Fangs

by Anna Katmore

  With slow, careful steps, Abby and I descend the stairs. I put her on the wingback chair because I need my hands free to untie the knot in Esther’s leash. The goat gets up from the stone floor and bleats excitedly when I open the door. In a whoosh, she’s past me and dashes out through the garden gate. Boy, that was unexpected. Since she seems to know her way and heads straight down the road, we’ll probably meet her at Abby’s house in a few minutes.

  I turn around and…smile. Abby has fallen asleep again. She’s curled up on the chair like Saby always does in my pocket or hood. Slowly walking across the hall, I behold her, thinking how nice it would be to keep her with me all day. But that’s not going to happen.

  I push my hands under her back and legs and then lift the featherweight from the chair. Groaning softly, she wraps her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder again. I chuckle. Holding her closer, I carry her home.

  There’s still some time until sunup when we arrive at her grandmother’s house. Esther is waiting in front of the shed, her unwavering gaze on the closed door. “Hang on a sec,” I whisper to her.

  It’s so stupid that I can’t enter the house. If I could, I would have taken Abby straight up to her room and put her to bed. She still needs a lot of rest to recover from the blood donation. For now, the wooden bench in the garden will have to do.

  Gently, I put her down and then stack two of the red-and-white-checkered cushions beneath her head. Immediately, she curls into a tight ball. After I let the goat into the shed, I come back to kneel on the grass beside Abby, take her hand again, and study her face. It seems as if she doesn’t even realize any of what happened after she fell asleep with my fangs in her neck. Well, she will figure it out when she wakes up. Sadly, I can’t stay here with her until then because it’s less than an hour until sunrise.

  Skimming her hair out of her face, I lean down and softly speak into her ear. “Abby?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re home, but I have to go back now.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  It’s cute how she struggles to give me an answer when she probably doesn’t even understand what I said. Still, I add, “Eat some apple strudel when you wake up.” She’ll need to raise her blood sugar. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “’Kay…” Man, she sounds so tired.

  With a sigh, I take her hand and lift it to my mouth. I plant a gentle kiss on her palm and then close her fingers around it. “Sleep tight, little warrior.”

  Chapter 20

  Breakfast at Granny’s house

  Abigail

  “Abby…?” A distant voice penetrates my dark world. I don’t yet want to leave the meadow under the clear, black night sky. It’s nice here. I have company. Deep blue eyes hold me captive in the moonlight.

  Then something touches my throat, but it’s not teeth. Shame. Right…? Still, the fingers are gentle and warm, and they stroke my skin. Next, the same warm fingers take my hands and brush over the insides of my wrists. Are they looking for something? Maybe I should help them find it.

  With a deep, rolling sigh, I open my eyes and blink at the blurred face in front of mine. The sky is a grayish blue above us, dawn only minutes away. But this is not the beautiful meadow I’ve spent the last few hours in, and the thing I’m lying on is hard. Where the hell am I?

  When my mind slowly comes out of hibernation, and I recognize the apple tree in Nana’s garden, I jerk up.

  “Easy there.” Firm hands grip my shoulders and push me back down onto…the bench in front of our house? Yeah, must be. Dizziness kicks in. Okay, lying down is good. I drape my arm over my eyes and groan.

  “Do you know where you are?” the faintly familiar voice demands.

  “Nana’s garden.”

  “Good. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Images of me cuddled up in Quentin’s arms rush through me. Absently, my fingers slip to my neck. He bit me. And it was beautiful…

  But heck if I’ll tell you!

  Once the voice finally clicks, my eyes snap open to the guy hunkered down in front of me. “Trayan!” I fight to sit up again, slowly this time, and lean against the backrest with my legs pulled up. “What are you doing here?”

  He puts both hands on the bench to the left and right of my feet as if prepared for me to tip over again. “I came past your house and saw you. You got me worried, just lying here.”

  The sun is peeking over the horizon, tinting the world a golden pink. I fix him with a frown. “It’s quite early to be out.”

  Not a single muscle moves in his face, and his answer comes with no delay. “I usually go for a jog at sunrise.”

