A Forest So Deadly (Pioneer Falls Book 2)

by Heather Davis

  “Yeah. I was going to talk to you about that.”

  He set his mug back down. “So, guess who’s on duty during the festival.”

  “Oh, crap.” I wrapped my arms around my middle, the cold seeming to deepen around me. “You have to get out of it.”

  “It’s going to be really obvious if I duck out while I’m on duty. I’m not sure if the sheriff’s buying my PTSD cover story.”

  ”If we had our lupine stones back, you wouldn’t have to transform.”

  “Easier said than done,” Dad said, with a bitter laugh.

  I considered what to tell him, and finally decided I should start with the conversation with Ezra and keep the phone to myself a little while longer. Sheriff Polson would’ve probably told him she saw me and Rose there anyway.

  “I saw Ezra’s pack earlier, at the grocery store. They’re claiming they bought those lupine stones from Kyle. They really don’t care that they were stolen from us. We’re supposed to be cunning, right? Can’t we trick them somehow, steal them back?”

  “Without starting a full-out war? Not likely.” He scratched at his cheek, where his stubble was showing.

  “You can’t just change on duty at the festival. I don’t think ‘werewolf cop’ would go over too well.”

  He frowned, not appreciating my lame joke. “No, I’ll run off somehow and join you.”

  “But the hunters will be waiting. And I think they used the festival this way in the past. To draw out shifters.”

  Dad lifted his chin a little, giving me an appraising glance. “Someone told you that?”

  “No, but I heard about how much chaos it caused and it’s always been on the full moon. Kind of makes sense.” I shrugged. “You know the reason they stopped the festival, right?”

  Dad nodded. “Yeah. I’ve heard stories. Older people in town still gossip about it.”

  “Pretty ominous, having two people shot in the woods during the festivities. What if they were werewolves? You can’t tell me it’s not a possibility.”

  Dad took a sip of his hot chocolate, giving me a look over the rim of his mug. “You can’t think like that,” he said.

  I got up from the bench. “It’s kinda hard not to. I don’t want us to end up dead.”

  “We’ll be okay. I’ll figure something out,” my dad called out as I went inside.

  But I’d heard that before. The last time, though, it’d been my own voice telling the twins everything would be all right, that I’d figure out a way to save them from being turned into werewolves on their birthday. But the stakes were even greater now. And the consequences might be lethal.

  ***

  I closed my locker at the end of school the next day, my bag heavy on my shoulder. Fawn waved at me from the end of the hallway, where she leaned against the wall talking to Lewis. I started walking toward them, thinking I could probably catch a ride home.

  “Hey, I was looking for you,” Ms. Wilson said, hurrying to catch up with me.

  I stopped and waited for her. “I turned in my article, don’t worry.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Ms. Wilson’s dress, in a crimson red, matched her lipstick color. Her mahogany-colored hair was waved to the side, giving her an almost retro Hollywood look. I’d noticed that she’d been extra dressed up in class that day, but here, in the pale greenish white of the hallway, the effect was especially strong.

  I’d been favoring black clothes lately, hadn’t been trying very hard in the fashion department. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress anyone. Ms. Wilson’s outfit, though, made me feel a little underdressed.

  She seemed to notice my scrutiny. “I’m presenting something at a meeting later,” she explained.

  “You do look nice.”

  Ms. Wilson smiled. “Anyway, I’m glad I caught you. I had a chance to read your article. The anecdotal information you provided from the postmaster.”

  “He was pretty helpful.”

  “About that––I think you need to edit out some of the history, you know, about the discontinuation of the festival?”

  I tilted my head at her. “Huh? I researched his quote. It’s in the old clips from the town newspaper. It was easy to confirm.”

  Her lips twitched into an uneasy smile. “Yes, well…the idea was to focus on the more tourist-friendly aspects, not scare people away from attending.”

  “You asked for historical background on the festival. That’s what happened. Why they called it off for so many years.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Right. But, you know, local merchants buy advertising and we don’t want to scare them off. They support our newspaper.”

