Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,7
shrill, and she knew she had to calm down. “Yeah, it’s . . . bad,” she amended.
“She seems like a handful. Hard to be friends with.”
“Her whole family’s kind of weird.” She winced. She probably shouldn’t have said that. And she felt a prick of disloyalty for it. She poured a cup of coffee for each of them, adding the cream and sugar.
He took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “I figured we’d go into town in a bit. We’ll check to see if your new tire is in, and you can go to that store you like and get something for the Cirque show.”
Relief flooded her. She would much rather be in town with him than waiting here at the cabin wondering who was spying on her, and whether whoever had shot at her was going to try again.
~
After breakfast Katelyn hurried upstairs to shower and get dressed. When she came back down she was at least feeling a little better, a little more awake.
“I’m ready,” she said as she hit the bottom of the stairs.
He was holding the sweatshirt she’d been wearing the night before. She felt shaky. How could she have been so stupid to leave it out?
“Oh, sorry for being a slob,” she said, practically grabbing it out of his hand. She took it, ran back upstairs and tossed it on her bed. She had to get a grip. If she acted like nothing was wrong, he would assume that nothing was wrong.
Heading back downstairs, she forced a smile onto her face. “Let’s go,” she said.
They drove toward town in silence. Fortunately, she was getting used to silence around her grandfather. Today, especially, it was a blessing; she had too much going on in her head to chat.
They went through the dark tree tunnel; then, on the crest of a hill, she saw that the town of Wolf Springs had replaced the Halloween decorations with baskets of holly and ivy hanging from the lampposts. Many of the doors of the Victorian buildings sported cheery winter wreaths. Thanksgiving was almost here; and after that came the Christmas vacation. A sign had gone up in a vacant lot announcing that Christmas trees would go on sale that weekend. To Katelyn there was an air of rebelliousness to all the festive cheeriness, as if Wolf Springs was fighting back against whomever — or whatever — had mauled those two girls to death.
“If we bought a Christmas tree in L.A. this weekend, it would be a brittle mess by December,” she said.
Her grandfather surprised her with a laugh. “I know. Used to be day after Thanksgiving that we got a tree. But once the snow hits everyone becomes more isolated, so we get started a lot earlier around here. Better to have some festivity while everyone can enjoy it.”
Isolated. A few days before, she wouldn’t have believed it would be possible to be more isolated than she was. But with the loss of Cordelia, and the fact that she had to protect her grandfather and Trick from her secret, she felt more isolated than ever. If they were snowed in on a full moon night . . . she looked out the window and clenched the arm rest.
“What happens when the snow hits? I mean, with school and everything?” she asked.
He shrugged. “On the bad days? No school. Rest of the time, snow plows keep the roads cleared. Of course, it’s easier for the folks who live in town. Everybody just takes it one day at a time.”
One day at a time. She couldn’t think like that. She had to make plans, contingencies. She would have to talk to Justin about it. Surely he and the others knew what to do.
But why would they? In their world, the pack was made up of families. They didn’t have werewolves living with non-werewolves. It was one more thing that made her different, one more way in which she was a liability.
One more reason for them to kill her.
The storefront blurred past, and then they pulled up outside Babette’s. The store’s windows still held memorial signs for Haley and Becky — the two girls who had died. Would there soon be a missing person poster going up with Cordelia’s face on it?
“I’ve got some errands to do, and I figure you don’t need me hanging around pressuring you to buy something with a longer skirt or a higher neckline,” he said with a half-grin. “So, why don’t we divide and conquer?”