Page 5 of Shadow Bound

“No, she should be able to leave in a little while.” I stare at my sister’s bloodied hands as she talks. I don’t know how she’s sitting there covered in blood. After a kill, I can’t wait to wash the blood off me. There’s something validating in watching a rogue wolf’s blood disappear down the shower drain—it’s like I’ve washed them off my body and off the earth for good. “We are waiting until they clear her. Figured some extra security would be good.”

I nod once. “Are you guys good? Do you need me to stay?” I’m anxious to get back out there and hopefully track the person who did this. I was rushed before not knowing what state Pruitt was in. Hopefully if I go back up on the ridge, I’ll be able to find something tangible.

“No, we got it.” Ranger tilts his head. “Where are you going?”

The only way people can tell Ranger and I apart is because we wear our hair differently. He wears his longer to hang on his forehead and the tops of his ears. It would drive me crazy to have it that long, I much prefer to wear it shorter.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I send a quick text to Sawyer, my hunting partner. “I’m going back out there. I can’t just sit in here and do nothing. The longer I wait, the more distance they have to put between us.”

“I’ll go with you.” Ranger starts to stand but halts when I shake my head at him.

“No, Sawyer is meeting me. You stay here in case they need backup.” I look at Winslow and motion with my eyes to Remington’s blood-stained hands.

She easily understands my silent plea. She pops up in her seat. “Hey Remi, let’s go wash your hands off. The blood is grossing me out.” It’s a lie of course. Not much scares or disgusts Winslow—she sees and communicates with the dead and has seen her fair share of bloody apparitions. “You look like a freaking serial killer.” Got to love Winnie and her ill-timed humor.

Winslow ushers my sister toward the bathroom, giving me a look over her shoulder I can’t quite decipher before disappearing through the door. Winslow has a scary way of reading people, seeing past the masks we all wear. Some masks are put there unintentionally, worn as an armor to protect ourselves. I wear mine because I don’t like my family seeing that part of me.

I nod at my twin once before leaving the uncomfortably quiet waiting room.

The soles of my leather boots squeak on the linoleum floor as I walk down the wide hallway of the clinic. It’s after hours and quiet except for the soft buzzing from the fluorescent lights overhead. Every other light is on since the clinic is supposed to be closed, they cast shadows around the space.

I’m tapping out a reply to Sawyer when my wolf suddenly snarls in my head, bristling at something. I come to a stop, slowly swinging my gaze around the space, but I don’t see anything but closed doors and random medical posters hanging on the cream-colored walls.

My wolf doesn’t let up, instead he just becomes increasingly more agitated even though there’s no one in the hallway with us. I’m about to force myself forward when the scent from the ridge hits me. It’s faint, just barely a whisper mixed with the medical supply smells, but it’s definitely there and it’s fresh. My body stiffens as I breathe it in, the odd metallic smell stronger than before.

Tilting my head, I focus on the sounds around me, relying on my wolf shifter enhanced hearing. Behind the soft chatter coming from the waiting room I’d just left and the soft sound of the heat running in the vents in the walls, I hear it. It’s a low sound, barely audible almost like it’s underwater, but it’s there.

A heartbeat.

It’s the oddest heartbeat I’ve ever heard. While steady, the beats are spaced so far apart I have no idea how the person is alive. No one should be able to live with that slow of a heartbeat.

I don’t know where the shooter is, but I know they’re somewhere close by. When the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, just like they did an hour ago, I know they’re watching.

Tucking my phone in my jeans back pocket, slowly I spin in a circle, eyeing every shadow cast on the walls and corners, waiting for someone to jump out. I keep my posture relaxed, to hopefully convey I’m not prepared for a sudden assault, so they’ll think I’m an easy target. They’ll be sorely mistaken if they do, but on the inside, I’m readying myself, prepared for anything.

“Did you come here to finish the job?” I coolly ask into the air, not really expecting to get an answer. “I’ve got to warn you though, I won’t make it easy.”

I move farther down the hall, almost to the front door. The sound of the odd heartbeat gets stronger and the scent also intensifies, signaling that I’m getting closer. I have no idea where they’re hiding. There isn’t anything but shadows to hide in the hallway.

“You really fucked up by coming for Pruitt.” I continue to talk, keeping my pace slow and casual. “Not only are you going to have her entire pack on your ass for what you did, but she has a mate with a few anger issues. He’s going to tear you to pieces for harming her.” I pause when a chill of awareness runs down my spine. They’re close—I don’t know how or why, but I can sense them. I just can’t fucking see them. My wolf snaps his jaw and my claws break through my fingertips. I feel them somewhere to my left, but I keep my head faced forward to not give myself away. “And if he doesn’t do it. I can promise you this; I fucking will.”

I turn to the shadowy corner just as a figure emerges from the shadows as if it was melted into them—apartof them. It’s almost see-through at first, like the ghosts that Winslow sees, but it quickly solidifies and in a blink of an eye a woman stands before me.

Before she has time to react or I have time to really get a good look at her features, I’m seizing her by the neck and slamming her into the wall across the way. The anger that’s been boiling spills over and pure, unadulterated rage fills me making me see red.

My fangs descend as I snarl in her face, our noses only inches apart. My eyes, that have shifted into their silver wolf form, collide with hers. They’re the palest ice blue I’ve ever seen. It’s like looking into arctic glaciers. I find that they’re just as cold too, not an ounce of emotion is reflected in them.

If she fears me, she doesn’t show it. She doesn’t show anything in her facial expression. If anything, she looks bored.

“You never answered me. Did you come here to finish the job?”

A low growl escapes my throat as my wolf pushes for dominance.

“If I did?” Her voice is raspy like someone who’d lost their voice and are slowly regaining it.

“I’ll rip out your pretty little throat right now,” I offer, digging my claws into the column of her throat, enough for the tips to pierce her smooth porcelain skin.

She blinks at me, unfazed. “You should have done it the first second you saw me, because you have no chance of accomplishing it now.”

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