Hunter's Trail - Page 104/113

His words were drowned out by the sound of Scarlett screaming behind him.

Chapter 46

I stood just before the drop-off to the bridle trail, listening as hard as I could for sounds from below. I wanted to yell down to Jesse, make sure he was okay, but I was afraid to spook the nova wolf—or the bargest. What if I yelled at a crucial moment and distracted one of them? If Jesse was actually in danger, there’d be more noise, wouldn’t there?

I was focused entirely on the bridle path area, feeling useless, with fear tightening the knots in my stomach. Then I suddenly realized that I was alone, and exposed, and injured, in the dark. It seemed as though Kirsten’s Humans-Go-Home spell had turned the area into an isolated bubble, with just the nova wolf, Jesse, and me.

I heard a tiny noise behind me. I couldn’t even identify it, it was so soft. A branch breaking? A scuffle in the dirt? But I turned around slowly, flashlight beam bouncing around the clearing. There was nothing there. In the distance, I saw car lights coming down from the Observatory, people leaving for the night, and I told myself I’d just heard a car sound.

And yet . . . something felt wrong. I moved the flashlight beam through the clearing one more time, intending to turn around and yell for Jesse when I was sure it was okay. On the second pass, though, I saw a bright flash of something under one of the picnic tables. Twin glowing spots, menacing in the shadows.

Eye shine. Like you see in wolves.

I kept the flashlight moving, trying to hide my discovery, but it was too late. The werewolf crept out from under the table, growling. It started to advance on me.

It was clearly expecting me to try to run, probably figuring I’d be easy prey with the cane. It looked momentarily confused, however, when I started limping straight for it. That confusion, of course, was increased exponentially when I finally took the last step needed to get it in my radius.

I’ve changed werewolves before, and they each react a little differently. Some, like Will, roll with the change. Some freeze, some even start shaking from the sudden absence of magic. The wolf in front of me, however, simply dropped, like a rock in a pond. I hurried closer, wanting to keep him in range, and stopped when I was four feet away, keeping the flashlight beam on the werewolf.

It was a him; that was obvious. He was naked, curled in the fetal position, shock on his face. I limped a couple of steps sideways so I could see his face—it was Henry Remus.

But if Remus was here . . . I opened my mouth to yell at Jesse, but something must have clicked in Remus’s brain, because suddenly he had scrambled to his feet and was diving for me with mad fury on his face. He moved like humans never do: not trying to catch himself or keep his balance, not adjusting his movement for the moment we inevitably collided. He simply hurled himself at me, clumsy and desperate.

Under normal circumstances I could have dodged him easily, but even when I ignored the pain in my knee, I couldn’t move fast enough. I stumbled backward and tripped on the leg of a nearby picnic table, starting my own fall even as Henry Remus barreled into me.

We hit the ground hard, and the back of my head rammed the packed dirt like I was trying to dig a frickin’ hole with it. It wasn’t exactly the same spot where I’d struck my head two weeks earlier, but it was damn close, and nausea and dizziness were suddenly tugging at my attention like impatient toddlers. My cane slid away in the dirt.

On top of me, Henry Remus had recovered and leaned upright, his foul breath on my face. “You again,” he hissed from inches away. “What are you?” My flashlight had skittered away when we collided, but it pointed more or less toward my feet.

I really wanted to come out with something like “your worst nightmare,” but I was busy remembering where my limbs were. Remus pushed himself off the ground and straddled me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking them. “What . . . are . . . you?” he whispered.

Instead of answering, I opened my mouth and screamed. It wasn’t tactical or anything. It was just that I was so scrambled by vertigo that it was the only sound I felt capable of producing. I drew breath to scream again, and Henry Remus leaned down on me, his grimy hand smothering my mouth, his elbows touching the ground as he rested his naked weight on my upper body. I struggled then, but I might as well have been pushing against a downpour of rain. Finally I wrenched my mouth open just enough to bite down on the skin of his hand as hard as I could. It tasted horrible, but it worked.

“Ow!” Remus cried, sitting up without getting off me, cradling his hand to his chest. He gave me a wounded look. “Why did you do that?”

“Seriously?” I panted, sucking in air. I wiped at my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Ick.

There were footsteps behind me, and suddenly I heard the glorious sound of Jesse’s gun as he took the safety off. “Police,” Jesse said, his voice scary-calm. He began circling around us, trying to position himself to see my face. “Get off of her.”

“What?” Remus said, looking suddenly baffled. He didn’t move. “Why are you guys doing this to me?”

Jesse was close enough to see me now, and even in the darkness he and I exchanged a confused look. “Are you . . . whining at us?” Jesse said in disbelief.

Remus’s face twitched distractedly. “I’m trying to do something great here,” he protested. “Why can’t you people see that?” He turned his head to glare down at me. “And you . . . why are you taking him away from me?”

“Taking who?” I asked, confused.