Kitty's House of Horrors
Page 35

“The power’s gone out, Provost has vanished, and—and part of the crew’s been murdered. The airplane’s sabotaged. We’re isolated here. Worst-case scenario—”
“Conspiracy,” she said. “Someone wishing to get at me would do very well to strike at Dorian. I always kept him close because of that. Do you understand?”
We could all probably agree that some conspiracy was afoot. But it was amazing how different such a conspiracy could look depending on your perspective.
“You think this is all about you?” I said.
“I think someone may be taking advantage of an opportunity, yes. Your magician friend, for instance. He’s taking charge, isn’t he? He’s guiding the actions of the group now.”
I shook my head. “I know him. He doesn’t work like that.”
“Do you know him, really?”
And I couldn’t say that I did.
She turned to look at Gemma again and said, “If you could please leave us alone. We’ll be up at nightfall, as usual. There’s nothing I can do until then.” I turned to leave, when she called. “Kitty. Come nightfall, we’ll have to face the issue of sustenance.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“It doesn’t have to be difficult.”
I couldn’t think about it. We’d have to cross that bridge tonight. “Yeah. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
She was still sitting at the edge of the bed, unmoving, when I went back upstairs.
I got back to the living room the same time Grant and Jerome did.
“We checked on the generator and batteries,” Jerome said. “The fuel’s been drained and the wiring cut.”
“Someone should go for help. Didn’t someone say that?” Jeffrey said.
The sooner the better, in my opinion. I said, “Jerome and I can travel fast. We won’t have to stop.”
Jerome said, “If we shifted—”
I shook my head. “We need to be conscious and able to speak when we get there. This may be slower, but it’ll be fast enough. If we leave now, we can be there by dusk.”
“But it’s thirty miles!” Conrad said. “That’s impossible.”
“They’re werewolves,” Lee said. “It’s not impossible. I wish we were on the coast. I feel useless here.”
“Just keep your eyes open,” I said. “Use your nose. You can be lookout.”
“We should get going,” Jerome said, already at the door. I went to join him. Hesitating a moment, I took off my shoes and socks. Jerome was already barefoot.
Grant studied me. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
I smiled thinly. “This is simple. We run to the next lodge and call for help. With any luck we’ll be back here by morning.”
“It’s a plan, then,” he said. “Be careful.”
“Likewise.”
We went outside. I could feel the others gathering by the window, watching us. The wreckage of the porch railing still lay scattered on the ground, along with the stain where Dorian’s blood had soaked into the ground. It smelled ripe and rotten in the morning sun, and a few flies buzzed over it. Apart from that, the area was still, quiet.
Jerome wasn’t close to shifting, but something wolfish looked out of his eyes. His breaths came slow and deep, and his attention turned outward, far outward, searching the farthest range of sight and hearing for danger. I knew how he felt—I wanted to get away from here, to run off some of this anxiety.
“You ready to do this?” I said.
“Yeah. You think you can keep up with me?”
“Probably not. But I don’t think anyone should be alone right now.”
His expression turned wry. “You might convince me to start liking this pack thing.”
“I told you, it’s all about having someone watch your back.”
He pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it to the porch. His body was sleek, molded with well-defined, powerful muscles under smooth, dark skin. The guy worked out, but more than that, his body rippled with power. His muscles were natural, hard-earned, and he knew how to use them. He rolled his shoulders, flexed for a moment, then set off, from stop to run.
I bounced, testing my feet against the gravel, feeling earth under me and air around me. Then I set off after him. We took the hiking trail that led from the lodge and to wilderness—thirty miles to the next bit of civilization.
Chapter 12
The Wolf had strength, agility, and stamina that the human side didn’t. The Wolf could run all night when she Changed under a full moon. I wasn’t as strong as that right now, but I didn’t stumble when a normal human would have. My lungs didn’t sear with hard breathing, I didn’t fall over after a mile. I found a rhythm, and my muscles flowed. My strides were long, steady, smooth, and my breath came easily. Letting the animal side fill me, I could keep this up for hours.
I became as much Wolf as I could without shifting entirely. If someone had spoken to me then, I wouldn’t have been able to answer. I’d have had to pull myself back from that edge first.
Jerome was stronger and faster than I. He pulled ahead, but only by a few strides, then adjusted so that he could see me by looking over his shoulder. We kept to the edge of the trail; the ground was softer and trees offered some shade. We probably couldn’t continue this all day, but we could slow to a trot during the heat of the afternoon, pick up the pace again after resting, and still make good time. My vision collapsed, focused on the way ahead of me, while my other senses expanded. I tasted the air, which was filled with scents of pine sap, insects, heat; and sounds roared around me—wind in trees, birdsong, our steps padding on the road.
I was still in that zone when Jerome pulled up suddenly, backpedaling to get away from something ahead. I nearly collided with him, but stopped myself and knelt. He also ducked to a defensive crouch and stared ahead, as if making a challenge. I took a breath through flaring nostrils, and smelled something out of place, metallic.
Crossing the trail a few yards ahead of us, a shiny object. I focused on it as a human rather than a wolf.
“Is that what it looks like?” Jerome said.
It looked like three coils of razor wire strung on hastily planted steel T-bar fence posts. Like someone had tried to rope in a prison in a hurry. I crept closer for a better look. The stuff was so shiny it gleamed, even in the shaded forest.