Blood for Wolves Read online

  “You’re nervous.”

  “Um,” I licked my lips and I could have sworn his eyes went gold for a second. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you nervous.” He looked genuinely apologetic. He began to smooth my hair as if that were supposed to calm me. The weird thing was that it sort of worked. The way he stared at me made me feel as though I was supposed to do something, but I had no idea what.

  He inhaled again. “You smell wonderful.”

  “Thank you,” I said, very carefully trying to remove myself from his grasp. He didn’t budge. “Can I go, please?”

  “Why?” He brought his head down to my neck again. “You should stay here with me.” His lips brushed over my skin and a bizarre mix of excitement and alarm rolled through me. If this were any other situation, he’d be sexy as hell. Too bad this wasn’t any other situation. “You can feel it, can’t you?” He pressed my hand to his chest more firmly.

  “Um,” was all I got out.

  He suddenly pulled back. “You’re not with that girl, are you?” Annoyance crossed his features. “I’m tired of chasing her.”

  Once again I had no clue what he was talking about.

  He made a dismissive motion. “Forget about her.” Then he smiled and I found myself staring at his canines again.

  “I realize this is probably quite unexpected for you as a human, but you can trust me. A wolf knows.” He paused. “I’m not explaining this very well, am I? Again, my apologies. It’s just…I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find you.”

  He’d begun to slide his hand up my freshly shaven leg, quickly reaching my khaki shorts and slipping his fingers underneath the edge. He’d shifted his stance in doing so, and I saw a clear opening for escape.

  “I very much look forward to getting to know you, my heart.”

  I slammed my knee into his groin, yelling and pushing him off me as he buckled. I scrabbled at the table, climbing over it and trying to get my bearings. Where the hell did the door go? Or better yet, where was the knife?

  “I suppose I deserved that,” he groaned from the ground. “Awful of me to forget how skittish humans are around wolves. I thought you might be different, not being from the Kingdom.”

  He was too close to the front door and already getting up. I didn’t see the knife anywhere. I bolted for the back rooms of the cottage.

  “I admit,” he called from the front, “I shouldn’t have pushed you, but if you would just be willing to come back here and talk with me, we can sort all this out.”

  No way buddy. All that the rooms had to offer were the old, circle windows. Dust coated the glass, and they looked barely big enough for me to… I snatched up an old chair just as he strode into the room. He held himself up, smoothing his coat with his hands.

  “Now, if you’ll just allow me to introduce myself, we can begin our courtship properly.”

  I smashed the chair into his chest, knocking him out of the room and breaking the chair into pieces. I held onto one of the legs and made for the window. It only took a single swing to shatter the glass. I pulled the small wooden cross pieces out of the hole and began squashing my way through the opening. A few small glass shards still in the frame scratched at me, tearing through my clothes. Pain bloomed where they cut my arms and legs.

  “Will you stop? You’re writhing around on glass for goodness sakes.”

  I screamed as his fingertips touched my ankle. I kicked back as hard as I could, felt my heel connect with something, and then I was free. I crashed onto the leaf-laden ground. In a moment I was up again, running as fast as I’d ever run through the forest, not paying attention to the direction or the cuts on my body. Thank God for tread machines and motivation. I could at least get a mile or two away from the cottage before the demented wolfy guy got his bearings again. That last kick had been pretty damned hard.

  But I’d only gone half a mile when I slid to a stop in a gully. What about the girl? He was trying to kill her, too. Where had she gone? I couldn’t just let him find her and kill her. I tried to slow down my breathing, running a hand through my damp hair. Finally I doubled over to rest my hands on my knees, trying to calm down as much as possible. I’d escaped, I was alive. Fuck. I really wished I had my radio. I didn’t even have my daypack anymore. I put my hands to my face and breathed deeply. I do not smell like wolves…

  Chapter 2

  “Psst.”

  I jerked upright, looking around in a panic.

  “Down here.”

  The voice was soft, scared. I relaxed when I realized it was the little girl’s. I searched for the origin of her voice and found her hiding in a hollowed out log. I let out a long sigh.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded and sniffed, still teary-eyed.

  “He didn’t hurt you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Will you come out? I think I beat him up pretty good back there.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she crawled out of the log. I couldn’t believe how clean her dress was even after shuffling through a rotted out log. An image of bluebells popped into my mind.

  “Is he gone for good?” she asked.

  I put my hand on her head. “No honey, I don’t think he is. We need to get out of the woods and call the police on him.”

  “We can’t get out of the woods. The forest is everywhere.”

  “No it’s not sweetie. All forests end somewhere.”

  This didn’t seem to register with her, though she said, “Oh.” Then she paused. “What are police?”

  What kind of question was that? She had to be at least eight years old, certainly her parents had told her about the safety of police. I took her hand and together we started walking.

  “Police are the men in blue uniforms that help people. Haven’t you ever seen them?”

  “I’ve seen the men in black uniforms, but they’re kind of mean.”

  “Well, sometimes police do wear black uniforms, but they still help people. Do you really not know any of this?”

  She shook her head again, her golden curls bouncing.

  I let out a long breath. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of here and call someone and tell them where that man is so he can get arrested.”

