“Nooo!” I screamed, the only human who could speak for the wolves. I bolted from the tire swing, trying to stop the men before they reached the pack. Blood pounded in my ears, adrenaline kicking in as I prepared for the confrontation. But as I tried to grab one of them, the hunter whirled around.
It was Cooper, dressed like the others, his eyes wild with anger. His furious expression morphed to disgust as I dropped to my knees and felt the change take hold. My emotions had overpowered my human form. There was no turning back. No lupine stone to stop it. My nightgown fell to shreds as the sped-up change took hold of my body, the transformation fluid like Ezra’s pack’s had been.
Cooper backed away, watching slack-jawed as I roared up in my wolf body, growling. I heard the other wolves running up behind me, smelled their scent of forest and night. We circled the hunters, emboldened by our numbers. In the distance, though, my father’s call echoed again. My ears pricked toward the sound. I turned my head.
In that split second, I heard the rifle shot before I felt it, the scorching agony of the bullet puncturing my pelt. I stumbled forward, a wheezy yelp escaping my throat. Warm blood trickled from my wound, splattering on the pretty pebbles.
Rick and the other hunters let out a cheer as I collapsed on the ground.
Fearing for their lives, the pack dispersed, running to the trees. Only Morgan stood beside me, snapping his jaws at the hunters as they leveled their guns at him. Whoops echoed through the park as the shooters picked off the other wolves, one by one.
My gaze drifted heavenward, toward the moon. The great truth-teller, the great stoic mother, watched us with an unblinking eye.
I started awake with a scream and found Fawn standing in the doorway.
“You okay?” she said, coming in to take a seat on my bed. “I heard you yelling.”
“Nightmare.” I scratched at my stomach, feeling the fire of the phantom bullet’s entry.
“Sounded like a bad one.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my heartbeat. “Yeah,” I said, not wanting to elaborate. I turned and plumped up the pillows behind me.
“You were a wolf in the dream? I’ve had those too,” she said. “It’s not all bad, is it? You know, when you turn…” Fawn touched a hand to the pendant around her neck, her fingers moving over it in a soothing gesture.
“The pain of the transformation sucks, but running free, seeing things through the wolf’s eyes—that’s indescribable.”
“If this necklace gets returned to Morgan. Then I’d get to run,” Fawn said, letting go of the pendant and stuffing her hands in the pockets of the sweatshirt she had over her oversized T-shirt.
“It’s not a get-to kind of thing. It’s dangerous. That’s why you can’t tell anyone, not even Lewis.”
“I wouldn’t tell him, don’t worry,” Fawn said, with a dismissive laugh. “My boyfriend may be a lot of things, but a good secret keeper isn’t one of them.”
I lay back against the pillows, letting out a long sigh. “No one can know.”
Fawn hugged her knees to her chest. “The Bowmans know.”
“Yeah, because Rick is a hunter. But they won’t tell anyone. People would think they were delusional.”
“So I’ll never get to be a wolf,” Fawn said.
“As long as the Bowmans and that other wolf pack are hanging around, you don’t want to be. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Even in the darkness, I could sense Fawn’s disappointment. “Hey, get some sleep. Don’t worry about the wolf stuff. Dad and I are going to handle it.”
“And Morgan wants to help. Even though Dad was growly with him, I think it went well. He liked my dinner, anyway.”
I laughed softly. “Of course he did. You’re good. Really good. Rose was right, you should think about culinary school someday.”
Fawn slid her feet down to the floor and got up. “Thanks. That means a lot. You may not know this, but sometimes I need to hear a little encouragement. You know, even with my good self-esteem and all.”
“Okay, you dork. Go to sleep,” I said, as I tossed a throw pillow at her.
As Fawn left the room, I reached for my phone on my nightstand to text Morgan. We had to make peace with the other wolves. If we didn’t band together and keep Cooper from ganging up with the hunters, just like in my dream…there would be blood.