  Seriously? My gaze travels up and down his hunched body. “You always go jogging in jeans and a leather jacket?” An unpleasant feeling slithers over my skin.

  Trayan locks gazes with me, but his lips are sealed. What’s there to reply to this anyway? We both know he’s lying. Goosebumps spread under my sweatshirt. I wrap my clammy fingers around my ankles to stop them from shaking. Then I slowly tilt my head to stare at him from the corner of my eye. “Why are you really here?” Damn, I sound like a squirrel.

  He squats there, just one foot away from me, immovable for a long, shuddering moment. Then he licks his lips and glances over his shoulder and down the road. I know where his thoughts are. Castle Dracula. And he doesn’t look up the hill in wonder, his expression is knowing. I shudder.

  After his gaze returns to me, he draws in a deep breath. “This guy put you down here a few minutes ago. You were unconscious, and I just wanted to check if he—”

  Changed me into a vampire? My nostrils begin to flare as nervousness makes me pant.

  Trayan’s hands slide over mine on my ankles in what feels like an attempt to calm me. “If you’re all right,” he corrects his stammer with a stern voice that makes me really uncomfortable.

  “I’m…fine…” The slow words crawl over my tongue. Two deep breaths, and I pull my hands away from under his to clasp them behind my bent legs.

  “Why did you meet this guy at night in the castle?” Trayan’s chestnut eyes gleam with darkness. He nails me with an intense look that feels as if it penetrates my soul. “What did he do to you that you couldn’t walk home by yourself?”

  Oh my God, what’s he trying here? Is that mind control? IS THAT MIND CONTROL?! I want to freak out, but don’t dare even blink. Who in the world stares right through people’s eyes like he does? Only a vampire…or a wolf.

  Obviously, he can’t be a bloodsucker, what with walking around in daylight and all. But supposedly there’s a crazy werewolf in town. A wolf who kills cattle at night and comes dangerously close to the residential area. Why the hell is Trayan out so early?

  Unless he didn’t go to sleep last night…

  A scream fills my head.

  “Abby…” Trayan begins, and that’s when I finally tick out.

  “I don’t know what happened last night, or why I’m lying here, okay? Maybe I sleepwalked,” I squeak and jump up from the bench, nearly knocking him over. Except, he’s damn fast to leap away. Stumbling backward to the door, I don’t let him out of my sight, especially when he prowls closer, hands outstretched as if to grab me.

  “Abigail, wait.”

  “I can’t! It’s late.” No, early. The sun is warming the garden with its golden light. I don’t give a shit. “You need to go jogging, and I should get inside. My gran will wonder where I am and why I’m talking to”—a wolf—“you out here.”

  Behind me, I fumble with the doorknob and then let myself in, slamming the portal shut in Trayan’s face. A shaky breath whizzes from my lungs as I turn around and drop my back against the wood. And then I shriek because Nana is suddenly standing before me.

  “GAH!” My hand flies to my heart.

  The cottony, white, flower-dotted nightgown looks foreign on her when I only ever see her in her usual dark dresses and apron. She cocks her head, her gray hair cascading down her shoulders for once. “Where have you be
en, my dear?”

  “I—” Jesus Christ! I swallow. “I went to the bakery for fresh buns.”

  Pursing her lips, she looks down at my empty hands. “Where are they?”

  Still in the oven, I guess. Oh, God, help me out of this. I can’t tell Nana the truth—that a vampire drank my blood, and a werewolf is investigating the case. Nobody knows about the night creatures, right? That’s what Quentin said. They need to live in secret. People die when they find out!

  “The bakery was closed,” I say flatly.

  “No wonder. It’s early.”

  The clock on the wall ticks loudly as we stare at each other in silence. I feel as if caught in a mousetrap. Then a sharp knock behind me makes me nearly jump right out of my skin. The shriek that leaves me is involuntary. With a stuttering heart, I glare at the door, frozen to the spot.

  “Don’t you want to open it?” Nana asks, but she sounds as if she’s saying, “Is everything all right with your mind?”

  “Nooo…” I aspirate through a full-circle mouth.

  Nana snickers. “Then how will you know who’s out there?”

