Page 50 of Howling Night

Taking a deep breath, I stepped off the porch. The cool night air prickled my skin as I stepped down on the grass, peering through the darkness toward the house.

Ryder would never forgive me if I left after his warning. He’d nearly blown a gasket when I’d gone out with Courtney during the day, but it wasn’t like I could just stand here and do nothing either.

My gaze darted left and right, scanning for any movement… any signs of danger or help from the wolves. The quiet pressed in around me, making every step sound thunderous.

Where were my guards… and where was Ryder?

I raced across the street, cautiously making my way closer to the house. All the lights were still on, but there was no shouting, just an eerie quiet that made me question whether or not I’d heard or seen anything at all.

I’d never met the man who lived there, nor had I even seen him, but that didn’t mean I could just pretend I hadn’t heard anything. If something happened and I didn’t do anything, I couldn’t live with myself. It wasn’t the same as being in the city and looking the other way from gang violence or drug deals… this was someone’s life in danger. Or at least that was the way it had sounded.

I approached the house, my steps slow and silent as I climbed up the porch steps to the door. My eyes darted to the window, but I couldn’t see anything except for part of the living room and a dining room table further back.

My knuckles hesitated just inches from the wood. If everything was fine, I could just say I was stopping by to introduce myself… in the middle of the night. Sigh. Not very believable. Before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked firmly.

Moments passed, and I knocked again. “Hello? Everything okay in there?”

I was about to knock again when I heard footsteps approaching. The door swung open, revealing a young woman, maybe early twenties, with auburn hair flowing down both shoulders. She wore black jeans and a black sweater, looking perfectly stunning and put-together for midnight.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her voice pleasant even though there was a stranger at her door in the middle of the night.

“Oh,” I said before clearing my throat and pasting on a smile. “I’m Everly from across the street. I was told a man lived here, and I know this is totally weird, but I thought I heard something and just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Oh gosh, I am so sorry about that. My dad and I were watching a movie. I can’t believe it was loud enough for you to hear it across the street.” She rolled her eyes and glanced over her shoulder. “My father is a bit hard of hearing. I’m really sorry we disturbed you at this hour.”

I hesitated, looking past her into the house. The entryway opened into a short hallway, so I couldn’t see into the living room. What I could see was filled with boxes and stacks of books — an organized mess.

“I’m Francis,” she said, extending her hand and flashing me a cool smile. “My father is… have you lived across the street long?”

“No,” I said, taking her hand.

She shook slowly, her skin cool against mine. “I don’t come around much, but I thought an old man lived in that house?”

“Yeah, I’m the new owner,” I said, taking a step back. “I’m really sorry I bothered you.”

As she pulled her hand back, I noticed a splatter of blood on the back of her hand. I swallowed hard as my pulse quickened. Something was definitely wrong.

My eyes darted to her face, and I knew immediately she knew I’d seen something. Her smile was frozen on her face.

“Well, goodnight,” I said, taking another step back.

I didn’t make it more than half a step before she grabbed me with shocking speed. Francis yanked me inside the house, shoving me forward as she slammed the door shut behind me. I tripped over my feet and fell hard onto the wooden floor.

“No one ever minds their own fucking business anymore,” she said, licking the blood off her hand.

I scrambled backward, stopping when I spotted the old man sprawled on the floor in front of the TV. His throat was torn open, blood pooled around him, and his eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, trying to get to my feet. I slipped on a splotch of blood, but managed to regain my footing.

She bobbed and weaved with each of my movements, and when I darted toward the back of the house, she moved with inhuman speed, blocking my path. Francis clicked her tongue as she rubbed her hands together.

“Help!” I shouted, hoping someone — anyone — might hear. “Help me!”

“Who would come for you?” Francis said with a chilling laugh. “No more neighbors left to get in the way.”

She stalked toward me as I backed away, looking frantically for anything I could use as a weapon. My back hit a wall, and panic surged through me.

“Please,” I gasped. “Whatever you want?—”

---