Page 11 of Howling Night

I shook my head. “I checked. Pretty sure that position’s been filled.”

“Aw, bummer,” Courtney said, puffing out her bottom lip. “Too bad, though. Every single woman in a hundred-mile radius would kill to work for Ryder Black. I don’t get it, though.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned in. “Everyone thinks he’s just the best thing since sliced bread. Sure, he’s attractive, but he’s just so… um… tall.”

“Tall, yeah,” I said.

“Like, even if I were twice as tall as I am, I’m not sure I’d even reach his shoulders. Anyway,” Courtney said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll see you around, right?”

“Sure.”

“I’m just down the road, okay?”

I gave her a quick nod. “Okay. Thanks for stopping by.”

I closed the door after her, leaning back against it. The cookies on the side table called my name, and I grabbed one, biting down into the still-warm gooeyness.

“Oh,” I said, closing my eyes.

It was utterly divine, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said about Ryder. Every single woman would kill to work for him, but I bet if they’d met him in the woods surrounded by wolves, they’d feel differently.

But that was not my problem, and I really needed to stop thinking about it. I grabbed another cookie and headed back to my unpacking. At least one person in this town seemed mostly normal and friendly. That was something.

I’d barely closed the door behind Courtney when my phone started buzzing. Annie’s name flashed across the screen, and I sighed, letting it go to voicemail.

After meeting the overly enthusiastic neighbor, stopping at May’s Diner, and the uncomfortable meeting with Ryder, I just didn’t have the energy. Sorry, Annie. I knew she, of all people, would understand.

And besides, I didn’t want to talk to her because I might break down and tell her that I thought I might have made a mistake moving to Birchwood Hollow. Hearing her beg me to move back wasn’t what I needed right now, because I’d probably jump in my car and drive back.

I grabbed another one of Courtney’s cookies — they really were incredible — and continued unpacking boxes and putting things away. The sun had already set, making shadows in the living room deeper than anything I’d ever seen in Chicago.

In the city, lights were everywhere. Out here, it was all darkness. The quiet was almost too much after all the years of city noise. There were no distant sirens or neighbors shouting at one another through thin walls and no constant hum of traffic… just complete, unsettling silence.

“This is what you wanted, Everly,” I said, sucking in a breath as I walked around the house, turning on every light I could find.

After another hour of half-hearted unpacking, I decided to call it a day. I dug through a box labeled “BEDROOM” until I found my sheets and comforter. All I wanted was to crawl under the covers with my book and forget about everything.

Clear my head.

That’s why I was here.

As I tucked in the last corner of my fitted sheet, Dean’s warning about locking up echoed in my mind. Because of where I used to live, locking doors was an automatic thing. Still, I checked them nonetheless.

I walked through the house, checking each window latch and testing the front and back doors. I peeked out the back window, staring off toward the pitch black woods where I’d first run into Ryder.

He’d been scary and intimidating when we met in the woods, but he was a business owner in this small town. It wasn’t like he was going to try to break into my house to threaten or interrogate me.

I shook my head and checked the door again, and with everything locked up tight, I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and slipped into bed. The mattress felt like heaven after the long day. I opened my book — a thriller I’d only started a week ago — and tried to lose myself in the pages.

The quiet made it easy to concentrate, at least until my thoughts kept drifting back to Ryder standing in the woods, tall and imposing, with the wolves coming out from behind the trees. He hadn’t even been scared. What kind of person has wild animals that are comfortable around them?

I was just starting to get absorbed in my book again when I heard it.

A howl.

Long, mournful, and much closer than I was comfortable with. I froze, my finger marking my place on the page as I listened. The sound came again, joined by another, then another — a chorus of wolves calling to each other in the darkness surrounding my house.

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