  I gave her a hard look. “So don’t tell the truth?”

  She held up her hands in surrender. “No, no. Tailor your angle. You have to know your audience. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Won’t people will be wondering why we haven’t had it in over fifty years, don’t you think?”

  “Lily!” Ms. Wilson let a sharp exclamation escape. “Edit the piece and resubmit it tonight. You can email it to me.” Her voice had an edge.

  I felt a little taken aback, but I didn’t think she was right at all. “You’re missing the creepy factor goes along with Halloween,” I said, shaking my head. “Notoriety would actually attract more people.”

  She glared at me, something she’d never done before. “It’s like you don’t want people to come to the festival!”

  I hadn’t really thought that’s what I was doing, but then again, if no one came to the festival the hunters wouldn’t have the camouflage of the crowds. “I, well…”

  Ms. Wilson curled a piece of her bangs behind her ear. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset.” She forced a polite smile. “Just send me the edited version tonight, please. You’re one of my best student reporters, I know you can take this feedback and run with it.” She headed back down the hall, her pumps clacking on the linoleum.

  “What was that?” Fawn asked when I approached.

  “Just finding out our newspaper is some kind of chamber of commerce mouthpiece.”

  “Huh?” Fawn said, linking her arm with Lewis’s. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “She means the media is owned by corporations,” Lewis said. “Even at Pioneer Falls High.”

  “I feel so used,” I said, managing a laugh. But it did feel weird to have to edit out something that people really might want to know about the town. Something that had changed my own opinion of the festival. Sure, the chamber of commerce had a financial stake in the outcome of the festival, but what if there was more to Ms. Wilson’s reluctance to include that dark history than just fear of controversy. Then again, if I brought to light the historical murder, maybe that would only rile the hunters up, give them more of a sense of what could be accomplished under the guise of a wholesome yet chaotic town event. I filed the murder story away in my mind. Maybe I’d use it later for a different article, in another place and time.

  ***

  That night, I stepped into a familiar dreamscape. The town, but ablaze with lights for a party. In the gazebo on Town Square Park, a string quartet played trill-filled classical music meant for courtly dancing and the costumed guests complied. A witch waltzed by with a superhero, a princess twirled with a fire fighter. Their movements so calculated and formal, they could have easily been in a palace’s ballroom.

  I looked down to see my own costume, a cat tail at my feet, a gray and black bodysuit with a fur vest. My wrists, neck, and face exposed. At the edge of the crowd, a real wolf, dark gray with yellow eyes, waited—Morgan, his nose up, sniffing the air, his hackles raised.

  My own senses tingled. Something was coming. Overhead, a harvest moon rose majestic and golden, casting its glow on the partygoers below. My exposed skin drank in the beams, the feeling of sunbathing at night, energy transferring into me.

  Glancing back at the dance, I saw Fawn and Rose, swaying together, both of them dressed as mermaids. The music ended
and the crowd began to disperse, revealing Ezra, Gladys, Nathaniel, Jonah, waiting on the fringes in their human forms. And in the nearby alley my father, still in his tan deputy uniform, but morphing, taking his wolf shape.

  A scream sounded—it was my own voice as I cramped and folded over. I scrambled to the dark alley as the change began to hit me. I didn’t see a safe, private place to transform. I was exposed.

  As I raced to the cover of darkness at the end of the lane, dark figures emerged from behind the bins and boxes. I heard the shuck-shuck of shells being chambered in shotguns. I fell to my knees, conscious of my clothes shredding as my physical form changed.

  I closed my eyes, feeling pain coursing through my wolf body. Not just the pain of becoming an animal, but the searing heat of a bullet lodged in me. And then I had the feeling of being dragged, my legs unable to struggle, my muscles seizing. There was a buzzing, a sound gnawing at the back of my head. My sight came in waves.

  Then there was a blur of fur and muscle as two wolves dove into the firefight in the alley. Blood smells all around. The metallic twang of gunpowder. The deafening sound of the blasts echoing off the walls of the alley. The cries and whimpers of hurt animals.

