed in?” she asked.
“Naw,” he said with a chuckle. “Higher up the mountain got a lot of snow, but this isn’t bad. Just means it’s time to put chains on your car. You ever done