Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles) - By Nancy Holder Page 0,85
got to sleep over at a friend’s house. I was just remembering this morning, though, I didn’t get to go with them the last time they went. Daddy told me he was hiking in the woods and he found a — an injured wolf. And it — it bit him. He showed me the stitches.”
Lies. No one had ever said anything to her about a wolf. But now her words hung in the air, and she clutched the cup hard as she waited to see what effect they had.
At the stove her grandfather’s back stiffened.
Oh, God, she thought, lowering the cup to the table. Feeling her chest hitch, her muscles tighten. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her mouth tasted like acid.
“Did he ever tell you about that?” she pushed.
“No, he didn’t.” He grabbed a plate and scooped the egg on it. Then he took it to the table and set it down in front of her. But he didn’t look at her.
“Maybe Mom told you? I mean, it was a pretty big deal.”
“No,” he insisted.
More lies. This time from him. And she could tell that he hadn’t simply forgotten, because he still wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Your pa should have known better than to approach a wild animal like that. I thought I taught him better.” He was staring off into space. “Damn fool,” he whispered.
There was so much anger and bitterness in his voice that it felt like a slap against her cheek. But it wasn’t directed at her, and she knew it.
Ask him. Tell him. Her blood roared in her ears. She braced herself.
Stop.
Every survival instinct she had clamped down on her, ordering her to be silent. If she did this wrong, if she screwed up—
“Gotta run,” she said, sounding agitated even to herself.
He didn’t seem to notice. He was lost in his own thoughts.
“Have a nice time,” he said from the sink.
She headed for the front door and ran to her car as horrible suspicions rushed in to fill the numb void in her mind, in her heart. The aching chasm. She looked at herself in the rearview mirror.
She wanted to go away. She had a car; she could take the road to Bentonville. And do what? She didn’t have enough money for a plane ticket. Maybe she could call Kimi and ask her mom to buy her one. Or Trick—
“You stupid, stupid . . .” She was yelling at her reflection, but in her mind’s eye, she saw her father. Her father, and a wolf.
And her mother’s handwriting.
Justin insisted on leading her into the Fenners’ forest, then blindfolding her so that she would have to depend on her hearing. She protested, and he just laughed it off. He was in a better mood than he had been the night before. Somehow it made it that much harder to deal with her own drama, the fears that had latched hold of her and wouldn’t let go.
Dad, what happened to you? she kept thinking over and over again.
“Katelyn, do what I say,” Justin prodded, as they tracked into a stand of maples that had lost all their leaves. “Put this on.”
He held out a black scarf. She made no move to take it. He narrowed his eyes at her, tapping his cowboy boot against a fallen tree trunk.
“I’ll be nearby,” he promised. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Defeated, she positioned the scarf over her eyes and tied it at the back. Then she heard twigs crackling as he walked away.
“Listen to the forest,” he said. “Tell me what it tells you.”
She stood quietly, her heart pounding, raising her chin as smells swirled around her: pine needles, underbrush, wet earth, and the delicious collection of odors that made up Justin’s nearly irresistible scent. She even smelled her own smell; she had been using a bar of lavender soap she’d bought in a gift shop in Little Rock.
And leather and soap: Trick. Was his scent on her?
Then she heard a voice, echoing and dreamy, as if it were coming from inside her head:
Katelyn.
You are mine.
Marked.
Click.
Click.
Click.
And someone breathing near her.
“Justin?” she called, reaching her hands to pull down the blindfold.
“Cordelia?” Mr. Fenner said.
As Katelyn peered over the scarf, she saw Mr. Fenner not five feet away. He was holding a rifle in his arms. She took a step backwards.
“Honey,” he said, walking toward her, and she stood statue-still, terrified. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“Um,” she said, scanning their surroundings. “Justin?” she called softly. “Help?”