Hot Blooded (Wolf Springs Chronicles #2) (20 page)

What?
she wondered. The rest of the pack would rip them to shreds. Or at least her, since her grandfather might already be in jail for murder.

She stared at the wall of trophy animal heads. What happened to a werewolf when they died? Did they look like a wolf, or a human? For one crazy second she imagined Mr. Fenner’s human head mounted on her grandfather’s wall and she was sickened by the thrill that rushed through her.

I hate him
, she realized.
I hate him for sending Cordelia away, for threatening me and my grandfather and Trick
. A low rumble started in her chest and she shook her head hard, trying to calm herself down.

She moved swiftly into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She was completely losing it, torn between rising fright and a wild, hysterical giddiness. The rumble was getting louder as she brought the glass to her lips.

She downed the glass of water and then stood for a moment, spooked by her own reflection in the window. White face, black holes for eyes. The growling seemed to have died down, but the hatred for Mr. Fenner still burned bright.

And she wanted so badly to tell her grandfather everything. He was strong; maybe he could protect them both.

Head thrown back, she gulped down another glass of water.

What if he shot Justin?

Her heart stopped for a moment.

I’m crazy. If he knows about werewolves, he has those silver bullets for one reason and one reason only. To kill us. How do I know he wouldn’t kill me, too?

She thought of the silver trap in the forest that she had fallen into. Had her grandfather put it there?

The room tilted crazily and lightning billowed against the gingham curtains. She put her glass in the sink and made her way upstairs. Shivering, she changed into dry pajamas and lay down on her bed, misery coursing through her as she stared up at the skylight.

It was just too dangerous.

She couldn’t tell him.

Not ever.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Silver girl, silver girl, let me come in.

Peering down through the skylight.

Creeping down the hall.

Opening the door.

Click.

Click.

Click.

“What?” Katelyn said blearily as she sat up. She could see her breath, and when she looked up she saw that the skylight was completely covered with snow.

She had taken off her soaking wet pajamas and laid them on towels on the floor; they were still ice-cold and still wet. If she had hung them in the bathroom, her grandfather would have known that she’d gone outside.

She dressed in jeans and a sweater, realizing she felt the cold, and raced downstairs. Mordecai was putting a log on the fire, which crackled and roared. She was surprised that she felt the cold so intensely and it drove her over to stand in front of it next to him. The radiating warmth began to thaw her slightly.

“Good morning,” her grandfather said.

She nodded. “Why is it so cold?” She walked over to the window and stared outside.

Snow, everywhere. The dreaded winter had finally come.

She leaned her head against the windowpane and strangled back a sob.
What happens when the full moon comes in a couple of weeks?
She took a moment to steady herself. Her grandfather came to stand beside her and she stole a glance at him.
What do you know? What’s going on?
she wanted to scream at him. But she stayed quiet.

“Are we snowed in?” she asked.

“Naw,” he said with a chuckle. “Higher up the mountain got a lot of snow, but this isn’t bad. Just means it’s time to put chains on your car. You ever done that?”

She shook her head. She’d seen her dad do it once when she was a kid on a trip to Lake Tahoe, but that was it.

“I’ll teach you,” he said.

A low rumbling sound reached her ears.
Oh no, why am I growling?
she thought. It took her a breathless moment to realize that the sound wasn’t coming from her, but from outside.

“What’s that sound?” she asked.

He cocked his head as though listening. She mentally smacked her forehead.
Of course, he probably can’t hear it. He isn’t a werewolf.

A moment passed, then another. The rumbling grew louder, sounding mechanical in some way.

Finally he nodded. “Sounds like Trick’s car.” He looked at her intently. “Sharp ears,” he muttered.

Trick was coming. There were silver bullets in the garage, Justin was spying on her, and now Trick.

A minute later, his Mustang pulled up outside the cabin. Katelyn watched from the window as he got out. He was wearing a black sweater and black pants, and he looked sleek, like a panther.

He walked up the steps and she went to answer the door. Despite everything, she felt a tingle of anticipation as she let him in.

