Page 55 of Howling
Hurt him, yes.
Kill him, no.
Frankie purses her lips at my question, and I can practically see her deciding how much to tell us. While I want to know everything, I know better than to push. It will only make her clam up tighter than a nun’s legs.
“You’re taking random jobs across the country,” the guy in chains muses, the intelligence in his eyes sharp enough to cut. “That’s how you’re able to keep one step ahead of the hunters.”
I don’t think anyone is breathing as we all wait for her answer, none of us wanting to say or do anything that might silence her.
Frankie rolls her shoulders, the curtain of her blonde hair shifting like a waterfall, and my fingers twitch with the need to touch. Blinking to break the near hypnotic movement, I focus on the side of her face. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to tell us shit. We’re virtual strangers. While I can’t fault her, my fox digs against the underside of my ribs with the need to know even the smallest detail.
Frankie glances at me briefly, maybe judging my worthiness, and I still, not daring to breathe as I wait for her verdict. For some reason, it’s important that she sees me as trustworthy.Foxes are scavengers, often treated as inferior and undeserving of being in a real pack.
When she gazes back out the windshield, I wilt in defeat, crushing disappointment threatening to flatten my chest, and I can’t dismiss the nagging impression that I failed a test.
I can’t really condemn her for the rejection.
Many larger predators often view foxes as lesser.
Though Dante and Garth never treated me poorly, tolerating my presence in their pack, I still feel like an outsider.
“The more you know about me, the more danger you will face.” Her nose crinkles, one of those cute expressions only girls can pull off, and my fox perks up at even the slightest hint of information.
“Don’t you think that ship has sailed?” I murmur, keeping my voice soft. I’m the mediator of the group, the one who smooths things over and charms people into doing things they normally wouldn’t. Since the other two are brutes, that’s not saying much. “Even if you don’t tell us, we will still be in danger. Wouldn’t it be better to know what we’re facing, so we can plan and watch for it?”
Her eyes flick to the man in the passenger seat. A mixture of frustration and rage blends together, leaving behind a helplessness that has me gritting my teeth with the need to shift, then curl up in her lap to comfort her.
After a heartbeat, her shoulders slump in defeat. “I’m not a normal shifter.”
Dante and the prisoner snort at the same time, while Garth just seems content to be in the same car as her, waiting patiently for her to continue. I flash her my most gentle smile, silently coaxing her to continue. “If you hadn’t guessed, neither are we. We are outcasts even to our own kind—rejects that no one wants. We are a threat to their perfect world.”
My smile fades as the years of moving from one place to the next weigh heavily on me, never having a home, friends, or family. It’s a lonely, solitary existence—pure torture for a shifter who yearns for a pack. I’m not sure how much longer we can continue without going insane. We’re balanced on a precarious edge, and I fear we have only months or less before we crack and chaos reigns.
Frankie’s expression softens at my confession, understanding flashing in her eyes, and I clench my hands into fists at the thought of her enduring the same life.
It’s harsh and unforgiving, not something she should ever have to endure.
She taps her fingers against the steering wheel, but I wait her out. Charming someone for answers is all about timing. Push too hard, and they won’t say shit. They have to think it’s their decision to share.
“I’ve lived most of my life in seclusion, following strict rules in place for my safety. Failure means imprisonment or death. The people who rule…er, the territory…decide what you get to eat, where you live, who you mate, who can breed, what job you are qualified to perform, and so much more.” She waves a hand in the air, as if to brush away the information as inconsequential. “Every aspect of our lives is controlled. Unfortunately, I’m not one to follow edicts blindly. When I turned twenty, I was supposed to turn myself over so my fate could be decided. I refused.”
The corner of her eye twitches as her anger bleeds through. The smell of sunshine and lemons perfumes the car, and damned if I don’t huff the air like a salivating beast. None of the men are unaffected. Even the prisoner inhales deeply.
“I didn’t need them to tell me my future. I’ve known since my first shift that I was different, and differences are not something that are tolerated.” Her grip tightens on the steering wheel, andshe releases a shuddering breath. “The choices were either fight to get free or die trying. The man who raised me did his best to train me for that future.”
The prisoner stiffens, the chains rattling slightly, but he remains quiet, as engrossed in the story as the rest of us, afraid that if we interrupt her, she might stop speaking.
“We had plans to escape, we only needed a few more days, but I fucked up. I saved a boy from a beating and drew attention to myself. I thought we had more time, but they came for me after I returned home. I had been marked a criminal.” She rubs her chest, as if the memories pain her, and my throat tightens in horror.
“They had an arrest warrant for me. My fate was sealed.” A single tear slides down her cheek. She dashes it away, then clears her throat. “Gramps drew his sword and told me to run. I…couldn’t. I couldn’t leave him to fight alone. I thought we could battle our way free, then run.
“Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware they had called reinforcements. We were doomed from the start. When he yelled at me to go a second time, I was unable to fight the alpha command.” A snort of derision escapes her, her fangs flashing as she speaks, her voice echoing with hatred. “Even though I managed to escape, they have since sent more soldiers after me. I’ve been zigzagging across the country, accepting odd jobs and dodging hunters. Without a destination in mind, I’ve been able to keep a step or two ahead of them, but it’s only a matter of time before they kill me.”
“The orders are to take you alive,” the prisoner murmurs, his expression hard and unblinking.
Frankie shakes her head, refusing to even glance at him. “That might be their plan, but that’s not mine. I won’t go back. I’ll die first.”
The thought of her ceasing to exist has my claws slicing through the tips of my fingers, puncturing the ratty upholstery. A growl rumbles in my chest, and I glare at the fucker in the front seat, the need to rip out his throat and bathe in his blood nearly impossible to resist. “Then why the fuck is he still alive?”