Chapter Four
On Thursday night after my shift, Morgan and I sat in the parking lot of Frontier Lanes, staring at the neon outline of a lumberjack pitching a bowling ball. The pins flickered ghostly red and white against the background of the surrounding forest on the highway between Pioneer Falls and Still Creek. The place had been dark for years. I hadn’t even heard it was in business again. And maybe it wasn’t. We were the only vehicle in the parking lot besides a blue Honda parked near a side entrance.
“Wolf pack manor, milady,” Morgan said, shutting off the engine of his SUV. “Are you sure about this? Your father—”
“Is wrong.” I gave Morgan an uneasy smile. “He wants to protect me, but there’s no way around dealing with these wolves. Giving them a heads-up about Cooper has to be worth something.”
Morgan winced. “You may not want to bring Cooper’s name up specifically,” he said. “You don’t want them to see him as a target, do you?”
“I hadn’t thought about that.” My shoulders slumped.
Morgan slipped his arm around me and leaned in closer. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “Maybe your father’s right.”
“We have to try.” Even if I didn’t like them, they deserved a warning. I crossed my arms, staring at the dark entrance. “You have weapons, right?”
“You don’t bring firepower to a parley,” Morgan said, kissing my forehead. “This is about reason, not might.”
“Okay.” A pit formed in my stomach. No weapons? That worried me, even if Morgan was there to protect me. “Let’s get it over with.” We got out of the Subaru and walked toward the entrance. I paused at the front door. “Wait—what’s the game plan? Do we have one?”
“I’ll keep things calm and impartial,” Morgan said. “You’ll say what you need to say. Warn them. If you feel it’s going well you can bring up the pendants.”
“And if it doesn’t go well?”
Morgan smiled tightly. “We may have to improvise.”
I shivered, thinking of what might happen if things did get out of control. If they turned on us, we could be in real trouble. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“They’re expecting us,” Morgan said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “They’ve probably already smelled us.”
“True.” Swallowing my fear, I pulled open the door. I trusted Morgan. I felt like he’d protect me if things got bad. He had before.
As we stepped inside, shadows filled the interior of the bowling alley. Twenty or so lanes gleamed under the harsh, greenish glow of a couple emergency exits. On the concourse above the lanes, red and orange carpet stretched out as bright as a tongue after fruity Popsicles. The pinging of arcade games sounded nearby, along with the low hum of appliances. Beyond the scent of foot sweat, deodorant spray, and decades of cigarette smoke hung the smell of fresh paint, cleaning solutions, floor wax, too.
In the poor lighting, it was a little hard to tell the quality of the work that’d been done, but it looked as if they had serious plans of reopening the place. I’d forgotten that werewolves were everyday people—like Dad, they had jobs. After forming such a bad opinion of that pack, of their craftiness, their viciousness, I guess I hadn’t expected them to have any kind of talent or redeeming qualities. Considering they’d only been in town for a few weeks, I was impressed.
“Ezra’s pack did this?”
Morgan seemed to be checking things out as well. “Appears so,” he murmured. Then he offered me his arm and said, “Shall we?”
The front door flew open behind us. I swiveled and saw Dad charging toward us. “What do you think you’re doing, bringing my daughter here?” he grow
led at Morgan.
I held up my hands. “Don’t be mad, okay? I made Morgan arrange this.”
“I specifically told you to forget this idea,” he said, ignoring me and addressing Morgan.
“You did.” Morgan’s gaze didn’t waver from Dad’s glare. His posture stiffened and I could tell that he was struggling with what to say.
“You would put Lily in harm’s way for your own agenda?” Dad said, his lip curling in a snarl. My anxiety grew. I didn’t need him and Morgan fighting before we even got to meet with Ezra’s pack. But at this point, I didn’t know if the so-called parley was even going to happen. “What did they promise you if you delivered her to them?” Dad said, his hands curling at his sides.
Morgan’s eyes held a look of genuine remorse. “That’s not my motivation here. I’ve told you, sir, my only—”
“Don’t sir me,” Dad snapped.
I stepped between them. “Don’t be mad at Morgan. It was my idea. Seriously. I told him we had to come here. I have a really bad feeling about what’s happening with Cooper and if we don’t warn these guys, a wolf could die. That’ll make things worse for all of us.”
