A Forest So Deadly (Pioneer Falls Book 2)

by Heather Davis

  “Seriously!” I hissed. “You can’t be trying to kill each other here in the middle of town.”

  Nathaniel snapped his head toward me, his lips curled and all his teeth showing. I jumped back, my skin prickling with chills. I’d seen his wolf before in the forest at a distance, but this version, the bloodthirsty one, made me want to run.

  Meanwhile, Morgan pawed at the ground, impatience showing in his expression. He made a few woofing sounds, then lunged at Nathaniel. It surprised me that Morgan would make the first move, showing more of his father’s temperament than I’d expected. He narrowly missed Nathaniel, who bounded off toward the alley. Morgan, drawn by the chase, took off after him.

  “Wait!” I called out, but they were gone. Way ahead of me, running toward town. I dropped my backpack and pastries on the grass and tried to catch up on foot. It wasn’t going to be easy. I sprinted as hard as I could, wishing I had sneakers on instead of boots. I groaned when I saw them in the distance, racing across the bridge at top speed toward the thick woods on the other side of the river.

  A few minutes later, I crossed the bridge, gasping, exhausted. I’d never catch them if I stayed in human form. They were too fast. Swearing under my breath, I hunkered down in a stand of trees and undressed. I’d never changed on purpose before, without the full moon’s pull. This was going to be new. I crouched bare-skinned, waiting for the change to come. I closed my eyes and willed it to come, repeating something my father had told me to try. “I call on the ancients. I call on Mother Moon. Reveal my true nature.”

  About the third time, I felt a ripple of pain in my legs and my skin began to burn with the familiar fire of transforming. It hurt a little less than when I’d changed with direct moonlight, but agony lessened by a few degrees isn’t much better. Pain scorched my tendons and muscles and my guts ached. I breathed through it as best I could, trying to squelch my revulsion. As they changed, my hands always freaked me out the most, hairy paws evolving from my fingers, sharp claws sprouting and digging into the earth beneath me. But once they were formed, I knew the shifting was complete.

  Panting, warm in my fur, I marveled at the woods coming alive before my eyes, a rainbow of dark colors, all the shades of the night. I emerged from the bushes into a mist coming from the river and lifted my wolf nose to the air. I got a direct hit of Morgan’s scent. I loped toward the smell, navigating a maze of trees and bushes.

  A quarter mile through the woods, I found Nathaniel and Morgan rolling in the dirt, grunting and growling as they fought. My arrival distracted them for a moment. They paused in their tussle, saw me, and then went back to it, with Morgan’s teeth angling toward Nathaniel’s neck. I howled, my version of a scream, but they didn’t stop.

  A gunshot cracked somewhere close, breaking the moment.

  The guys broke apart, abandoning their fight. All three of us turned in the direction of the blast. It was a single shot. And it didn’t seem to be aimed at us. But a second later, more shots sounded, along with the sound of breaking glass.

  Before I could catch Morgan, he was slinking through the trees toward the gunfire. Nathaniel followed him, and not wanting to be left alone, I had no choice but to join them. We edged a line of trees, peering onto a field, where headlights from multiple vehicles illuminated some kind of training session.

  Shooters dressed in camouflage or dark clothing formed a firing line. Bullets thudded into line of targets. Some smashed through glass bottles on logs. Walking between the various participants, Rick offered encouragement. “That’s right, Bob,” he said, slapping one of the shooters on the back. “You’re getting real close to a bull’s-eye.”

  Bob Murphy from the auto shop turned to grin at Rick. “I sure would love to add a wolf to my taxidermy collection. Stuff it and display it right next to that bobcat in my den,” he said, chambering another round in his shotgun. “I sure hope I see them on my property.”

  “Don’t let location stop you!” Rick said, giving out a laugh. “You shoot ‘em where you’d like and drag them over to your yard before you report the kill. No one’s gonna take a dead wolf’s word over yours.” He chuckled as he moved on to the next shooter.

  If I could have attacked Rick just then, I would’ve. His glee was sickening. Alex moved down the line, passing out more ammunition to some of the shooters. My heart sank, seeing him there.

