The Better to Bite (Howl #1)(3)

His face hardened. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he told me. “You don’t know this area. You’ll get lost—”

“I never get lost.” Now there I went—blurting. And except for one bad confession to an ex-boyfriend, I’d kept that secret for over three years, ever since I first developed my little gift on my thirteenth birthday. But give me a wolf, a claw mark, and a hot guy, and suddenly I’m over-sharing.

His brows snapped together at my words. “What?”

“I know my way home,” I mumbled, aware that my cheeks had to be flushing. I could feel the heat on my face.

“Good.” Though he didn’t sound particularly convinced.

I straightened my shoulders. Sure, I might only be hitting about five foot five and Mr. Strong easily topped six feet, but I wasn’t a pushover.

Despite my screaming run through the woods—had he seen any of that?—I knew how to handle myself. Correction—in the city, I did. Out here, maybe I was just fresh meat.

Note to self…get country tough, ASAP. I cleared my throat, “Who are you?” I asked again, but this time, I made my voice stronger, harder.

He stared at me a moment, and I hoped I didn’t look as bad as I felt. Probably a wasted hope. “Be careful walking in the woods,” he told me, so not giving me his name as he turned and sauntered away. “You never know what’s waiting out here.”

Okay. That had sounded all darkly menacing and dangerous. I brushed off my hands, and blood stained my shorts as I pressed my palms over the material. The guy had saved me from more bruises, possibly even from a broken leg, and he was hot.

So, of course, I just watched him walk away.

I admired the view.

Then, when he was gone, I turned and started jogging back for home. And with every move I made, I felt like I was being watched.

The woods weren’t as interesting anymore. No, now they just seemed dark and dangerous and for once, I was very, very glad to be different as I took the shortest route to my new home.

***

My dad was late coming home. I had time to shower, wash the blood out of my shorts, and bandage my arm before I saw the Dawson County Sheriff’s car pull into our graveled drive.

Yeah, my dad’s the new sheriff in town. One day he’s a detective with the Chicago PD. The next…he’s been appointed sheriff here in Haven, South Carolina.

I acted like I was happy for my dad, but the truth was…I couldn’t even remember the last time I was actually happy about anything. Maybe before my mom died?

Not sure…

I smiled for my dad, though. I always did that. I figured why should he worry about me? He worried enough as it was.

Back in the day, my dad grew up here in Haven, South Carolina. Funny, though, he’d never told me about this place. I’d thought he always lived in the city.

Then he’d gotten word that his mother—a lady I’d never met, thanks, Dad—had passed away. He’d inherited her house here in Haven. He inherited the house one week and received the appointment of the sheriff’s job the next.

Dad said it was all fate.

I didn’t believe in fate. If I did, then I had to believe that I woke up this morning with no choice but to get clawed by a wolf.

No thanks, Fate.

The gravel crunched as Dad came toward me. He was a good-looking guy, or so I’d heard some ladies say when they didn’t think I’d been paying attention. In his early forties, he had short, blond hair and a face that only had a few lines near his eyes. Laugh lines. Despite the work he did, my dad liked to laugh.

But he wasn’t laughing now.

His sheriff’s uniform was a dull brown, but the star he wore on his chest gleamed in the weak light. He held his hat in his hands, and his jaw clenched as he walked toward me.

I knew that hard look on his face too well.

I rose from the porch swing. “What happened?”

My heart pounded too fast. He’d only been on the job for a few days-four days—and this gig was supposed to be easy. No stress. No fuss. That was the whole reason we’d left the city.

To escape.

A long sigh slipped past his lips. “They found Sheriff Brantley today.”

Not what I’d expected. “The guy who ran off?” That’s why my dad had been called in to Haven. He and the mayor had once been friends, so my dad said, anyway. When Sheriff Brantley cut out of town, the mayor had been desperate. There’d been no one else ready to take the job, and he’d phoned my dad.

Instant new life…so we thought.

“So—what?” I asked, confused and angry. “The guy decided to walk back into town? The job’s yours now, he can’t just—”

He climbed up the porch steps. “He didn’t walk back in any place.” He ran his fingers through his hair. My dad does that move a lot—usually when he’s worried.

I wasn’t going to like the part that came next. But I just stood there, with my toes curling into the wooden porch and my chin up. The wound on my arm seemed to throb.

“Some kids found Brantley’s body in the woods today.” A rough sigh slipped past his lips. “Or they found what was left of it.”

My stomach clenched. There weren’t supposed to be any dead bodies here. This place was supposed to be quiet and safe.

Not filled with wolves and death.