Page 73 of Teeth To Rip & Tear

Did the Huntsman know I’d stolen the journal?

I hadn’t even bothered to read it, too frightened that Donovan would come to my room or that the Huntsman would somehow know I’d taken the book.

The Locket pack had been with me for my first shift. The same wolves that had seen the Horned Lord and my failure to catch the stag.

As soon as my foot touched the staircase, the chiming stopped. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and I rubbed the skin between my brows to ease the pain that refused to go away as fast as the bell.

None of us spoke as we walked through the castle, though my eyes lingered on the red cloak displayed by the front doors.

Kaleb hung back until he walked in step with me. His shoulder brushed against mine, but he made no apologies; he pretended not to notice.

His presence helped my nerves as we made our way to the hall. The space was too large and empty with just the five of us.

Our footsteps echoed against the floor as we approached the platform. The Huntsman was nowhere to be seen.

Wyatt jammed his hands in his pockets and let out a low whistle. “So, anyone doing anything interesting after this?” He joked.

Mitchell snorted a laugh.

The door at the far end of the room opened, and the Huntsman emerged from the shadows. His steps were calm and measured as he made his way toward us.

“We have a Manticore. Some place named the‘city of angels.’” The Huntsman adjusted the lapels of his velvet coat.“This hunt must be discreet. Too many humans and too high a risk.”

The Locket pack exchanged glances.

I knew what they were thinking. Why had I been chosen? Each man around me was strong and undoubtedly had something to bring to the table—I’d been a wolf for less than a few days. I was a Weaver, but that didn’t mean much without something to weave.

The Huntsman turned to me, and I froze under his regard. “I trust that you’ll be able to track the Manticore.” He sneered. “As you so readily found the Horned Lord.”

The Huntsman lifted his hand, and with a flick, the wall behind the platform dissolved into mist.

“I—” I opened my mouth and closed it.

“No shifting?” Dean asked brusquely.

The Huntsman shook his head. “The manticore is in a densely populated area.”

The Huntsman stared at us with an alien psychopathy as he waited for us to enter the misty portal.

Kaleb reached out, knitting his fingers with mine, and I was too frightened to pull my hand back.

“Only a few more days,” Kaleb whispered, but his words did little to comfort me.

With his unblinking eyes, the Huntsman watched us as we disappeared through the portal back to the human world.

I’d never been to Los Angeles before, though, like every person living, I’d seen films.

I’d spent my life in Locket, TN, and never set foot outside the state.

The portal spat us out in a bricked alley beside a locked dumpster, surrounded by garbage bags and old newspapers. The smell of sun-baked rotten food filled the night air, making me vaguely sick.

I wasn’t sure what I had expected. Maybe the Hollywood Sign in the distance, designer clothing stores ala Pretty Woman, but whatever delusions of grandeur died as I noted the puddle of human piss a few feet from my leather slippers.

“What’s a manticore?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we have weapons or something?”

Each man pulled a different knife from their pockets, from a switchblade to an ornate dagger. It seemed that I was the only one unarmed.

“A manticore is a rather large monster,” Kaleb informed me. “It has the body of a lion and a scorpion tail.”

---