  And then, Morgan nudged me, directing my attention to the far side of the group, where a familiar truck was parked. Cooper was out there, practicing for the hunt.

  That crushed me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the woods near the bridge, I shifted into my human form. Morgan and Nathaniel waited, still in their wolf bodies, politely pointing away from the stand of bushes I was using as cover. When the pain subsided, I brushed off pine needles and other bits of debris from my skin and hair, then pulled on my clothes quickly.

  “Do you see now why we need each other?” I asked, coming out of the thicket. “This is serious. I can’t believe Cooper was there.”

  Morgan whined, pawing the ground and throwing his head toward the bridge. He wanted to head back across, a good idea, since who knew when target practice would wrap up. “Go,” I said.

  He took off, Nathaniel trotting behind him. I wasn’t worried about them continuing to fight each other. The violence seemed to have drained out of Morgan and Nathaniel, the gravity of the target practice hard to ignore.

  As a human, I was a lot slower than the boys. Before I’d reached Main Street, a drizzle started. Drops dappled my coat. Streetlights shimmered on the pavement. The drizzle turned into a shower.

  I took shelter beneath an awning to get a break from the downpour when a truck came around the corner. Cooper, driving toward the cemetery a few blocks away. My feet told me to go home, but my broken heart told me to confront him. I wasn’t afraid of doing it. He’d made me deal with some pretty harsh truths when Dad was missing. And I wasn’t giving him over to the hunters, with their messed-up ideas of right and wrong.

  It wasn’t a long walk to the cemetery, but I was drenched by the time I reached the gates. I let myself in and wound down the paths that led to the caretaker’s cottage, the place Cooper’d lived in before his father was killed.

  He’d parked his truck alongside of the building. The cooling engine pinged against the hiss of rain on the hot engine hood as he got out.

  “A bit late for you to be out,” he said. “You’re soaked.” Nodding toward the front door of his quarters, he acted like everything was normal, like he’d fix me a cup of tea and everything was cool. Like I should ignore the rifles I knew were in the cab of the truck. “You coming in?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I didn’t plan for all this rain,” I said, lowering my hood as we stepped under the entry’s overhang.

  “Rain’s the one thing you can count on these days.” Cooper’s voice was wooden, as if he were worried that I knew where he’d been.

  “Why didn’t you go home?” I shut the door behind us. “I mean, why aren’t you home?”

  Cooper hung up his coat and held a hand out for mine. “I had a few things to pick up here.” He glanced toward a table that held old weathered books, some of them histories of the town.

  I gaped at him. “You can’t be thinking of turning over the records, all the accounts from the 1800s…”

  “Anything to help them fight Ezra’s brood,” he muttered.

  “My dad asked the sheriff to re-open the case, Cooper. There’s new evidence. More suspects. It was never properly investigated.”

  “You’ve been saying it’s someone else for weeks. We’re no closer to someone else,” Cooper said, going to the table. “I’m tired of this.”

  “Listen to me–– your father had blunt trauma, internal injuries not caused by animal activity. He probably fell, or he was hit by something. Wolves don’t kill like that.”

  His face changed, agony scoring his features. “Then who did it?” He sank into a chair.

  “Maybe Bowman. His SUV
could’ve been the one spotted there that night. What about Mrs. Gillingham? The real estate holding company in your dad’s will? My dad checked it out. That was hers–– she had motive to inherit property. Ezra had nothing to gain from your dad’s passing, except leverage for intimidating me and my sisters. There are at least a few scenarios where it’s not Ezra’s pack. Don’t automatically side with Bowman and the hunters.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Don’t lie. You were there tonight.” I could barely say it, didn’t want it to be true. “I saw you.”

  Cooper looked at me, his blue eyes dark with pain. “I want this to end,” he said, his voice wavering. “Do you know he spent more time with his wolf hybrids than with me? That he assumed I’d take over protecting the town’s werewolves without even asking me? Lily, wolves stole him from me long before they tore him apart in the woods.”

