When more howls echo behind us, we sprint ahead at full speed. Slowing, we emerge from the woods, ducking under police caution tape, but it’s not until we’re on the road leading to Ethan’s dad’s house that I allow myself to semi-relax.
“Are…they…following us?” I start.
“I don’t think they’ll come this close to the road. Too many cars.”
We inch forward and bright headlights from a car blind me. Lungs burning, I feel like I’m suffocating when I try to take in air. Hunter’s cold nose presses into my hand, calming me. By the time we reach the road, I can breathe again. We have a few blocks to walk before we get to Ethan’s dad’s house, and the wind picks up blowing rain into my face. My breath clouds around me, and I wonder if it’s cold enough for frostbite.
The modern-farmhouse house never looked as welcoming as it does right now. A yellow glow shines through the front window. Water splashes under our feet as we hurry up the porch steps. Ethan retrieves the key from his pocket and opens the door.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“I was halfway here when my dad said Isaac would only talk after they took him out for dinner.”
“He sounds pleasant,” I grumble and Ethan laughs.
“He’s a grumpy old man, that’s for sure.”
Hunter shakes water off his fur before coming in, and I step in behind him, shivering.
“Sorry I got you into this mess,” I tell Ethan through chattering teeth as I unzip my coat. It’s dripping with water. I hold it in front of me, trying to catch the drops that patter onto the hardwood floor.
“If it wasn’t this mess it would be another,” he starts, peeling off his own wet jacket. “And I’d rather be in it with you than anyone else.” We go upstairs and into his bedroom, where he pulls a laundry basket from his closet, stripping out of his wet clothes, standing before me in only his boxers. I can’t help but notice how beautiful a man he is.
I throw my jacket on top of his clothes and struggle with the button on my jeans, my fingers too cold to work right. My cheeks are warm from running, and my body is an annoying mixture of hot and cold. Trembling, I peel the wet denim from my legs and pull my sweater over my head.
“Want to take a shower?” Ethan asks.
“That sounds wonderful.” Ethan grabs my hand and leads me into the bathroom. He turns the shower on and pulls the curtain closed, waiting for the water to warm up. “You could have been killed, Anora.”
“But I wasn’t,” I counter, though I know how close we came. “Hunter,” I start, able to sense him in the living room below us.
“Is your familiar,” Ethan finishes. “Him killing a Pricolici makes sense now.”
“I didn’t know they looked like that…like…like ghosts,” I say, thinking of the black shadow. “My book called them spirits who bond with witches, aiding them in their magic. I assumed it meant a friendly black cat would help me pick out which herbs to burn for good luck, not have a killer German Shepherd that can rip apart demons.”
Ethan tests the temperature of the water and I suddenly remember Daisy, Aunt Estelle’s German Shepherd. It was a female dog, just like Harrison said. She was a retired show dog, adopted after years of being relentlessly bred.
And she looked just like Hunter.
“The book said they take on a familiar shape, which is how they got the name, familiar. My aunt had a German Shepherd. It wasn’t magical, but I liked her,” I say slowly as the memory comes back. “She really liked peanut butter, and Harrison and I wanted a dog, but our parents wouldn’t let us get one since they weren’t home enough.”
“So, he took on the form of the dog you wanted.”
"Yeah,” I say and feel a little emotional again when I think about my beloved pup—who’s not a pup at all. Steam from the shower starts to billow out at us. Ethan pulls back the curtain and we step in.
“I know things fucking suck right now,” Ethan says, pulling the curtain closed. Hot water pours down on me, and Ethan’s hands go to my waist. “But it’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay.”
I nod, believing him. I will be okay, somehow, I just know it. But it’s not me I’m worried about.
Chapter Thirty
I wake up alone in Ethan’s bed, with Hunter sleeping on a folded blanket on the floor next to me. The door to the room is shut, and Ethan left his closet light on so I wouldn’t wake in pitch black. Since my clothes are wet and in the laundry, I wrap the comforter around myself and go to Ethan’s dresser, pulling out a pair of athletic pants. They’re way too big of course, and I roll up the waistband a few times and hope they don’t fall down. I feel a little invasive rustling through his closet, finding a black t-shirt to pull over my head.