PAPPAS PROWLED the length of powdered silver on the ground. He snarled at the sight of me, hackles raised.
Ox roared at him with everything he had.
His violet eyes flickered, and I thought maybe he—
No.
They flared again.
He was lost.
“We’ll have to deal with him,” Mark told me later, staring off into nothing. “We can’t risk him hurting anyone or spreading whatever’s in his bite. We’ll have to deal with him. Soon.”
I wanted nothing more than to burn the world down.
WE MADE our way through the snow. The trees were heavy in white around us. Ox and Joe had shifted, leaving large paw prints behind them. Mark walked on two legs beside me as we trailed behind the wolves.
It was still snowing, but it wasn’t coming down as hard as it’d been the day before. The sky above was a dark gray, and the morning sun was hidden somewhere behind the clouds. I knew the moon was there too, widening toward fat and full. I wasn’t a wolf, but even I could feel it.
Carter had complained about being left behind, saying he was Joe’s second, therefore he should go to face the witches. Joe had looked as if he were about to give in, but Elizabeth intervened, and without her saying a word, it was understood that Carter wasn’t going anywhere. He’d sighed but slumped back against Kelly, who hadn’t gone more than a few feet from his brother since they’d woken up.
Robbie volunteered to accompany us, but Ox had told him to stay. He didn’t want Michelle’s people to play games with his head.
Birds called out, singing in the trees.
The ice crunched underneath our feet.
Our breath billowed around us.
Mark said, “Your father.”
“My father,” I muttered, stepping over a tree that had fallen years before.
“In your head.”
“Right.”
“Is that normal?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, sure. Wolves going crazy. Jesus-freak hunters. Betrayal from on high. Dear old Dad in my head. Sure, Mark. Everything about this is normal.”
“Why, though?”
“Why what?” I asked, watching the massive wolves walk ahead of us, their tails brushing together.
“Why is he in your head?”
“Because he has boundary issues?”
Mark squinted at me. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“I don’t fucking know, Mark. I haven’t seen him since I was a kid and he murdered sixteen people along with my mother after she murdered the woman he was having an affair with.”
Mark snorted. “So. Pretty normal, then.”
I gaped at him. “Are you seriously deciding that now is a good time to try and find a sense of humor?”
“I’ve always been funny.”