Red

by Kait Nolan

  “What exactly is your plan, Elodie?” he challenged. “Run? Hope the hunter follows? Where? For how long?”

  “I will draw him away from here. From you. I’ve been ready for this for a while.” I gave a bitter smile. “You did teach me to always be prepared. You know exactly how long I’m capable of surviving in the mountains. You trained me, after all.”

  “And then what? Play some game of cat and mouse with this guy and hope he doesn’t win?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “The important thing is getting him away from here. What happens after that is between him and me. But I have no child. So one way or the other, this entire nightmare ends with me.”

  Naturally the fight didn’t end with that dramatic pronouncement.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”

  “This is ridiculous. It’s a foolish plan. You have no way of knowing that the hunter will follow you, no way of knowing he’ll disappear if you do. You don’t even know if you’re right.”

  “You didn’t know if it was right when you dragged me here and made me give up my life, but you were willing to take the chance. So am I.”

  “And what exactly am I supposed to say about you to people who ask? You can’t just disappear with no consequences. People will come looking.”

  “Not if you tell them I’ve gone to see family. Grandparents or something. People don’t really know us here. If you tell them I’ve gone to stay with my grandfather for the rest of the summer, no one will question you. They don’t know grandpa died two years ago.”

  He looked infuriated that I had a practical response to that.

  “What if you’re wrong? Are you just going to stay in the mountains for weeks, waiting? At what point do you decide it’s safe to come home?”

  I felt my face spasm. “We both know it won’t be safe for me to come home. Whether the hunter finds me or not, I’m on the verge of shifting. It won’t be safe for me to be around you or anyone else once I do. Better for me to be in the wild where I’m less likely to hurt someone.”

  This was not, in fact, my plan. I had no delusions that I would be able to live in the wild, even in uninhabited areas, as some happy little lone wolf. None of my ancestors had survived long enough to confirm whether their humanity, their ability to reason, would stay intact for long after the shift. I was prepared to end it before it got to that point.

  I hoped.

  He stared at me in apparent anguish. This was more emotion than I’d seen him display in years. “Do you honestly think I’m just going to let you walk away? You’re my child.”

  “I may be yours, but I haven’t been a child for years. This is the responsible decision. You wanting me to do otherwise is selfish.”

  “Selfish?” he choked out.

  “You’d rather make me stay and risk unleashing me on the world. Yeah, I say that’s selfish.”

  We went on that way for a while longer. I didn’t manage to wear him down, which is unsurprising. No parent is going to be willing to let their kid deliberately walk out to face death. Or worse.

  I was losing patience and the light, so when he got in my face again to reiterate his point, I twisted my hand in his shirt, lifted him off his feet, and thumped him against the wall.

  Increased strength. Check.

  “You aren’t going to stop me,” I snarled.

  Using what I was to press the advantage against him left a sick taste in my mouth.

  The look of stunned betrayal on his face seared me to the bone. As if even after everything he’d seen, he hadn’t truly believed that I was turning.

  I let him slide down to the floor. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

  This time when I turned to go, to pack, he didn’t come after me.

  Even the long day of summer had worn away by the time I stepped out the back door. The sky was dark, pinpricks of light studding the sky. Not ideal conditions, but I could find my way even in this. As I crossed the yard, I half expected Dad to tranq me in a last desperate move to stop me. But I made it into the woods unscathed.

  A small part of me wept at that.

  The temptation to take the direct route to the cave was strong. It was only about four miles as the crow flew. I was tired. Bone deep exhausted, both from the work I’d done that day and from the fight. But laying a direct path to my hideaway would be foolish. Dad might try to come after me. He might alert Search and Rescue to find and bring me back. And I didn’t know if the hunter had actual tracking skills, but it made sense to try to confuse him too. Since the last search, I’d taken some time to learn something about muddying scent trails. That should confuse things well enough to give me at least a couple of days to figure out a more solid plan.

  Miles to go before I sleep, I thought.

  I didn’t look back at the house. What was the point? Goodbyes? Regrets? I’d had enough of both. It wouldn’t change anything. I was well and truly alone now.

  ~*~

  Elodie

  My pack officially weighed eight hundred pounds. That’s what it felt like at least. I leaned back against a boulder, letting it take the weight from my shoulders for a bit as I rested, taking a swig from my water bottle. I’d lost track of how far I’d hiked and how long. I’d been moving for hours, laying trails, crossing them, erasing them. I’d taken to the river three times, hiking in bare feet. Note to self: newly acquired werewolf powers did not include impenetrable soles of human feet.

  Part of me kept moving in an effort to escape the bruise that had been spreading through my chest since this afternoon. That attempt was an epic fail. Physical pain didn’t distract from emotional pain. Not when the emotional was so much bigger.

  The moon had passed its apex and was on its descent for the night, and that meant it was time to go to ground. I considered just pulling out my sleeping bag and setting up a minimal camp right where I was. But it was too exposed for my taste, and I really wasn’t in the mood to string my supplies up to prevent bears from messing with them. It was only a couple more miles to the cave from here. Once I made it in, I’d set up my camp and sleep all day tomorrow if I wanted. It might take that long to recover from the day I’d had. And let’s face it. I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since the change started.

