The Better to Bite (Howl #1)(44)
I blinked at him. “It was in her locker.”
“Um.” A non-committal growl, then, “And how’d you know that?”
I stared back at him.
Anger flashed across his face. “You were ready to tell Brent everything, but you can’t trust me at all, can you?”
Before I could answer, he expelled a hard breath. “I don’t need you to tell me. I already know your secrets, Anna. You’re just like she was. Can’t get lost, can you? Not in the woods the first night we met, not even after the wreck when you were weak and bleeding.”
“No.” My whisper, and I realized I was finally confessing to someone, just not the boy I’d anticipated. “I can’t get lost.”
“And nothing’s lost from you,” Rafe added, nodding. “That’s how you knew where Sissy’s body was and how you found your necklace.”
“I’m different like that,” I muttered.
“No.” Snapped out. Then, softer, “You’ve very, very special like that.”
Oh, wait. That was…nice. I slowly lowered the mace.
“It was a set-up today. Someone else suspected what you could do, but that person wanted proof.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “You gave ‘em that proof, right in front of the whole school.”
My stomach knotted. “Just how many wolves are running around Haven High? I mean, other than you and—” Brent. Dang it. Just when I thought I’d found the perfect, All-American guy…
An All-American guy who got very furry.
“It’s not like we have group meetings.” Rafe poured on the sarcasm now. “And when we shift, our scents change. I can’t tell which wolves are running in those woods, and I sure can’t match their scents to any folks in the daylight.”
Well, that was just sucky. “You truly don’t know?”
“Families move away. Some come back. Some run far. Some names change over time. I can’t know all the original hunters, and I don’t know how many…wolves…there might be in this town.”
Great. That knot in my stomach twisted even tighter. “You do know that one of those wolves,” one, maybe a lot more, “is killing.”
“I’m trying to stop him! I was tracking him in the woods, the first time I found you.”
When I’d almost been a meal.
His hand dropped. “I just wish you hadn’t shown them all the truth today.”
He kept coming back to that. “Why? So they know I’m weird and I can find things.” Didn’t get much weirder than changing into an animal in her book. Who were the wolves to judge? “What’s the big deal?”
His eyes sharpened on me. “Who told you about Haven’s past?”
The guy just couldn’t answer my questions simply. Like someone else I knew. “Granny Helen.”
He grunted, as if he’d expected that answer. “And she didn’t tell you how the curse can supposedly be broken?”
Why was the air suddenly feeling so much cooler? “No, we, uh, skipped that part.” Or I ran out before she could tell me because I wanted to find my dad, ASAP. But dear old dad is out in the woods fishing a skeleton out of a stream.
“The curse can only be broken by a witch with great power, as much power as the witch who made the original curse.”
I stumbled back as the implications of his words and that hard stare sank in. “Whoa. Hold on, take a breath, okay? I’m not—”
“You can find things, just like Elizabeth. The same power…you proved that to them all.” He looked back at me with a hooded gaze. “There haven’t been witches in Haven—witches from the original bloodline, because for the curse to be broken, it has to be in the blood—for decades. We all thought the power line had died out.”
“Then I came into town,” I managed to say through numb lips. I’m not a witch. I’m not. I’m different. Psychic. Not a witch. I don’t even use a broom to clean.
“Then you came into town,” he repeated softly, his eyes on mine, “and everything changed.”
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. “I can’t help you.” I didn’t know what he wanted from me. “I don’t know anything about magic or curses. I just…I find things, okay? That’s all.”
Did he look disappointed? Angry? I couldn’t say for sure.
“Wh-what about Granny Helen?” She was a witch, right? I could feel her power.
“She’s not descended from the witches who cursed this town. Helen’s power comes from somewhere else. She can’t help us.” His face hardened as he stared at me. “They know what you are now. There’s no more hiding for you.” His head inclined toward me. “So be very, very careful when you walk into the woods, and never leave your silver behind.”
He turned away.
“Rafe!”
He didn’t look back.
“I’m not a witch. I-I know things, but trust me on this, I’m not a witch.” We needed to just be clear about that. Being…different…was hard enough. Being a witch? No, thank you.
He kept walking.
“Rafe! I’m not!”
For a moment, he did glance back. “You’re more than you think.” His jaw hardened, and I thought he growled, “I just hate that it’s you.”