Blood for Wolves - By Nicole Taft Page 0,17

from. Killed by farmers and hunters and ranchers. People who thought wolves were dangerous and would kill all their livestock and attack people. But a few people realized the opposite was actually true and campaigned to have wolves protected and given the chance to come back. Our,” I paused, unsure if he would know the word government, “rulers made it illegal to kill wolves for a very long time. It worked. Now I just look after them and keep people aware of their importance.”

I shrugged again, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. At least to me. I loved wolves. I thought they were intelligent, powerful, beautiful creatures. Another reason it was so disconcerting to be in a world where wolves were so…different.

I realized Wolf was staring at me, an avid expression on his face.

“You are a champion for wolves.”

I laughed. “Yeah, well, I don’t know if I would say that. It certainly doesn’t pay very much.” Not like I cared what it paid.

“You would be revered among wolves here. Hated by humans, yes,” he added as an afterthought, “but still revered.”

I cleared my throat. I wasn’t used to this sort of praise. I changed the subject. “So how did you become a half-wolf?”

He looked at me as if to say, “Isn’t it obvious?” That very same look also said in a very devilish manner, “Would you like to find out?”

“Hah. Okay.” I tightened the straps on my pack. “But one of your parents. I mean, they couldn’t have been a full wolf, right? Or can full wolves take, um, human form?” I stumbled over the question, unable to believe that I’d even asked it.

“Oh yes. If he or she chooses, a full wolf can become human. Or at least, they look human. But both my parents were half-wolves.”

I did the science in my head. Made sense. “Could you have been born full human?”

“Oh that’s rare, very rare indeed. Just as rare would be full wolf.”

“I see.” At least basic biology still worked here.

We’d only gone a few more steps when Wolf froze. He held out a hand.

“Shh.” He cocked his head from one side to another, sniffing. “We’re close.”

“Close to what? The slave traders?”

“Yes. They’re in a town. Probably pretending to be something other than slavers, though I doubt anyone would care. Well, maybe someone might, but I doubt it.”

We hurried through the trees, hoping to get to the town in time to buy Marianne back. I wondered where her village was and if she’d be able to take us back to it. Maybe Wolf could pick up the scent, using Marianne as a start and then following the smell back to where she lived. I hoped she didn’t freak out when she saw Wolf. The thought gave me pause.

“Wolf, wait!”

He skidded to a stop. “What?”

“Am I okay? Will anyone think I’m strange dressed like this?” I gestured to my green t-shirt and khaki shorts.

“No. They’ll think you’re visiting from a neighboring kingdom. Everyone dresses different no matter where you go.”

I eyed him. “And where do you think I’m from?”

A sly grin appeared on his face. “Oh, I know you’re not from anywhere I know of. You smell too different. I like it.”

I shivered. He had that hungry look on his face again, and it wasn’t for food. I switched subjects. “Is it safe for you to go into a town? You know, with people?”

He scratched at his neck, confused. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re, well…” I shrugged as if to say, “A wolf that everyone hates, remember?”

“Oh. Yes, well.” He took a deep breath and smoothed back his hair, standing up straighter. “I haven’t been to one in a while, but if I conduct myself with serenity and decorum, there won’t be any need to worry, will there?”

“And can you?”

“Of course I can,” he said, insulted.

“People can’t tell you’re a wolf?”

“Not unless I show them.”

“Show them?”

“Like the giants wanted you to prove you were a she-wolf.”

I wasn’t sure what all that meant. Wolf sensed my confusion and came up close to me, staring straight into my eyes. Suddenly his flashed from hazel to a glowing gold-red.

“Oh my God!” I yelped, putting my hands to my mouth. I hadn’t been seeing things. His eyes really did change color. The red disturbed me the most though. Wolves did not have red eyes. Ever. There was something very, very wrong about that.

“You all right, my sweet Caroline?” he asked innocently. He trailed a few fingers over my jaw

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