Oh no! Oh, God. Oh no!
Its growl competed with the hiss of the thing behind her, two huge beasts bearing down on her. The gate swam into focus, five feet away. Three.
The wolf lunged. Graceful death.
Time slowed down.
She reached for that electricity. For that flare of light she had somehow caused.
Nothing happened.
Canine teeth were bared, paws spread wide as the wolf flew through the air. Her heart rang through her ears.
The next growl ended in a sickening crunch of bone. The wolf had slammed into the creature behind her.
More wolves followed the first—huge, agile animals running through the yard. Their fierce growls filled the night air, interspersed with angry screeches. Charity didn’t know if they were fighting each other or not, but the distraction gave her a little cover.
Staggering like a drunk trying to pass a sobriety test, she lurched through the door and into the front yard, turning to her right. Hope filled every inch of her being, fighting the desperation. But instead of finding Devon, all she found was another large wolf.
A cry wrestled with her newest scream. The beast snarled, its lips pulling back from large canines. It loped forward, on the attack.
She turned toward the cars.
A giant black wolf blocked her way.
Its lips pulled back from its teeth in a silent snarl. It took a quick step-jump, ready to attack, only to hesitate at the last moment. Its head dropped, assessing her in that way predators sussed out their prey. A soft bark and it circled wide.
She didn’t stop to wonder what was going on. She ran. What else could she do? Blood freezing in dread, she kept going, willing her feet to carry her a little further. If only she could find cover.
No, if only she’d wake up!
Another wolf approached from the right. One more, from the left and slightly in front. They were closing in on her, operating on silent commands. Working together like dancers in a show. She didn’t have much energy left. Lead filled her limbs.
Please wake up…
The gray wolf on the right was the first to lunge. Mouth open, it chomped toward her outstretched arm. She pulled her arm away and swung the other around to punch it in the side. Her fist connected with fur. A blast without fire concussed the air. Light shimmered. The wolf yelped and flew away.
She stared for one beat, unsure what had happened. But another beast was already jumping at her. She dropped Sam’s shoes, still, miraculously, in her hand. She hit this one the same as the first. Once again, the air concussed and the wolf flew away, rolling across the ground like it was caught in a windstorm.
A hole opened up in the circle. Not thinking, she ran at it.
Her moment of relief was short-lived.
Coming at her, mid-leap, was the huge black wolf, graceful and effortless as it barreled into her. Paws hit her shoulders. The weight knocked her backward. Her head smacked the cement. Blackness took over.Chapter TenA bluish glow bathed Charity’s face. Soft material hugged her body. Her mind swam, sleep hanging on, distorting her perception. She blinked in confusion at the rough stone wall rising to her right. It met an equally pockmarked stone ceiling.
She did not like that waking up in odd situations was starting to become a norm.
A rustic light fixture hung on the far wall. A bluish-purple flame, almost like one from a Bunsen burner, danced within the metal casing. But this flame didn’t look controlled. It flickered and moved, alive, like a flame from a torch.
Am I dreaming?
She palmed her forehead, trying to contain the pounding headache, and thought back to her last memory.
A kid’s room. Two twin beds. A nightstand…
Flashes of matted hair and black gums ruined the quaint image.
Enormous wolves.
Fear seeped through her as she envisioned the massive black wolf bearing down on her.
Breathing heavily, she wiped her face and glanced around. Whatever those creatures were, they weren’t here now. There was no screeching or growling—no noise of any kind. It was as silent as a tomb.
Vampires.
She shoved that ridiculous thought away.
Werewolves.
And that one. Those thoughts were absurd. There had to be a logical explanation for what had happened. If vampires and werewolves were real, the human race would know about it. That was a secret too big to keep. Besides, there were about a million stories about vampires, and never once had she heard them described as swampy monsters.
Had it been close to Halloween, there would have been some explanation for the insanity. Unfortunately, it was nearly March. The Easter Bunny wasn’t this messed up.
So. What next?
She glanced around the stone room lit by the strange, flickering flame, then lifted the cushy comforter. Someone had dressed her in sports sweatpants secured with snap buttons and a large T-shirt, probably a man’s. The shirt was clean and white and smelled like cotton. It was a comforting smell and a comforting setup in a non-comforting room.