Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)(3)

“You are marked for death.”





Chapter Two





Hunted


I yanked at my hand and finally broke free, the momentum pushing me back so hard my chair almost toppled over. I stumbled to stand, my body shaking, my legs weak.

“No! You can’t say that kind of stuff—you can’t talk about death like that!” I bolted through the closed tent panels, my mind reeling at the bizarre words that kept repeating in my head.

You are marked for death.

The humid night air assaulted me when I exited, sucking my breath away. I panted as I tried desperately to get my heart to slow and my nerves to calm. That woman was crazy. No psychic in their right mind would give a prediction like that. Who would want to know something so dreadful? I stumbled a few paces away, then scanned the noisy fair grounds, the flashing lights and yelps of pleasure doing nothing to relax me.

Where’s Rachel? She said she’d wait right outside the tent.

Someone jostled me and I turned, expecting to see my friend and ready to blast her for making me venture outside of the safety of my home, but strangers surrounded me. I spun around, disoriented and lost in the hectic movement of the crowd and enveloped by the loud, claustrophobic noise.

I squinted, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the glare of the carnival lights. My awareness sharpened as the noise truly became clear. Screaming. But not the usual, happy reveler type of screaming. No, this was more like screams of terror. I turned again, scanning the crowd that continued to bump and push past me. This wasn’t a slow moving group of partiers. This was a panicked exodus. All of these people were running away from something. And there I stood, dumb and still, being pushed and shoved, lucky to be standing at all.

“What the eff is going on?” I whispered, narrowing my eyes into the darkness beyond the carnival lights as the last of the group moved past, ignoring my unmoving form. I should be running too. But confusion rooted me in place. The carnival sounds seemed to have stopped, the only noise coming from the people who’d already escaped, their screams echoing behind me.

An eerie feeling of disquiet settled over me—a sense of being watched.

In the distance, glowing orbs blinked into existence, twin yellow bulbs floating in the darkness that surrounded the outer boundaries of the carnival. I narrowed my vision even more, until I locked onto those two bright beacons. I took a hesitant step forward, then another, all the while staring in confusion, my mind puzzled, reason fleeing.

I shivered. The orbs matched my movement. For every step I took forward, they did the same, until finally as I lowered my hand from my brow, the pulsing lights of the carnival revealed what the orbs truly were.

My scream remained trapped in my throat as I jerked backward, stumbling before my body tensed and my legs locked. I wanted to run but found myself standing, foolishly still once again—this time frozen by fear—my gaze riveted on the gigantic wolf moving closer to me.

Vomit surged with my fright, a disgusting lump in my throat that I struggled to control.

The wolf’s yellow eyes glared at me, its teeth bared as it sniffed the air, and then licked its long tongue across its nose.

I didn’t know much about wolves, but I knew enough to guess that if I spun and ran, the beast would be on me in seconds. The thing was so huge its head was higher than my waist, and I was a tall girl. I’d never seen a dog, even the big breeds, who matched this animal in size.

The wolf regarded me for a moment longer before it raised its monstrous head and howled into the night.

Full-blown terror slammed into me as the wolf’s cry was echoed by another in the distance, and then another, and another. I jerked my gaze to the tree line surrounding the carnival and I knew, even if I couldn’t see them, the wolf had a pack. And he had just called them for dinner.

I swiveled my gaze back to the wolf, startled to find it had moved even closer to me, now stood less than a few feet away. The smell of its rank breath as it puffed air from its body was made worse by the constant rolling of its tongue along its snout, which coated its muzzle in slime. I started to take a step back—one foot raised, just a tiny movement—and the wolf growled, baring its impossibly large fangs, snarling until I placed my foot back on the ground.

In a crazy moment of desperation, I raised my hands in front of me.

Maybe it just wants to smell me, and then it’ll leave me alone.

The psychic’s words flashed through my mind. You are marked for death.

Feeling like a fool, I pulled my hands back and wrapped my arms around myself.

The wolf regarded me, its head cocked as if studying my behavior. Something flashed across its eyes—something I couldn’t quite explain, an intelligence that made me feel all the more vulnerable. It took another step in my direction and then awkwardly lurched backward and raised itself onto its hind legs.

My eyes flew open wide, the strangeness of the situation momentarily dispelling my fear. I was shocked even more when the creature moved toward me with a grace that suggested it walked on its hind legs regularly. I choked on a hysterical kind of giggle. This had to be some kind of prank, a trained animal that the carnival owned. Maybe the wolf had escaped from its cage. My heart thudded painfully as I prayed some trainer would come and call his pet off.

Beware of the beast. He comes for you.

It moved closer, its fangs flashing in a silent growl. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat, struggling not to sob, not to beg for my life, all thoughts of laughing gone. I knew that there was no trainer. I knew that no one would come to my rescue. I slid my eyes closed, unable to face the hideous monster glaring down at me.