  I fought to wake up. Telling myself it was a dream, even as my vision tunneled to black. Heart racing, I jolted awake and sat up. I untangled myself from the sheets that were wrapped around my legs, trapping me in the fabric. Panting, I glanced around, searching for familiar shapes, trying to make sense of my room in the dark.

  I heard the buzzing sound from my dream again. My hand reached for my phone on the nightstand. It was lit with a text from Morgan.

  ***

  “What are you doing here?” I said, slipping out the back door with a coat in hand. I’d thrown on some sneakers and a hoodie over my yoga pants and cami. Conscious of how the dream had made me sweat, I ran a hand over my hair and pulled it into a bun.

  “I was in the middle of a nightmare,” I said.

  He reached a hand up to my cheek and caressed it with his thumb. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is that why you’re here–– You heard me, like telepathically?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought you might be up for a quick walk.” His eyes shone in the low light on the porch. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his parka and grinned shyly. “You said you wanted more time together.”

  I glanced back at the door. Everyone was sleeping. Sneaking out wasn’t my normal thing. Fawn was the one who did that and it drove Dad crazy.

  “Just for a few minutes. I promise.” Morgan steered me toward the driveway.

  “Fine.” I pulled on my coat and whispered, “Where are we going?”

  “Your favorite place.”

  I gave him a skeptical smile. “You don’t know where that is.”

  “I think I’ve guessed it.” Morgan took his hand in mine. Warm, always warm, I thought, squeezing his fingers.

  A few minutes later, we sat on a bench in Falls Park. Across from us, the water pounded onto the rocks and into the river below, fed by hundreds of tiny creeks in the surrounding hills. Little things contributing to greater waters, their powers concentrating together into a powerful cascade. It was as beautiful as it was brutal.

  I loved everything about it—the crashing sounds, the dancing reflection of the small spotlights trained on the falls, the sheets of mist rising from the river as it cooled from daylight. It was one of the prettiest parts of town and it drowned out all the noises around it—sawmill, trains, cars, everything. When you stood before the falls, it demanded all your senses, all your attention.

  The fact that Morgan had figured out my happy place made me smile. There he was, paying attention again, learning things about me because he was interested. Because he wanted to know them. That was new. No one I’d dated before had been so curious.

  “I can see why you like this place. It’s impressive, nature’s force.” He leaned back on the bench, taking it all in. “Oh, wait—I also brought snacks,” he said, pulling a dark chocolate sea salt bar from his jacket.

  I nibbled at a piece he broke off for me. Bittersweet and salty, always a good combo. “Thanks. You really know how to woo a girl.”

  “ ‘Woo’? That’s precisely the word I was looking for,” he said, kissing me.

  His taste mingled with the chocolate, making me smile. When he pulled away, I brushed a crumb of salt from his lips. His eyes sparkled again in the reflected light, the perfect color of amber gold. In his wolf form, that was the thing I’d noticed about him. His eyes looked like a metallic pool in a dark forest.

  “This is good. Really good.” I leaned my head against his shoulder—taking in the smell of him, his musk, the faint hint of pine and earth from the forest that always accompanied his skin. I didn’t know much about biochemistry, but I did know that I felt a reaction to his fragrance—something more magnetic than I’d ever felt with anyone else. When had I ever craved someone’s presence when I was already in his presence? Never. There was a bond, something bigger than I’d known before. I breathed in again and Morgan stroked my hair.

  “Listen, I have to tell you something,” he said, smoothing a stray strand behind one of my ears. “That’s the other reason I wanted to pull you out of bed. I couldn’t tell you this over text and I’ve barely seen you this week, it feels like.”

  I sat up, the magic of the moments before dissipating like mist from the water’s crash to rocks. “You’re leaving.” The cold air nipped at my reddening cheeks.

