Magic Stars (Grey Wolf #1)(17)

He pushed her hands away, but she put them back, her fingers cold on his skin. She caught his gaze. He stared into her brown irises.

“Derek! He summoned a hunter. The animals on the pole are your prey, and you are the hunter’s prey. This whole place is one giant magic trap, and it’s trying to make you act in your assigned role. The hunter will sic his hounds, the wolf will run, and the hunter will chase and kill it. It’s the way things were done for thousands of years, but you’re not all wolf.”

Another howl cut at him, like a sharp blade slicing at the nape of his neck. Woods . . .

Her hands held his face, her eyes two bottomless pools. “You’re human. You’re not all wolf. You don’t have to run. You’re human. Look at me. You’re Derek. If you run now, you’ll die.”

If he ran, she couldn’t keep up.

“You’re human, Derek.”

Her voice severed the welling panic. He felt reason returning slowly, slipping through pain and instinct. The things that howled would find them soon, and he was in no shape to fight. “We have to get to shelter.”

She let him go. “If you run, the spell will lock on you, and you won’t be able to break away. Don’t run, Derek.”

“I won’t.”

He turned around, fighting dizziness. A building—an old warehouse— loomed above the ruins to the right. It was obvious, but he didn’t care. They needed shelter. He pointed to it. She nodded.

A sharp, triumphant howl sliced through the night. A hound was feet away, and it had just caught their scent.



TO THE LEFT, THE WALLS CAME together under a sharp angle, leaving only a narrow gap, half-choked by rubble. Anywhere else would put them into the open. He pointed to it.

Julie reached into her sack and pulled out a plastic bag of yellow powder. He took a deep breath and thrust his hoodie over his nose and mouth. She tossed the handful of wolfsbane into the air and backed toward him. They slipped into the gap. It terminated in a solid wall less than ten feet away. To the right, another wall. Above them, metal bars crossed. He could break them, but not without making noise. They were trapped in the twelve-by-twelve-feet space.

He went to ground. Julie lowered herself next to him. They peered through the gaps between broken bricks and dirt. Something grunted low and deep just behind the corner. Something big.

Derek lay completely still. The silver had eaten a hole in his chest and was trying to reach his heart.

Another grunt, harsh, loud. A beast ran into the open, huge, at least three hundred pounds and covered with long, coarse brown fur. In a bad light, he’d mistake it for a boar: It had the bulk, the shape, and the enormous boar jaws armed with tusks and massive teeth. But it had no hooves. Its legs terminated in clawed paws.

He had no idea if the wolfsbane would work on it.

The boar-hound snarled under its breath, sucking in the air. Small vicious eyes stared, unblinking. The creature took a step closer to the gap.

Next to him Julie held completely still. She couldn’t take a hound. She’d need a spear. The tomahawks wouldn’t do it. He had to fix himself fast or neither of them would get out alive.

Another step.

Another.

He reached for his knife.

The boar-hound inhaled, searching for their scent, and recoiled. It snorted, pawed at its nose, snarled, and squealed like a pig.

His ears caught the sound of heavy hoofbeats drawing near.

The boar-hound grunted, circling the smoldering ring, trying to get away from the wolfsbane.

A massive shaggy horse came into view, carrying a rider. Derek’s view gave him a glimpse of a leather boot and a leg in brown pants. Derek dipped his head, trying to get a better look. The hunter wore leather. Big, at least six eight, larger, broader, probably stronger than a normal human. A hooded cloak of wolf fur shielded his back. The invisible hackles between Derek’s shoulders stood on end.

The hunter turned, showing his face. Around thirty, white, long brown hair. Hard. Weather-bitten. Light eyes. A long ragged scar crossing the nose bridge. Something with claws had marked him, but must’ve died before it finished the job. Derek bared his teeth. He’d make him choke on that fur.

A tall bow of wood and bone hung over the hunter’s shoulder. The hunter raised an arm shielded by leather. A shriek tore through the night, and a bird dropped from the sky like a stone and landed on the arm. Ugly, bearded, big, with a vicious beak. Didn’t look like any bird he’d ever seen.

The hunter studied the boar-hound, then raised his head and surveyed the area. His gaze passed over their shelter. He peered into the gap. Derek looked into his eyes. Magic rolled over him in a dark cold wave, dousing the agony of silver with ice, and he saw a long, frozen winter night under the moon. He felt the cold snow under his paws. He smelled his own blood, bright and hot, as it fell onto the snow, and heard the long, undulating howl of hungry hounds.

This is the way it always was. This is the way it had to be now. He had to run, run into the trees, before the arrows and hounds found him.

Nice try, asshole.

The urge to run was overwhelming now. It was taking all of his will to just stay still.

A moment dripped by. Derek waited. He was a wolf. He had all the patience in the world.

The hunter whistled softly through his teeth. The boar-hound shook its head and moved on. The hunter turned away, tossed the bird back into the night sky, and the massive horse resumed its steady walk.