Page 31 of The Wolfing Hour
He grasped my hand with his teeth and pulled hard enough to get me to move but not to hurt. I booped his nose with my other hand, and he released me.
“I’m hurrying.” I snatched up his jeans, a fresh T-shirt, his running shoes and my bag then ran outside with the wolf on my heels. “Cecil, Fennel, we’ve got an emergency. Let’s go.”
I had to hand it to them. My boys dropped whatever they were doing in the garden room and were instantly at my side. Autry eyed us from her bed in the garden room.
“Stay in the garden room,” I said. “Keep Meredith company, if she’ll let you.”
The kitten blinked sleepily. I took it as a yes.
Ronan’s wolf climbed into the back seat and the boys got into their car seat. I tossed my bag and his clothing on the front floorboard. “Where do I go?”
He shifted until he was still wolf but able to speak. “La Paloma,” he grunted. “Dusty Trails Senior Center.”
I’m playing tennis with Gladys at the senior center in La Paloma at nine.
Glacier-like chills gripped me.Ida.
I threw myself behind the wheel, tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of my grandfather’s birthplace, and took the farm roads into town. I was so focused on getting to Ida and Gladys, I didn’t even switch on the radio.
I double-parked next to a Toyota with body damage and scooped up Cecil and my bag. I set the gnome on my shoulder and the bag on my elbow. Fennel and Ronan followed us in.
Humans might be convinced to believe Ronan was simply aGuinness World Recordslevel German Shepherd, but any paranormal would instantly recognize what they were seeing. Good thing this particular senior center catered only to paranormals.
The screaming started the second we opened the heavy security doors. The scent of sweat-soaked fur greeted us in the atrium.Wolves.
The screaming was coming from a woman to the left of us. She appeared to be in her early twenties, so she was either an employee or a guest of one of the seniors. Her eyes were big and stark and her brown skin dull and lifeless. She was scared out of her mind, and Ronan’s wolf form wasn’t helping things.
I caught her eye and held a finger to my lips, shushing her. I mouthed the words, “Good guys,” and gave her a thumbs-up. Remarkably, this seemed to work, because she stopped screaming and dropped to the floor with her arms clasped tightly around herself, crying and huffing.
“Where?” I asked.
She pointed a trembling finger at another set of doors to the far right. I knew from visiting that they led to the women’s locker room.
Ronan was already through them, Fennel on his heels. Unlike me, he hadn’t needed any guidance. His wolf knewexactly where to go. I ran after them, Cecil holding onto my hair to keep himself on my shoulder.
The locker room looked empty but felt packed.
A terrible scent, one I could only describe as blood and undercooked hamburger meat, overwhelmed the room. A petite, gray-haired woman peered out of a locker to my right.
“Wolves,” she whispered. She leaned out of the locker just enough to point out where they were then quietly shut the door.
I fast-walked in the direction she’d indicated, a silent Cecil iron-gripping my shoulder.
Two aisles down, I came on a scene from a nightmare. Gladys lay unconscious on the floor in her black tennis dress, chest torn open from her throat to her abdomen. Ida crouched beside her. Ronan’s wolf had his muzzle pressed against the wound as if he were—gods above and below—feeding on her.
“Ronan,” I cried out, but he ignored me.
“Don’t worry. He’s helping,” Ida croaked. “Some kind of wolf thing.”
She used the bench beside her to pull herself to her feet. Her white tennis outfit wasn’t spattered or even splashed with blood—it wasdrenched. And given the injury on her right temple, some of the blood was her own.
Rage erupted in me, spewing fire into my blood and belly. This had to be Floyd’s doing. Who else would target Gladys? What possible benefit could come from attacking an elderly retired cocktail waitress on a fixed income?
He’ll pay for this.
“Betty, they used silver on her,” Ida said.
I hurriedly unzipped my bag and extractedpainandhealcharms then set the bag on the floor for Fennel to paw through. Although Cecil was better at working with herbs, Fennel had his own magic. I kept some of his favorite supplies in the side pockets in case he needed them.