  “He’s not a man.”

  “Yes he is. He just thinks he’s a wolf. He’s sick in the head, honey.”

  “No, he’s a wolf.”

  Fine. Whatever. I wasn’t going to argue with her. I was too tired. I’d woken up at 4 am, sat in the dew and the dark for two hours, then waited another three for Isabeau to finally get her cubs out of the den. I was damp, I’d fought off a wacko, and now I had mean little cuts all over from the window and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the girl.

  “Marianne Greta Gertrude West. What’s yours?”

  “Caroline McKenna.”

  “Just two names?”

  I laughed. “Yes, just two. My parents never gave me a middle name.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I think they couldn’t decide on one.”

  “That’s sad.” She kicked at a small pile of leaves.

  “Why is that sad? It’s just a name.”

  “More names are better.”

  “Ah,” I said, grinning, “I see.”

  We trekked on for a while. I wasn’t familiar with the terrain, but I knew that if we kept heading due-north we’d bump into a trail. There weren’t many roads in the backcountry of Wyoming, but there were a healthy amount of trails. I knew how far the trail I’d used was, and several more intersected with it after cutting a path in the north. Going the other way would be too dangerous, what with insane wolf-man behind us. I wondered if he was conscious yet. Probably. I hoped I’d at least broken his nose or something.

  “I’m not sure this is the right way,” Marianne said after a few hours.

  “It is, don’t worry. I may not have my compass, but I know where the trails are.
We should bump into one any time. Then we can follow that out.” I wasn’t worried about shelter. It was a warm spring season, and the campsites filled up fast in this part of the wilderness. We could meet up with some campers and share a tent and then hike out with them. If anyone saw our would-be killer, a little bear spray would sure as hell do the trick.

  “No,” Marianne persisted, sounding more frightened now. “I don’t think it is.”

  “It’s okay.” I patted her hand. “I’ve done a lot of work out here in the field; I know how to take care of us. Trust me.”

  I decided maybe if I got her talking she might calm down. Kids tended to forget their worries when they got on a chatting spree. That and I might find out more about her and how she ended up lost.

  “I like your dress, Marianne.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.

  “It makes me think of bluebells.”

  “That’s what everyone says. But it’s not my dress, it’s me.”

  “You?”

  She nodded emphatically. “It’s because I was born in a fairy ring.”

  I played along. “Really? Does that make you special?”

  “I don’t know.” She pondered the thought. “Maybe that’s why the wolves all want to eat me.”

  Great. Now we were back to the wolves again.

  “Wolves aren’t all that dangerous,” I told her.

  She made a face. “Yes they are.”

  I tried not to let my frustration show. Who kept telling kids that crap? Probably from all those stupid bedtime stories where wolves ate up grandmothers and little girls.

  “You know,” I said, “when I was a little girl a wolf once saved my life.”

  “Really?” Then she wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

  “She saw that I was in trouble, so she helped me.” I left out why I was in trouble. Why I’d been out in the woods alone. Forgotten. I shoved the memory to the back of my mind.

  Marianne didn’t say anything. My words seemed to have brought up a lot of confusion. After a long time, she finally spoke again.

  “A wolf killed my sister.” She said it quietly, in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Shit. That was it. I immediately stopped walking.

  “Marianne,” I knelt in front of her and held her shoulders. “I am so sorry.”

  “I never saw it,” she continued, “but I heard them talking. They said she was ripped to pieces.”

  I had absolutely no idea what to say. So I hugged her. Now I wasn’t so sure of what she meant. Did a real wolf kill her sister? Or was wolf the proxy of a murderer, an illusion she’d built up in her mind to handle the pain of losing a sister? Then another thought hit me. Was the crazy guy the same person that killed her sister?

  “When did it happen?” I asked.

  “Three full moons ago. I think that’s why everyone wanted to move me. They were afraid the wolves would get me next.”

  I smoothed her hair. “Well don’t you worry. I’m not letting any wolves get you. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  The ground soon became rocky and the trees thinned. Eventually, the trees disappeared altogether and we hiked through boulder fields, mountains reaching up on either side. I held Marianne’s hand a little tighter. I didn’t know these mountains, and I knew my mountains. These were completely unfamiliar, as was the boulder field. I couldn’t panic though. I didn’t want to scare Marianne. But I didn’t remember going up. We were above tree line somehow, or out of it. The ground sloped more, but not by much. Where the hell was this?

  Marianne whimpered. “I don’t like it here. I thought that giants lived here.”

  Giants? Maybe her issues reached farther than I thought. “Who told you that?”

  “My parents. All the people of the village say that giants live in the mountains.”

  “Marianne, it’s okay. There aren’t any—”

  A low vibration rolled under my feet. I stopped. Marianne whimpered again and grabbed at my waist, hugging me close. Don’t be stupid Caroline. Probably just a falling boulder.

  “It’s okay,” I said, trying to pry her off me. “You’re safe with me.”

  The entire area suddenly shook violently, boulders and rocks breaking loose and crashing down the mountainside. I crouched low and put my arms around Marianne.

  “Hmm.”