Dad’s disappointed look made me feel sick. “Do you know how I’d feel if anything happened to you?” he said, putting his hand on my arm. “And you…you helped Lily disobey me.”
Morgan frowned and then glanced at me as if to ask if he should defend himself, but I shook my head. “Look, Dad—we’re here now. They shouldn’t see us fighting,” I said.
Dad shot a glance toward the concession stand area—the source of the sounds of arcade games in progress and a wafting scent of hot grease. “You’re right,” he said, lowering his voice. “It’s too late. They heard all of this.”
Morgan lifted his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Turner. I should’ve talked her out of this.”
“You have a problem with authority in your own pack, I’m guessing. But in this family, the alpha reigns. You got that?”
“Aye.” Morgan nodded, a reticent smile traveling across his lips.
“I don’t feel good about you being here,” Dad whispered to me.
“I’m not missing this. And I’m not afraid of them.” Well, maybe a little.
Dad’s gaze swept back toward the concession stand. “Just so we’re clear, the goal here is to gain trust and get information. Let me do the talking.” Dad pulled his stomach in and straightened. He wasn’t a tall man, but he was athletically built, strong. He shifted into his cop walk, a gait that was both determined and authoritative, his feet spread wide.
We advanced deeper into the bowling alley, Dad leading the way. Blue, white, and pink light from neon beer signs illuminated the viewing area above the lanes. Dings and bells of a pinball machine grew louder. As we passed the shoe rental area, I got a deeper hit of deodorizing spray and foot sweat. And then I smelled a wolf –– a familiar scent of forest, machine oil, and cheap aftershave.
Ezra Smith sat in a large circular booth overlooking the lanes. Old age had dried his skin like an apple, his complexion hovering in the tan and brown tones. His long white hair was combed back from his forehead. I’d come face to face with him as a wolf in the forest and briefly in human form in town at the football game, when I’d handed out missing flyers two weeks ago. But he was more frightening up close—his cold, calculating smile and his beady-eyed stare made my skin crawl.
I swallowed and forced my feet to keep moving. I felt Morgan’s hand at the small of my back, which was reassuring.
Two young men, noticing they had guests, abandoned their pinball game and walked over to flank the booth Ezra occupied. They were obviously brothers, sharing similar features. Neither guy smiled as their gazes rippled over me. They’d been the ones stalking us while Dad had been missing. Funny, they didn’t look half as creepy now that they’d had haircuts and probably a shower. Their clothes smelled new. The taller muscular one wore a gray flannel button-down shirt and black pants. The other, thinner brother wore a more casual zipped sweatshirt over blue jeans.
Humming, a woman exited the kitchen carrying a tray of beers and paper-lined baskets of food. She wore an ill-fitting bowling shirt over loose khaki pants. Her brownish-gray hair was pinned back in a severe bun. She’d been the one who impersonated a social worker, trying to scare me when Dad had been missing. “Well, now. Welcome to our soft open,” she said, a twist of a smile on her thin lips. “It’s a regular friends and family event, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say friends or family,” I muttered.
“Here you go, Ezzie.” The woman deposited the tray on the table, then took a seat next to him. If she started to hand feed the old wolf fried chicken, I was going to puke.
“Let me get this straight.” Dad dragged a chair from an adjoining table to the open side of the booth and sat down. “You’re actually going to operate this old money pit?”
Ezra showed him a toothy, yellowed smile. “Why not? The area is hungry for a wholesome diversion like this. Ought to bring in a good crowd.” His words were laced with a slight twang.
Somewhere an ancient heater kicked on, sending the smell of burning dust and hair through the air. The woman noticed it too, lifting her face toward the register, frowning. Meanwhile, my father kept his eyes on Ezra as though he was in some kind of staring contest. It was unnerving. I felt Morgan’s hand on my back, keeping me standing. I hadn’t thought of sitting down. Not when I might need to run.
The old man took his time selecting a piece of fried chicken from the basket. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”
Dad’s gaze remained on Ezra. “We’re not here to pay you tribute.”
