Page 1 of Secrets at Dawn
Prologue
The forest smelled of pine. It always did when winter was about to set in. The chilly air blew through the trees, rustling the needles, but it was gentle, as if the wind needed the trees to know they weren’t alone when the forest died under the weight of winter’s chill. Toby stood at the cleaning station, gutting the last of the season’s catch. They’d have enough protein to survive the cold season.
The cold stung his hands as if a thousand angry bees descended on them all at once. His skin reddened the longer he left it exposed, but there was no helping it. Dad was canning the last of the apples. They each had separate jobs for the day. It was up to Toby to get the fishing and cleaning finished for the season. Half-frozen hands were a lot better than having an empty belly for part of the winter. He’d experienced both. He knew the way of things.
Dad gave him a thumbs up when Toby met his gaze through their cabin’s window. Toby held up the fillets, showing his dad how well he had done. It was quite a difference from when Dadfirst taught him how to clean a fish. Toby had been so bad at it. Ten years later and he still needed praise.
Dad grinned and nodded. He’d get extra applesauce for dessert. A job well done needed to be rewarded. That was what Dad always said anyway.
Dad stood at the kitchen sink. He must be finished with canning. He made applesauce, and that didn’t take very long. A few hours at best.
Dad’s expression changed. His smile turned into a frown, and his eyebrows drew together. His expression hardened. It was the one he’d had when a bear had come into their camp. Toby had left their compostable food scraps out instead of putting them in the bin. Toby had been outside near the lake when he’d heard his dad yelling at the bear. Maybe a bear had come too close again.
Toby wasn’t a young pup anymore. He could shift into his wolf form if it came to that. He’d hate for the bear to steal their fish. He’d worked hard for his catch and didn’t want to give it up. Dad wouldn’t like it if Toby challenged the bear, though. He’d say it was too dangerous, but Toby knew how to fight. The fish were worth taking the risk. They’d need them to get through the winter, so the bear couldn’t have them.
When Toby turned to face the threat, it wasn’t what he’d thought. Humans approached. Four men with rifles walked toward him. They trained their guns on him.
He could smell blood even from a distance. They’d killed before, and not just prey animals like deer. He smelled a witch’s blood, too. But it was stale. Old. As though their clothing had been washed afterward.
They wore hunting gear, excluding the orange stocking cap. Underneath the scent of blood was the scent that belonged to them. Wolf shifters. They were like Toby. The only difference was that they were purebloods.
He hadn’t met very many people. He’d been isolated in the forest with his father for most of his life after his mother and grandparents had been murdered.
Dad had once said Toby was special. “You have the rarest of magic. That’s why we have to make the forest our home. People won’t understand. They’re dangerous to you, Toby.”
No one had ever bothered them before.
The wolf shifters trained their rifles on him, threatening him with the bullet in the chamber. His wolf took notice. His hackles rose, and he shifted his hands first, letting them know he’d use his claws.
He growled, baring his teeth. He would shift into what his dad called his werewolf. He was the biggest in that form. More menacing than when he was a wolf or human. But he’d find out what they wanted first.
He’d scared one hunter. He could see it in the way his eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. “He’s an alpha,andhe has magic.
“I told you. I saw what I saw.”
“That thing is an abomination.”
Dad came out of the house with their rifle. He put himself in front of Toby. “Lower your guns, gentlemen, and leave. We aren’t hurting anyone by being here.”
When they didn’t, Dad began conjuring a dome. He expected his dad to include himself, but the dome trapped Toby.
“No, Dad.” His gut churned. “I can help. Please. They’ll hurt you.”
“It’ll be okay, Toby.” Dad spoke in the same language he chanted. He’d called it Latin once, Toby had asked why all his school lessons were in the other language they’d used. “English is more common in this day and age and in this country,” Dad had answered. And then he’d said most people had stopped speaking Latin a long time ago. He’d said it was a speciallanguage and had made Toby promise not to lose it, as if it were an easily forgotten toy.
Toby beat his fists against the dome. It vibrated with the force but otherwise remained stable.
“What do you want?” Dad asked the men.
“We don’t allow freaks around here,” the one in the middle said. His hair was blond and greasy, as if he’d been in the forest for a few days and didn’t know how to wash up.
“This is state land. I’m not trespassing.” Trespassing meant the humans could involve the law. Dad made it clear that the law was bad. They’d take Toby to a magic council prison and take away his magic. But Dad had been careful when he’d picked their camp. They must have seen Toby while out hunting, maybe. They must have been watching him. Perhaps they were upwind, which was the only way Toby hadn’t smelled them. It meant Toby had made a mistake, but when?
Toby searched his memory, trying to figure out when the shifter could have seen him. It could have been that time by the creek. He’d shifted and played in the water while Dad fished nearby. The creek was too far away for Dad’s liking, which was part of the appeal. But that had been in the summer.
Before Toby could ponder further, one man raised his gun a little higher, as if to shoot. “Don’t know what the fuck you are, but you can’t be here.”
Toby acted on instinct. Chanting, conjuring up the magic that would make the man go away. He pictured a desert in his mind, making it as clear as he could.