  “I think it’s inevitable.” Morgan’s eyes looked glassy in the low light. “My pack’s getting antsy. They don’t like that I’m here without a stone. They sent me a ticket.”

  “But you’d have to fly really soon to beat the full moon.”

  “It seems so.” He shook his head.

  “So it’s not just my dad who wants us apart.”

  “No. They don’t… Well, they don’t know about you. I didn’t tell them.”

  “Oh.” I shivered a little in the wind that was stirring and pulled my coat’s hood up around my neck. I wanted to say more. Say something about his meeting a girl that he was destined to be with, his other half, more along the lines of what I was feeling, but I held back. I knew he couldn’t tell them about me. That wasn’t the protocol of his mission. He was already in trouble for staying this long.

  Morgan shifted on the bench, adjusting his arm around my shoulders. “I’m getting the strong impression there’s some bad blood between your father and my pack.”

  I nodded. “He never told us much about his past besides touring with bands.”

  “I did some checking after his reaction to my surname,” Morgan said, rubbing my arm. “London was his home at one point, and my pack was his pack until they had some kind of a falling out, years ago. He was off the grid until you called in for help. London didn’t pay much attention over the years as to where he might be. They could’ve searched for him but didn’t. I found that odd. He hasn’t told you anything?”

  “Not his style.” I kept my emotions at bay, though I felt myself on the verge of tears. I was still stuck on the idea of Morgan leaving, something I’d been afraid of since I’d started to care about him.

  “You could come to London,” Morgan said, a hopeful lilt to his voice. “There must be a study-abroad program when you get to university.”

  “I’m still waiting to hear if I got in.”

  “But you’ve been saving, you’re meant to go.”

  “Without a stone, I don’t know how I’d even handle things.”

  “Day classes, escape home on the full moon. You’d make do. It’s not ideal, but many I know live that way. I was a lucky lad to have my stone this long. At least back in London I’ll have the protection of the pack around me again. It’s easier there.”

  “So tell me. Are we doomed?” I asked.

  “As a people?”

  “No. I mean us.” I glanced at Morgan, trying to read his expression. Pain, worry, confusion, he
had to be feeling some of what was feeding through my body, my heart.

  I crossed my arms, the cold seeping into me again. “Just when I find someone like you, you have to leave.”

  “I know, love,” Morgan said. “If I stay, there’d be a cost to my pack relationships. To my family.”

  “And they’re everything to you…just like mine to me.”

  “Aye.” Morgan pulled me closer and kissed my forehead.

  “I don’t want you to go.” I tilted my face toward him, feeling like this couldn’t be real.

  “Hey!” he said, slipping a hand under my chin. “I’m still here. Don’t forget that. I’m with you. No mourning allowed.” He touched his lips to mine, and I was lost in another kiss.

  Maybe he was right. This moment was what mattered. Being together. Feeling his arms around me. Morgan was the reality I cared about. He knew who and what I was and cared about me anyway. Maybe even loved me. If I could dare to think that big.

  Fog had risen around the bench, almost hiding us from the world. That was what this supernatural thing was like. A life hidden amidst all the other things going on in the world. A secret we shared away from the regular, normal world.

  I kissed him back like I’d never let him go, while inside my heart was breaking.

  Chapter Nine

  “Lily! We’ve been calling you for like twenty minutes.” Fawn pulled back the blankets.

  I flinched first at the light, then squinted at Fawn’s borrowing—my black cardigan with the white kitty cat motif. She’d paired it with her red T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. I put the pillow over my head and peeked out at my sisters again. “I don’t want to get up.”

  “C’mon!” Rose urged, waving at me to get my butt out of bed. She was ready and dressed in a blue skirt and a gray turtleneck. I caught the scent of fresh polish from her worn leather boots.

  “What time is it?” I groaned.

  “It’s late. If you want a ride with Lewis, he’ll be here any second.” Fawn walked to my dresser and pinned one of her braids back with one of my faux pearl-studded barrettes. “Dad’s already gone to work in the truck. Or you could walk, but you’ll be late.”