  I could feel the frustration radiating off of him, his sadness, his powerlessness—it was heartbreaking. I touched Cooper’s shoulder. “We can bring the human killer to light, get justice. You’ll see—we can make it right,” I told him.

  “I survived two deployments only to return to nothing,” he said. “I have no family left. It’s never going to be right.”

  “You have us,” I said.

  Cooper shrugged away my touch. “Out of respect for your father, I won’t give the records to the hunters yet. But I’m not promising I won’t be firing on the rival pack if they come around to cause trouble. Or any wolf, for that matter.”

  My breath caught in my chest. He saw all of us as monsters. Not just Ezra, me too. “You know we’re not like them. Just like you’re not like Rick Bowman. You’re like your father, and he was a good man.”

  Cooper crossed his arms, his icy gaze firmly on me. After a minute, he pushed up out of the chair. “You all should stay clear of me.”

  I grabbed my coat and left, feeling pretty low. I needed to get home and let Dad know what we’d seen across the river and let him know about Cooper’s state of mind. At the cemetery gates, I paused, thinking I heard the sound of whispers in the trees. Then a single stray raven sailed through the mist and landed on a vacant branch, hushing the voices.

  “The spirits are restless,” I muttered, pulling up the hood of my jacket. I hurried on toward the bright lights of Main Street, newly grateful for the garish holiday glow. I made a turn toward Maggie’s to retrieve my backpack and the pastries. I didn’t see Morgan or Nathaniel. I hoped nothing bad had happened to either of them, but I hurried home so that nothing bad would happen to me.

  ***

  It’s eerie, suspecting you might know the time and circumstance of your own death. Hunters could isolate me and Dad at the festival, or follow us up into the hills on our full moon run. We weren’t prepared and we had no allies beyond Morgan. The sounds of ricocheting bullets and bursting glass bottles were a soundtrack to my bad dreams.

  I woke up, red-eyed and groggy. My low energy had me going through the motions at school. Nothing seemed worth it. The festival would start tomorrow and that meant the full moon was coming for us. My paranoia only increased when I heard my name called over the loudspeaker during sixth period.

  Down the hall in the office, Sheriff Polson waved me over to the chairs outside the vice principal’s office. “Is Dad okay?” I said, out of habit.

  “Yes, fine. He doesn’t know I’m here,” she said, holding up a hand to stop my freakout. “I wanted to talk to you about Mr. North’s cell phone. Your father said he got it from you.”

  “Yeah, Cooper gave it to me,” I said, taking a seat next to the sheriff.

  “And why wouldn’t he hand it over to me himself? The texts?”

  I nodded. “Mrs. Gillingham—I’m pretty sure he was embarrassed.” Or, I added mentally, he never wanted to believe the killer could be anyone other than the wolves.

  “I’ve talked to Mrs. Gillingham and she does say she saw some vehicles. A couple in town match the description, including one driven by your friend Morgan.”

  I frowned. “Mrs. Gillingham isn’t the most credible witness. She had something to gain from Ivan’s death, you know that.” I thought about mentioning the fact I’d seen her with Mr. Gray on that date the other night, but that wouldn’t really prove anything.

  The sheriff nodded. “You may be right about Mrs. Gillingham, but I’d still like Morgan to come down to the station. Anything else you’re holding on to?”

  I shook my head. “So you agree that there are human suspects, that it might not have been wolves.”

  “There’s not enough evidence yet to satisfy the town council. If I get a little closer on Ivan’s case, flip it to a homicide…that’d change minds. Spencer Jones is working on an injunction, but nothing’s come down from the county judge.”

  “Oh, wow. I hadn’t heard that yet.” Alicia had offered to help, but she hadn’t told me her father was going to fight the ordinance in court. We definitely owed the Joneses. But still, that wouldn’t help us with tomorrow’s full moon.

  “Did my dad tell you I witnessed people shooting target practice last night in a field over the bridge? They’re out for blood. Or worse, sport.”