  Sleep. Right. I was ready to get right on that. I tipped my back, resting against my pack and my eyes closed against the monochrome world of night. I’d stand up again in a minute.

  I didn’t want to stand up. I didn’t want to keep walking. I just wanted to sit down and bawl my eyes out. Because that was such a practical response to the fact that I’d gotten exactly five minutes of life before having it ripped away in the worst possible way I could imagine. Okay, nobody died or got shot. Second worst.

  I thought it would be worth it to kiss Sawyer. To have that memory to take out and look at, like a secret treasure. But God, God, it was so much worse. To feel that much, to know what I was leaving behind. And, thanks to Dad, to have been denied my proper goodbye. Not that I’d been planning on telling him the truth exactly. Before my father showed up, I hadn’t expected to be leaving so soon. I’d thought I had more time.

  But that was the theme of this summer, wasn’t it? Every moment was borrowed. And each one had a higher price than the last.

  Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was smoking crack. This sucked. Maybe if there was a chance of living until I was old and gray, when I could look back from the distance of years with some kind of rose colored glasses, it would be true. But that wasn’t in the cards. So now I just got the pain. Great.

  I really needed to get going. Time was wasting, and I was totally exhausted. How many miles had I hiked? Twelve? Fifteen? I felt like somebody was sneaking bricks into my pack with every step. Okay there was nobody out here left to lie to, so if I was really honest with myself, I was weighed down by way more than gear.

  I’d felt alone for years. In so many ways,
it felt like Dad checked out once the letter came, once we changed our life. Regardless of what he said, I was a duty more than a daughter. But I hadn’t truly known what alone meant. Not really.

  Was this what Mom felt like when she disappeared? Had she planned to escape to protect us and then been crushed under the weight of the reality? Unable to cope? From the stories Dad used to tell, Mom was vivacious. A real social butterfly. She was used to being the center of attention, so the prospect of doing . . . well, exactly what I was doing now, would have been really hard for her to bear.

  I wanted to think I was stronger than that. Or at least better prepared.

  But what if I wasn’t? What if I found myself in exactly the same position where the knife started to look like a more attractive option? And if this was even crossing my mind now, when I’d only been gone a matter of hours, what would I be like in a few days or weeks?

  The snapping of a twig had my eyes flying open. I twisted my head, listening hard, trying to isolate the sound. Was it near? Far? Predator or prey? My hand curved around the hilt of the knife I wore on my belt. The same knife I’d used for my trial. Not among my top ten choices for ways to off myself, but practical from a survival standpoint. Of course I’d more had it in mind for carving spears for fishing and cutting branches, not fighting off a bear or something.

  I didn’t move from the boulder. It protected my back. But I slowly swiveled my head to either side, scanning the surrounding woods. Yet I saw nothing. Damn it, I couldn’t hear for the pulse beating thick in my ears. What use was this stupid hearing if I couldn’t control it?

  Something fell on my shoulder from above. I went rigid, hardly daring to breathe. No way was I lucky enough that that had been a bug. Something was on the boulder above me. Because it was the only thing I could semi-reliably control, I widened my nostrils and inhaled, sifting through the scents. But the wind was blowing straight toward me. No help there. I was going to have to look.

  Degree by painstaking degree, I tipped my head back.

  My wolf stood above me, pale fur shining in the moonlight. I have no idea why I thought of him as mine. He obviously wasn’t a pet. But it was the same wolf who’d saved me last night. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.

  My breath whooshed out in relief. I stepped away from the boulder and turned, staggering a bit under the weight of the pack.

  “Way to scare a girl,” I said. I was pathetically glad to see him, grateful for a familiar face, even a furry one.

  He leapt down, huffing on the landing. I winced for him as his right flank buckled under the weight.

  I started toward him, intending to check last night’s wound, but he bared his teeth in warning, so I stopped short, raising my hands in surrender. Okay, good reminder that he was a wild animal and wasn’t going to submit to my attentions outside extreme circumstances. I would almost swear he gritted his teeth as he forced himself to stand again.

  “Stubborn aren’t you? Well you’re in good company.”

  He blinked at me.

  “So what are you doing here? Is there something horrible in the woods? Something else for you to save me from?” I looked around, tuning the rest of my senses into the night. I heard the soft flutter of an owl and the tiny scream of something that became its dinner. I smelled something I thought was a possum. But mostly the area was empty. No bears. No hunter.

  “Or maybe you’re just here to keep me company.” I took a few steps and he followed. “Thanks for that. It’s been a long night. Long day, too.”

  He gave me a look that seemed to ask why the hell I was still up and out here at all. I don’t really know why I felt compelled to answer. “Long story. I had to confuse my trail. I’m heading for camp now.”

  I was too tired to keep up a stream of nervous chatter like I did last night. If he was going to come, he was going to come, whether I babbled on or not. It’s not like I owed him some kind of explanation for why I was out here. Either way, there was no way I was going to be able to stay vertical too much longer. The wolf fell in beside me with just a slight limp.