  A deep voice reverberated through the air. I looked up to find the source, and my mouth fell open in utter shock. Men—huge men—emerged from behind vast boulder piles and out of massive caves. They had to be at least twenty feet tall, each one of them. Their legs and arms were thick, covered in animal skins sewn together with sinewy ties. One of them actually had a club slung over his shoulder. They advanced on us, each step rocking the mountains and then ground.

  “What is this? Little villagers trespassing on our mountains?” one of them said.

  Giants. Real giants. Where the hell was I? What the hell was this? It was all I could do to hold onto Marianne and not fall over from the shaking or start laughing because I’d actually drowned in that pond and someone had found me and this was some sort of screwed up coma dream. Marianne cried softly against my chest, her little fingers twining in my hair.

  “Uh….” I cleared my throat and stood, picking Marianne up. I had to leave. I needed to leave. This was not Wyoming. This was not normal. “We’re…. We were lost. Sorry. We didn’t mean to trespass. We can just go. It’s okay.” I was saying that a lot. It most certainly was not okay. This was so far from okay it was ridiculous.

  I started walking backward, keeping the giants—all five of them—in my sights. They seemed amused, and not in a good way.

  “Once a trespasser trespasses, there is no returning,” the one with the club said.

  “True, true,” said another. “One cannot simply un-trespass by leaving.”

  “Yes they can,” I blurted out. I felt like I was losing my mind. “If I’m on the land, I’m trespassing. If I’m off the land, I’m not trespassing. See, I have to be on it to trespass.”

  They pondered this, looking at one another. Good enough. I kept edging back, but the tree line was still horrendously far away.

  “We don’t agree,” the one with the club said finally. “But you’re still here, so you’re still trespassing. It’s time we took care of you.”

  I turned and ran as best I could, carrying Marianne with me. But two violent shakes of the ground toppled the both of us. A club slammed into the ground, blocking the trees from sight. Marianne screamed as one of the giants picked her up.

  “Let go of her!” I shouted, picking up rocks and throwing them at the giants’ faces. They failed to reach their targets, and the giants laughed. My eardrums rang painfully. I spotted a sharp branch lying on the ground and grabbed it. I charged at the giant holding Marianne, driving the branch into his leg as deep as it could go. The giant howled, and I let go of the branch to clap my hands over my ears. He kicked his leg to dislodge the bough, and the edge of his foot caught my shoulder to send me sprawling. My head struck a boulder, sending little black stars to dance in my eyes. Something warm trickled down the side of my face, and the world went dark.

  When I awoke my head was pounding. First I thought it was due to the cut on my head. Then I thought it was more likely a combination of that and being hung upside down. It took me a few minutes to adjust, trying to figure out where the hell I was as bits and pieces of the day’s events filtered back into my brain.

  I wasn’t in Wyoming anymore. That was for damn sure. I was in a cave, or inside somewhere. The walls looked like rock. A big fire burned brightly in the center. The flames warmed my front; ropes tied my hands to my feet, and my feet to something in the ceiling. I grunted and tried to swing around. No good. The movement only served to make my head swim a little. My breath started to come in short little gasps.

  Okay. Okay. Don’t panic. Focus. What had they done to Marianne? And what were they going to do to me next? I’d gone from being under the knife by a man claiming to be a ha
lf-wolf to hanging in a giant’s larder. The thought made me pause. Man claiming to be a half-wolf? I’d just run into giants and Marianne kept insisting the man was a wolf. Damn.

  “Where the hell am I?”

  I screamed it, but no one answered. No one came. I shut my eyes for a moment. My head swam. Something had happened. Something—the pond. Marianne had jumped into the pond after saying there were wolves “here” too. Had she meant Wyoming? The woods there? I’d followed after her and ended up…where?

  “Hey! HEY! Someone! HELP!”

  Nothing. I groaned. My head throbbed. A small pool of blood had formed beneath me. Or was it dripping into a bowl? I squirmed around again, but the ropes held tight. How soon before the giants came back? Was this a Jack and the Beanstalk sort of deal? Were they going to eat me and grind my bones for bread?

  I stared at the glowing embers in the fire. The whole situation was just too unreal for me to even cry about. There was no way this could be happening.

  Scuffling noises came from the cave opening somewhere to my right. I could still see some of the sunlight sifting in through the mouth. A giant was back. I was about to get eaten. My heart pounded away like a terrified bird trapped in a cage. Except…for a giant, he wasn’t making things shake very much. I heard something that sounded like panting and muffled growly noises. Hooray! Saved by a badger. I snickered to myself. That’s right Caroline, lose your mind. That’ll make it much easier on you when the giants flay you.

  The man from the cottage suddenly jumped into the cave.

  “There you are my love.”

  “Oh my God,” I couldn’t help but say aloud. “My life has just gone from bad to worse.”

  “Don’t say that, lovely little thing. I’m here to help. Trust me why don’t you? Or don’t you trust me because I’m half-wolf? An awful thing it is, the way people hate us wolves. Unjust and unfair.”

  I was tied up and about to die anyway. What did I have to lose? “Maybe if you didn’t try to kill little girls and rape women and eat all the pieces, people wouldn’t be on your case so much.”