“Mornin’,” Trick said. He kicked the snow off his boots on the mat, took them off, and walked inside.

“Coffee?” Mordecai said, appearing from the kitchen with a mug.

“You know I never refuse free coffee,” Trick said, taking the mug and sipping the hot liquid. “Or free food.”

It was such a blatant hint about breakfast that Katelyn cracked a smile. Her grandfather shook his head and disappeared back into the kitchen.

“So, what’s up?” Katelyn asked, sounding brisk and curt. If Trick noticed, he gave no indication.

“You ever been sledding?” he asked.

“They had a snow hill at the L.A. Zoo at Christmas,” she replied. “It was killer.”

He snorted. “That was just stunt snow. This is real snow. First snow, and we’re going farther up the mountain to take advantage of it.”

“No clothes,” she informed him.

“Brought some.”

This is crazy
, she thought, but it was just her insane double life come calling again.

He must have seen her make the decision to go, for he grinned at her and said, “I should warn you, I pack a mean snowball.”

“Bring it, Vladimir,” she taunted him, using his hated first name.

“Oh, I will, Katelyn. I’ll go get your stuff.”

She watched him from the porch. He really was gorgeous; she let herself stare and couldn’t help but feel the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile.

The world was snowy and beautiful, tree branches frosted with ice and sprinkled with powdery white. There were chains on Trick’s tires and the trunk was half open, exposing two old-fashioned wooden sleds secured inside with bungee cords.

Her grandfather waved from the porch. “Come back in one piece.”

“I will,” Trick said as he moved to the car.

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

Katelyn couldn’t help but snicker as she got into the Mustang.

A minute later they were on their way. She sat back against the seat and looked out the window at the receding cabin.
Silver bullets. In our garage
. Were there also werewolf pelts?

She shuddered hard. Trick must have seen her do it.

“Yo?” he said.

“Just thinking.” She looked over, trying to read him.

“You don’t have to be this nervous,” he said. “Packed snow only leaves minor bruising.”

“I’m not nervous.”

He didn’t reply.

“How well do you know my grandfather?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Trick raised a brow. “He’s my godfather. I was born in your cabin. And what with my folks being away on business so much, we’ve spent a whole lot of time together over the years.”

She stared at him, assuming he was joking. She didn’t know anyone who had a godfather. Images of Mafia guys in trench coats rose in her mind. “C’mon.”

He shrugged. “I’m serious. My middle name is Mordecai.”

She gaped at him, thrown, not sure what to do with the new information. Aware of how little she really knew about Trick. And now she realized it, he rarely mentioned his parents. She knew they were rich, very rich — but they were also very busy, flying all over the country for his dad’s design business — and she had been amazed when going to Trick’s place for a party to discover that he had his own building on their property. “How come I didn’t know this?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought you did know.” He smiled at her. “We’re practically related. But luckily, not technically.” He cocked his head. “Does it bother you for some reason?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Why would it?”

“You tell me.” He winked at her. “Because, hello? It is bothering you. It’s cool, Katelyn. We share no common genes. Our offspring will be healthy.”

She made a show of sputtering with indignation and gently punching his shoulder. But that was all it was, a show. Inside, she was working things out. That helped explain why he came over all the time, and all the conversations they’d had on the porch. And why her grandfather trusted him to take care of Katelyn.

If only my grandfather knew that I got bitten by a werewolf on Trick’s watch
, she thought.
After he hid out in his car at Sam’s party and told me to go away.

Then they were driving on a road she’d never been on before, climbing toward the mountaintops. Snow flurries fluttered against the windshield, and glittered in the sunshine.

“You’re having so many private conversations you could be schizophrenic,” he drawled.

She was saved from having to answer as Trick guided the car to the side of the road and killed the engine. Back in California they wouldn’t have just stopped wherever it struck their fancy. There would be a formal park, with a blacktop lot for the car, and drinking fountains and signs.

