Page 50 of To Keep A Wolf
Another snarl, this one familiar: my mother’s wolf.
Finally, a new scent hits me.
“Open the door,” I say.
Levi tries to protest, but I just move past him toward the knob.
“Whoa, Mac, you can’t—”
“She’s not lying,” I hiss. “There’s a tracker outside.”
He hesitates a single beat, just long enough to inhale the new scent and decide for himself. It’s more than enough time for me to slide past him and out the door. My mother’s nowhere in sight; already gone to meet the threat. Knowing it only makes me move faster.
Behind me, I can hear Levi demanding that I wait.
But I press onward, thinking only of the devastating venom that left me poisoned for days the last time I faced one of these assholes. Regardless of whether my mom’s lying or not, she doesn’t deserve that fate.
I rush out and scan the yard, spotting two wolves near the tree line, locked in combat. The charm spell is still intact because I still can’t scent my mother, but the tracker’s smell wrinkles my nose.
I take off at a run, shifting as I launch myself toward the fight. My paws hit the grass with grace and agility—and, damn, it feels good to take this form again. For the space of three strides, my wolf’s release is nearly euphoric. But then we lock onto the enemy ahead, and everything else fades away.
Behind me, I sense another wolf approaching.
Levi. And the sound of heavy boots rushing behind him.
My father.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Tripp’s wolf coming in from the side. Watching my back as always. Or maybe this was the signal Levi gave. Either way, he’s arcing wide to come in from the opposite side from me.
This tracker is about to regret his decision tonight.
The tracker knocks my mother farther into the trees. She is light on her feet, up quickly, and already facing off again. But she’s careful not to get too close to its claws. We both know what will happen if their venom-coated tips break her skin. The tracker understands the advantage and uses it perfectly, stalking toward her until she’s backing away. Its back is to me now, unaware of the threat approaching. Perfect.
I eat up the ground, mere steps away now.
Just before I can bury my teeth into its throat, a shot rings out.
It’s nothing like the blast of a bullet. Instead, the sound is muffled; more wind and propulsion than gunpowder and force. Something sharp buries itself in the tracker’s neck. The tracker jerks and then shakes it off. But another second later, the wolf’s body is listing sideways and then abruptly falls over.
I pull up short, huffing with the need to finish what I started. But the damn thing is already out like a light. Up close, I spot the dart my father shot it with, still sticking out of the thing’s furry neck.
From the shadows, my mother’s wolf emerges, sniffing. She stalks toward the tracker and stops, eyeing the dart. She looks up at my father sharply, her large wolf eyes narrowed. A snarl rips from her lips. Then she sinks her teeth into the tracker’s throat and rips it open.
CHAPTER15
My heart rate is strangely calm when I step out of the shower and dress in the change of clothes I’ve borrowed from Levi. A pair of sweats and an over-sized tee that says Tactical Elite, We Go Hard. The words distract me from my spiraling thoughts. The idea that Levi wears this is almost amusing. Or maybe it’s just my dirty brain that sees an innuendo where there isn’t one. The slogan doesn’t feel like something he would choose to wear, but then I realize maybe I don’t know him like I think I do. I make a mental note to ask him about it, and somewhere in this inner monologue with myself, I wonder how I’m not falling apart.
Sure, my entire upbringing was centered around normalizing violence, especially where my mother is concerned. I’ve seen her subdue targets more times than I’ve witnessed it in movies over the years. But killing an unconscious wolf? That’s new. Even if it was a tracker.
Whatever happened to her after I left Blackstone has left its mark.
That, more than anything she said, leaves me wanting to hear her story. It also convinced the rest that she isn’t a threat to me after all. Even so, I could sense Levi’s hesitance at leaving us alone in the house. He made me take the rifle into the bathroom with me, which I promptly stuffed into the linen closet so I wouldn’t have to look at it.
Weapons don’t bother me, but something about the idea of having to use it on my mom doesn’t sit well. If she’s going to attack me outright, I’ll fight her off with the weapons gifted to me by blood—or not at all.
I towel dry my hair and then hunt around for a brush. I come up with a comb and do my best to make it work on my thick, tangled head of hair. On the upside, the wound on my shoulder is pretty much healed already. And my ear is good as new.
Apparently, the aconitum worked after all.