“Gentlemen, may I remind you this is a parley?” Morgan interrupted. “We’re opening a dialogue.”
“A dialogue, how quaint,” Ezra said, and then crunched into a chicken wing. His eyes rolled up into his head as he let out a little moan of approval.
I didn’t know how parleys normally went, but this posturing was taking a while. I shifted my weight, putting a hand on one hip and motioned to the two young wolves. “Should we start with introductions?”
“Oh, we know who you are.” Ezra smiled at Dad and took another bite of chicken. My skin crawled at the tone of his voice.
Dad bared his teeth at Ezra, his temper rising. I put a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to play it cool.
“I think that’s a nice idea. A way of beginning again. I’m Gladys,” the woman said with a little smile, cracking open one of the beers and placing it in front of her alpha. “These boys are Ezra’s sons.”
I recognized a look in the older one’s eyes from our interaction in the cemetery. “You’re the black wolf,” I said to him. Morgan shifted beside me, his hand moving to the small of my back again.
“Yes. The name’s Jonah.” He showed his perfect white teeth in a brief smile. His dark eyes glittered.
The younger, lanky guy waved a hand. Like Jonah, he had deep brown eyes and a sharp jaw, but his expression showed no menace. “Nathaniel,” he said.
“I’m Lily,” I said, ignoring Ezra’s throat clearing. The old man had the manners of, well…a wolf. “You know Morgan and my father George.”
“Well, then.” Ezra smiled tightly. “Now that the pleasantries are concluded,” he said, picking a crumb from the sleeve of his green plaid shirt, examining it for a second before popping it into his mouth. “Shall we get straight to pack business?”
“We’re not your pack,” Dad said. “Get that straight.” I saw a muscle twitch in his jaw and I worried he’d lose his temper.
“Again, gents—this is a parley,” Morgan said, concern in his eyes but his tone calm. “Not a confrontation.”
“Call it all the pretty words you want to,” Ezra said, waving his fingers dismissively, and then leaning his elbows on the table. “This is about defeat and surrender.”
“No, it’s not,” I said, my hands trembling. “We’re here to discuss concerns, not join your brood.”
“Easy now,” Da
d cautioned, turning to shoot me a stern look. “They are a pack, not a brood.”
Ezra smiled, deeper wrinkles showing at the sides of his eyes. “Why, thank you, George. That distinction means a great deal to me. Your father would be proud, I’m sure.”
Dad let out a displeased grunt. I frowned at Ezra, wondering why he’d bring Dad’s family up. He obviously would use any tactic to get under my dad’s skin.
“If you’re not here to join us, then why come?” Jonah asked, his lip curling in a nasty smile. “You looking for a part-time job at a bowling alley, Lily?”
I scoffed. “No.”
“Oh, that’s right, you like your little coffee shop with that sweet Maggie.” Jonah’s grin widened. He leaned an elbow on the back of the booth.
“You stay away from her!” I started to move toward him.
Morgan pulled me back, whispering, “That’s his aim. To provoke you.”
Nathaniel shifted, seeming irritated by Jonah’s antics. “I have work to do. What’s the point of this?” He was rewarded by a glare from Ezra.
“There are two issues in play—the return of stolen property and the matter of security,” Morgan said. “Where shall we begin?”
“If by security you mean territory, then yes, that’s worth discussing. The other matter isn’t up for discussion,” Ezra said, taking a sip of the open beer.
I was about to say something, but Dad held up a hand. I had to remember that he was the alpha, that I was supposed to follow his lead.
“Because of your cavalier actions, we’re on the hunters’ radar,” Dad said. “You’ve risked exposing everyone. And leaving your DNA all over town wasn’t a great idea.”
Ezra winced and sat up a little taller in the booth. “Some of us left more than DNA in a snare.” Gladys opened her mouth to say something, but Ezra shushed her. “If you’re asking us to keep a low profile, we’re already doing that. We intend to run this bowling alley and this territory. Join us while it’s a choice and not a command.”
“That’s not up for discussion,” I said, parroting Ezra’s earlier comment.
A Forest So Deadly (Pioneer Falls Book 2) Page 5