  We were moving slow, so it took nearly an hour before we crested the ridge into the hollow. I was so happy to see the brush screen over my cave, I nearly wept with relief. My legs felt like jelly as I stumbled down the rise. I hauled the screen aside. While I dug out a flashlight, the wolf went on in. Apparently he was all about making himself at home in my space.

  I switched the flashlight on, squinting at the sudden glare. Once my eyes adjusted, I hunched and went inside. With the extra height of my pack, I had to stoop at an awkward angle for the first dozen feet or so. Then the space opened up. I played my light over the ceiling and walls. Nothing seemed to have made its way inside in the last couple of days. Thank God. The last thing I wanted was a startled bat dive bombing my head.

  I shrugged out of my pack, groaning in relief. “Oh, thank you, God.” My flashlight caught the white flash of fur from the back. My friend seemed to be circling around, looking for a comfortable spot at the rear of the cave. There was a sort of alcove back there, partially blocked off from what I thought of as the supply area. It’s where I had planned to lay out my sleeping bag. Well I guessed he was gonna be staying a while. That was probably a good thing. As tired as I was, I wouldn’t be on as high alert as I should be.

  Out of long ingrained habit, I unpacked, stacking and organizing supplies, setting up camp, though it was only a couple of hours until sunrise. That’s when I saw the other pack leaning against the cave wall.

  Unease trickled through me. Playing the light around it, I saw other gear. More water. More foodstuffs. Another set of cookware. A sleeping bag.

  “What the fuck?” I scrambled over, my hands fumbling to open the pack, searching for some kind of identifier. But I already knew what I would find. “No, no, no. This isn’t mine.”

  My location had been compromised. It was no longer secret. No longer safe. I had to go.

  “It’s mine.”

  I whirled, dropping the flashlight. “Fuck!” I dove for it, my hand closing around the shaft, already testing the weight for a weapon as I snapped the beam up and toward the back. It lit on hands fastening the button on a pair of low-riding jeans. I drew the knife with my free hand, rolling into a defensive crouch. The light slid up a bare, muscular chest before moving up to land on a squinting face.

  Sawyer.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  It was a dream. I was asleep on my feet and hallucinating. It was a product of exhaustion and desperate longing. A cruel trick of my brain. Because there was no way that Sawyer was standing at the back of my cave. Except that he looked pissed in that way only Sawyer could manage, with rage practically seething beneath his skin. Really shouldn’t my fantasy be glad to see me?

  “I’ll take that,” said Sawyer, striding over and plucking the knife from my hand. “You clearly can’t be trusted with it.” He flung it, without looking, directly into a twenty pound bag of rice.

  I stared at my empty knife hand, feeling the tingling fingers, and I flashed back to that day in the clearing. Except now that fury was directed at me. Sawyer advanced, mouth curled into a snarl. “You lied to me.”

  Automatically I retreated a step. “Excuse me?”

  “You had every intention of using that goddamned knife. For no fucking reason!”

  My own temper sliced through exhaustion. “You don’t know anything about my life.”

  “You don’t know anything about your own life. You’ve been so stupid. I can’t believe how fucking stupid—”

  I felt a burst of adrenaline through the anger, felt the rising within me, and I backed away from him in a hurry as a growl began to vibrate in my chest. “Sawyer, you have to go, “ I managed. “Just shut up and go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. You’re running around thinking you’re going to be turning into some kind of slavering monster and have to be put down like a fucking dog.”

  Shock knocked me back another step. “How . . . ho
w do you know that?”

  “I heard you talking to your dad, and you’re both, like, completely insane.”

  I was pressed against the rough cave wall now. Nowhere to go. Nowhere else to escape as he kept coming toward me. Where was the wolf?

  “Look, you shouldn’t have heard that. You really need to go.” I closed my eyes because I knew they must be glowing and I couldn’t bear to see him look at me with the same revulsion my father had.

  My body was trembling with the effort to hold back the reaction.

  “Elodie, you need to look at me.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You need to go.”

  Sawyer stepped into me, caging me with his arms against the cave wall. I could feel the heat of his chest just inches away.

  “Elodie, look at me.” His tone had softened, no longer angry.

  I felt tears burn down my cheeks and shrank back as far as I could against the stone. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered.

  His hand brushed the tear from my cheek, then tipped my face up. “Look.”

  I opened my eyes and looked into his. The same bright, glowing gold as my own.

  Chapter 10

  Elodie

  It was a trick of the light. My eyes were somehow reflecting in the dark of his. Or I was straight up hallucinating, whether from exhaustion or hereditary madness, it really didn’t matter. I was seeing what I wanted to see, not truth. My mind was clearly a cruel and masochistic place.

  I tried to turn my face away. It isn’t real. None of this is real.

  And then his other hand was there, framing my face, wiping more tears.

  “Elodie.” His soothing voice didn’t work this time. “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? I’m like you.”

  “You’re not. You don’t know—”

  “I do know,” he insisted. “I am a werewolf. From a very long family line of werewolves. I know exactly what you’re going through.” His voice had a calm, patient, talk the crazy person off a ledge tone.