  I know who’s out there, that’s the problem. “It’s not even six.” My voice is squeaky. “What normal person knocks on somebody’s door at this time of day?”

  Ignoring my precarious dilemma, she pinches my cheek and then grabs her pink terrycloth dressing gown from the coat rack. Since when is the damn thing hanging here?

  She slips it on and moves me aside to pull the door open—and not just a crack but really wide. NANA! Have you lost your sanity? Good grief! She’ll get us all killed.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Potts.”

  An evil shower zips down my spine at the voice, even before I turn to face Trayan again.

  “Well, hello. You must be the young man staying at the Wynter house, are you not?” Nana holds out her hand to him. How the hell does she know who he is? On the other hand, she probably knows everyone else in this town, and it’s just a lucky guess. He speaks English, after all.

  “Yes. Trayan MacCorbin, ma’am.” His nonrevealing gaze moves to me, though he speaks with her. “I’m afraid I scared your granddaughter a little when we met outside. I wanted to make sure everything was all right with her.”

  “You see, my dear?” Nana takes my hand and pats it as if I broke out of the nut hut this morning. “This young gentleman is just worried about you.”

  Gentleman, my ass! He’s a werewolf! And he wants to freaking eat us!

  Nana turns back to Trayan, offering him one of her warmest smiles. “Emily Wynter speaks highly of you. I was hoping to meet you eventually.” Nana steps aside, clearing the threshold. “We’re going to eat breakfast in a moment. Abby forgot the buns, but I think there’s enough bread in the kitchen. Would you like to join us?”

  “No!” The word explodes out of me as I stumble between them and clasp the door. “Don’t invite him in!”

  Both of them quirk their brows at me. “Why in Heaven’s name should I not?” Nana demands.

  Very clever, Abby. Why don’t you just blurt in the werewolf’s face that you know all about his secret? I hold my breath and…shrug.

  She casts me another shrewd look that appeals to my intelligence. Then she twirls around in her slippers and heads to the kitchen. “Come, you two. I’ll make you cocoa.”

  Swallowing so loudly that the goats in the barn can probably hear it, I turn back to Trayan. He tilts his head quietly and lifts one questioning eyebrow. Then he walks through the door and leaves me gaping as he follows my grandma down the hall.

  Holy hounds of Hell, what kind of bonkers summer vacation is this? I rub my hands over my face and weigh whether it would be smarter to run off and find Quentin or stay in this house with another dangerous night creature. But I can’t leave my gran alone with this monster. She has no idea. One false move, and Trayan might pull off a freaky version of Red Riding Hood.

  Inhaling deeply to steel my nerves, I close the door.

  When I join them in the kitchen, he’s arranging jam and butter and other things my grandma obviously loaded into his arms on the simple, rectangular oak table. While Nana pulls back the blue-and-white-patterned curtains to let in the morning sun, Trayan’s eyes are on me, watching my every move.

  “Sit down, you two,” Nana squeals happily and gives me a gentle shove in the back as she fetches the milk from the fridge to make hot chocolate for us. I don’t want to sit alone with Trayan, so I busy myself bringing three plates with cutlery and then the sugar and cream for Nana’s coffee.

  In the meantime, Nana retrieves the breadbasket from the pantry and hands it to me. It’s loaded with fresh buns and scones. What the hell—? They even feel warm through the wicker basket. “Where did you get these from? I thought you just got out of bed?”

  “Ah, they’re leftovers from yesterday.”

  “They look pretty fresh.”

  “Let’s hope they taste well, too.” She grins brilliantly, and since I don’t want to accuse her of running Hell’s kitchen here, I place the basket with the rest of our breakfast.

  A pair of chestnut eyes fix on me from across the table and make me freeze. Damn, is it too late to run? Trayan shrugs out of his black leather jacket and hangs it over the chair where my grandfather used to sit years ago. “You have a very cozy home, Mrs. Potts,” he says in a warm voice, lowering onto the seat. But he doesn’t look at her.

  “Thank you. Abby always adds a little warmth when she’s here.” Nana puts a cup of hot chocolate in front of us and then pushes me down onto the chair opposite Trayan. She takes a seat at the head of the table, spooning sugar into her coffee.

