Page 120 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
“I’m not a kid,” I say, glaring at him. “Still, I’ll take a break when you do.”
He shakes his head and sighs. “Fine, be miserable to take another order.
The thing is, that night was the first night I totally forgot about what happened with my parents and after managing to get through the rush without any complaints or arguments, the experience was eye opening. I didn’t have to be sad; I could choose to find happiness in the simplest of tasks. Being a glorified dishwasher in a rundown bar in small town America helped bring me back from the brink of depression.
I move my hands from my face and glance around when I realize the sounds from my memories have stopped. The black vortex is gone, and in its place is an even bleaker version of the ballroom. Instead of being dark and dusty, the room is gray and lackluster. There are holes in the wainscoting, like the wood rotted away.
Joan is lying on the stage, sprawled out like she fainted or collapsed in pain. I run over, dropping to my knees and digging my fingers into her fur. She doesn’t move. I try to feel for a pulse, but I don’t know where to check on a wolf so I drop my ear to her back, hold my breath, and listen.
There. The faintest beat, but a beat, nonetheless. I run my hands over her back and shoot my gaze around.
“You’re okay, Joan. Let’s get you out of here.” I haven’t quite figured out how to get out of here and back to the land of the living, but once she’s roused, I’ll figure it out. “If you wake up, we can get tacos.”
Her breathing is slow and steady, like she’s in a deep sleep. I gently shake her and whisper in her ear about all the different types of tacos we can get. She sucks in a sharp breath.
“You should have specified street tacos. Carne asada is my favorite,” she says lifting her head and swinging it in my direction.
I giggle and hug her neck. “You’re okay.”
“Sort of.” She wheezes around my chokehold hug.
“Do I even want to know how you can speak out loud in this form?”
She chuffs. “I think it’s because we’re in this weird place because wolves normally can’t talk.”
Extricating myself from the hug, I hold her face in my hands. She growls at me and I boop her nose. “I’ve missed your grumpy ass.”
“Just my ass?”
I snort and shove her away from me. “Gross, Joan.”
“You’re the one talking about my ass,” she says with a scoff.
Sitting back on my heels, I study this rundown version of the ballroom and curl my fingers into fists. I’m not sure how to get back. There’s no swirling vortex and portal we can hop through. There’s a faint tap, tap, tap that’s steadily growing louder with each passing second. I stand and Joan rises to all fours and bares her teeth, growling toward the door. The closer the tapping gets, the easier the sound is to distinguish. High heels clicking against the floor.
“Boo,” a voice says moments before a woman dressed in bright red materializes a foot away from me. Joan lunges for her, but the woman holds her hand up, somehow trapping my wolf mid-jump. Her hair is black and long, reaching past her waist and brushing against her thighs. My gaze catches her eerie white eyes, and I can’t look away. They’re so… unreal.
“Who are you?”
“You don’t know? I’ve been waiting for you.” She traces her tongue over her lips.
“Would I have asked if I knew?” I glance at Joan. “Can you let my wolf go?”
The woman tips her head to the side. “Hmm. No. I like the way she tastes too much to let her go.”
Spirits can be fickle beings, so I try a different angle. “Is this your house?”
Her eyes widen for a second, but she recovers quickly and runs her hand over her hair. “This is my mansion, yes.”
“It’s very antique,” I say, pointing to one of the cobwebs.
“I like it this way.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and the movement breaks the spell that was holding Joan in place. My wolf thuds to the ground, and I dig my fingers into her fur to keep her from pouncing again.
Since I focused on grasping my necromantic powers to get here, I guess I should finish the job, even if it means bringing whoever she is back to life. I can always shove her back to Death’s door once we get out of here. I begin to pull on the thread connecting me to the other world and to Earth; the room darkens and the woman scowls at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Let me bite her ass, see how she likes to be eaten,” Joan says.
