Page 3 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
How did I make it home?
“For fuck’s sake, not this wolf again.” Aunt Lou’s footsteps draw my attention back to her. She stomps across the porch in her robe and into the house, reaching for the shotgun behind the door.
Again?
I swing my gaze toward the tree line. There he is. Standing at the edge of the lawn is a jet-black wolf. White mist curls around his legs. He’s even bigger than I remember. In my peripheral, Aunt Lou raises the barrel of the shotgun.
The wolf’s angry yellow eyes stay pinned on me. His lips curl back, revealing saliva-drenched teeth. He releases a deep growl when Aunt Lou takes a steadying breath.
She’s going to shoot him.
She can’t. The thought zings through my body, and my arm reaches for her almost as though it’s moving on its own.
“No!” I grab her wrist.
“Raven, goddammit.” Her finger tightens on the trigger, and the resulting bang deafens me. Aunt Lou’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear anything. Birds flap out of the trees.
When I glance to where the wolf once was, I see he’s gone. Relief floods through me, though I don’t understand why I stopped her. What do I care about the predator?
He’s dangerous.
Aunt Lou grabs my shoulders and shakes me. The ringing in my ears fades enough so I hear the end of her rant.
“—hell are you thinking? I could’ve killed you.” Her face is screwed up and scarlet. She grabs my arm, pointing the shotgun down with her other hand and drags me up the porch steps.
“Aunt Lou, you’re hurting me.”
She makes a small noise of surprise and drops her grip on my biceps. Taking a hard breath, she scrubs her hand over her face. “I’m sorry, Raven.” She pinches her eyebrows together and looks toward the forest. “We should go inside. He might come back.”
The rickety screen door screeches, crying out in desperate need of a good oiling.
Something ominous and dark presses against my skin. I bite my lip and shoot my gaze over my shoulder. The trees seem to lean toward me, threatening to envelop me, trying to trap me in their depths once more so the wolf can finish what he started.
Not today.
I shake my head and scurry through the door Aunt Lou is holding open. The wood bangs shut after her, and she sets the shotgun down. I eye the weapon, wondering what she meant by not again. I’ve lived here for two years, and I’ve never seen her shoot at a wolf.
Catching where my attention has gone, Aunt Lou taps her foot on the dust covered floor. “You can’t run in the forest anymore.”
I swing my gaze to hers. Her lips are pressed into a grim line.
“What, why?” I ask even though I’m not entirely sure I want to go back after what happened.
She points to the living room. With a sigh, I head across the creaking floor and sit on the threadbare couch, picking at a loose string. Aunt Lou sits in her rocking chair, making the wooden floor moan when she pushes her foot against the ground and the rockers sway back and forth.
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to scare you.”
I rip the string off the cushion, taking satisfaction in the slight tension before it falls free. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve tried to shoot him or scare him off with the gun. Today was the fourth time I’ve seen that beast. The son of a bitch always runs before I can nail him.”
Lifting my gaze, I scoff. “You never thought to tell me?”
I’ve always known there are wild animals in the forest, even that wolves live there. Assuming they stayed in the deeper reaches of the trees was my mistake. I thought my short three-mile loop was safe.
Aunt Lou sighs and rocks harder. “You already had so much to worry about…” She trails off, eyes filling with tears. “After everything you lost, I couldn’t take away your running space too.”
She lost her sister and best friend the day Mom killed herself. Now she’s stuck with me. Two years of misery with a rebellious teenager who likes to drink. Poor woman.