He opened the door and put on his cowboy hat. As he went around in front of the Mustang, he held up his hand, signaling for her to wait in the car, then when he got to her side of the vehicle, he stomped his boots hard and she realized he was tamping down the snow for her. Satisfied, he opened the car and held out his hand.

She took it, and as he helped her out he grabbed a handful of slushy snow from the roof of the car and slid it down her back. She shrieked and batted at him, laughing as he trotted backwards. He yanked his cowboy hat off and used it as a shield as she gathered up snow with both hands and flung it at him. He jockeyed back and forth, taunting her, guffawing as she kicked snow at him, then headed straight for him.

“Crazy girl on the loose!” he cried, easily sidestepping her.

“Who are you calling crazy?” she demanded as she wheeled around for another attack. She started to put on a burst of speed, then reined herself in as she remembered that she couldn’t draw attention to her enhanced abilities.

Trick raced up a hill, cackling in triumph. Then, as she pretended to struggle to catch up with him, he hung a U-turn, soaring back down on the other side of a stand of evergreens. She tried to get to him, but he was too fast. He reached the car and unfastened the sleds, loping back to meet her as he trailed them behind on the ground.

Panting, she fell in beside him. He reached in his jacket and handed her a pair of black waterproof gloves.

“Forgot to bring you some,” he said. “Use mine.”

“Oh, no, I’m not—” She was about to tell him that she wasn’t cold. Just this morning, she’d been very chilly in the cabin. But now, she was just fine. Of course, she should be freezing, plus it was so sweet of him. “Thank you.” She put the gloves on, which were miles too big for her hands, and wiggled her fingers at him.

At the top of the hill, he set the sleds down side by side. They were made of wood standing on wicked-looking curved blades to cut through ice and snow. The incline sheered downward, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

“You’re not scared, are you?” he asked.

She scoffed. “Preposterous,” she said.

“That’s a mighty big word, little lady,” he drawled. “Care to back it up with some runs down the mountain?”

“Mountain, hah. This is a bunny slope.” She cocked her head. “Do you sit down or lie down?”

“Whatever it takes. Not a lot of rules in sledding.”

He sat on his sled, then chuckled as she hesitantly copied him. She picked up a loop of rope.

“That’s how you steer. Pull this way, you go to the left.”

She pulled on the rope, then jerked her head over at him. “Don’t, like, give me a push to get started or anything, okay?”

“Don’t think that’s how it works with you,” he teased. Then he dug his snow boots into the whiteness and pushed off, and began to angle down. Watching him, she decided it didn’t look so bad, and did the same.

And she went fast, very fast; she left silver bullets and the Hellhound and the Fenners behind as she screamed with a combination of alarm and exhilaration. The sled picked up even more speed, and Trick shouted out, “Whoa, whoa, Katelyn!”

Faster.

“You’re on ice!” he bellowed. “Just steer straight!”

She shrieked, laughing, realizing she was going to fly past him. How the heck was she going to stop?

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Lean backward. Try to drag your feet!”

Instead she reflexively yanked on the rope, way too hard. The sled zoomed sharply to the right and Katelyn tumbled off, face first, into the snow. She burst into a cascade of relieved guffaws, laughing so hard she couldn’t move.

“Oh, my God,” Trick said, stricken.

She kept laughing, helplessly, until he reached her and cautiously rolled her onto her back. All she could see were his green eyes as he bent over her and wiped the snow off her face.

“Are you okay? Are you all right?” he demanded.

She nodded, still laughing. “Ice on my side of the hill, huh? How
convenient
—”

Trick slid his hands under her neck and upper back, lifting her from the snow, and kissed her. His lips pressed against hers and he gasped, then he eased his tongue into her mouth. Pleasurable explosions burst at the small of her back and fanned out everywhere — her toes, her cheeks, the top of her head. She couldn’t believe how good it felt, but it went beyond physical sensation to a sweet, deep joy. This was Trick, smart and quirky and yes, scary and unpredictable, but it was Trick. She hadn’t kissed him in almost a month, and she had missed him, missed this. So much.