  “Still enjoying your stay in…Transylvania?” That question goes straight to me—not that he has looked anywhere else in the past three minutes. People here usually call this area Ardeal. He’s a stranger, he may not know.

  Or he knows very well and just wants to test my reaction to the creepy name because everyone knows it as the hometown of Count Dracula and his band of vampires.

  I refuse to give him any hint that I know what he’s playing at and just nod, reaching for the big breadknife to cut a bun. Boy, it feels good to wrap my fingers around that blade.

  Trayan picks up his cup, but when he drinks, his gaze slides to Nana’s mug for a brief moment. Coffee would certainly be more to his liking, and he was just too polite to say so when Nana didn’t give him a choice. In her view, anyone younger than her is still a kid, even if that person is already fifty years old. And kids drink cocoa, not coffee. When my parents come here with me for Christmas, they only get hot chocolate, too.

  “Rosemarie said you’re from Norwich. Nice place,” Trayan continues and puts down his cup.

  I almost slice my hand. Shit. Rosemarie! All the blood drains from my face, and the knife clatters onto my plate.

  Nana gapes at me with big, dark eyes. “What a nervous little thing you are this morning.”

  “Sorry,” I murmur and grimace, but my mind races in circles. Rosemarie…and her grandaunt Emily! Somebody has to warn them. They’re housing a werewolf and have no idea of the danger they’re in.

  On autopilot, I continue smearing butter and blueberry jam on my bun while I try to come up with the right words to make the Wynters throw Trayan out of their house and send him back to Scotland. Considering the weird arguments I overheard recently, it may not be so hard to convince Rosemarie to kick him out.

  “He’s right, Abby.” Nana strokes my forearm. “At present, it’s not safe to be out at night alone.”

  “Hmm? What?” My head snaps up. Both of them scrutinize me as if I missed half of their conversation over the past two minutes—which I just may have with how my thoughts had gone astray. I shove a piece of the bun into my mouth. Oh, boy, the sweet jam does wonders for my strength. I realize just how weak my body feels. I’m merely driven by the adrenaline-rush of panic.

  “You never know what dangerous creatures roam the neighborhood after dark,” Trayan says, but I can’t figure o
ut if he’s talking to my grandma or me at the moment. And then who does he mean? Quentin or himself?

  “You’re speaking about the berserk wolf?” I ask, taking another big bite.

  “Berserk?” A funny smirk graces the corners of Trayan’s mouth. “Why do you think the wolf is berserk?”

  Because he’s sitting here at the table with Nana and me and ogling me like his second breakfast.

  Good grief. What if I’m totally wrong here? What if he’s just a normal guy and I’m whacking out for nothing? There must be a subtle way to find out without giving away what I think I know. It can’t be so hard, can it? I sip from my cup, fixing him with a stare over the rim. “Well, what else would you call it when it comes so close to civilization and leaves a bloodbath in its wake?”

  While Nana gets up and takes her mug to the sink to rinse it, Trayan’s gaze lowers to his still empty plate, his fingers tightening around his cup. “That’s hardly what it did. The wolf ripped up some poultry and a few sheep. It’s in their nature to hunt other animals.”

  That is something Rosemarie would say, too, defending any kind of animal with her big heart. Only Trayan doesn’t seem as if he’s got such a big heart. More like a big mouth, one he used to kill Rosemarie’s goose, Lucifer. Who’s next? Rosemarie herself? Her aunt? Or someone in this room, maybe?

  I nail him with a grim glare. “Is it in their nature to hunt humans, too?”

  A muscle starts to tick in his jaw as he leans back, keeping his hands around the cup on the table, his sharp eyes on me. “They don’t normally attack people. But if someone’s running away from them, their instincts might kick in.” His knuckles turn white from the hard grip. If he isn’t careful, he’ll break Nana’s china any minute.

  Did I actually hit a nerve? Holy cow, he must be the wolf! My heart races in my chest, and panic makes me slip my hand into my pocket. The little silver whistle that Nana gave me for exactly this kind of situation is still in there. I swallow and pull it out. “Shouldn’t wolves keep a fair distance from inhabited areas?” I croak and fumble with the whistle on the table.