  “Bob Murphy’s property. He let me know they’d be shooting there. People are just doing what they can to protect their families, their livestock.” The sheriff smiled tightly, letting me know she was done with that topic. “Why don’t you send Morgan down to see me? Didn’t look like anyone was home earlier when I was by.”

  “Sure. I’m gonna see him after school.”

  “Night off from the coffee shop?”

  I glanced up, wondering if she was implying something, but I didn’t see anything malicious in her expression. “Yeah, I’m taking all the day shifts this weekend.”

  She stood up and patted my arm. “All right. Bring Morgan on down later.”

  “Sure.” I followed her out of the office. The bell rang, releasing a flood of students from every doorway.

  When I got outside, Maggie waved to me from her black Volvo wagon. “You weren’t answering your texts,” she said.

  “You know…school,” I said, clicking my phone back to life. “What are you doing here?”

  “Get in,” she said. I hopped into the passenger seat and Maggie took off down the road before I was buckled in. I braced myself against the dashboard.

  “Whoa! Did something happen at the shop?”

  She shook her head. “No, honey.”

  “Uh-oh. What?”

  Maggie made a rolling stop at the four-way and zoomed toward Third Avenue, her street. “I can’t even,” she said, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know where to start…”

  “Is this about my not taking night shifts this weekend?”

  “He didn’t text you?” she said.

  “Who? What’s going on?”

  “Morgan’s gone.”

  ***

  A minute later, Maggie screeched the Volvo to a stop into her driveway. We both got out of the car, and then I ran up the steps to the apartment.

  “Something must have happened to him,” I said over my shoulder.

  The door was unlocked. And inside everything was clean and organized. The floor swept. The throw blanket placed on the sofa at a jaunty angle. The new bookshelves were fixed, dusted, and boasting all the volumes it could hold. The small refrigerator bare. The wastebaskets all emptied. The linens neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

  “He left it in perfect condition,” Maggie said, her voice tight.

  I got the sense of her meaning. It was worse that he’d cleaned up. It spoke to premeditation, a purposeful exit. All I wanted at the moment was to see the place trashed. Signs of a struggle. Something to tell me this hadn’t been his idea. That this hadn’t been a plan.

  “Did you guys have a fight?” Maggie asked.

  “No.” I plopped down on the couch. My insides felt queasy and my palms were sweaty. As the loss started to unfold inside of me, I had the sudden fear that I would change involuntarily
. That the dark wolf inside of me would break out in all my grief.

  “You don’t look so good.” Maggie said. “Stay right here. I’ll go call my cousin to let her know I won’t be back to the shop.”

  “It’s okay. I’m good.” I leaned my head back against the blanket and caught a lingering scent of Morgan’s cologne. A fresh wave of nausea rippled through me. My lungs struggled to pull in any air. It was partly the idea that Morgan was gone, and partly the fear that my identity was about to be revealed. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and drew my feet up onto the couch.

  “I’ll be right back.” Maggie patted me on the back as she passed by. “And I’ll bring us some tea or something. We’ll have a nice, long talk.”

  When Maggie left, my tears started welling. I shook my head, trying not to surrender to the hurt. I uncurled my body a little and dug around in my bag for my phone. Scrolling through my missed messages, I saw texts from Maggie asking if I knew where Morgan was. Apparently, she needed him to make a cupcake delivery for her. Nothing from Morgan. Not a single message.

  When we’d parted last night, he’d whined and then run off into the dark with Nathaniel, both of them in wolf form. I hadn’t seen him after, so maybe he never made it back. But there was no sign of a fight. Nothing out of place. He’d left today. In daylight.

  I called Morgan’s number and got a message it’d been disconnected. That hit me hard. By the time Maggie returned, my eyes were raw, puffy. She paused in the doorway with her tray of tea and then approached slowly.

  “His phone number doesn’t work anymore. That’s why he’s not getting back to you,” I choked out.

  Maggie sighed as she set the tray on the coffee table. “Lily, he’s really gone. I found this on my dining room table.” She pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to me. “Sorry.”

  Thank you ever so much for your hospitality, dear Maggie. Your kindness will not soon be forgotten.