Rift (47 page)

His scent told me my thoughts weren’t far off the mark, his skin snapping with adrenaline and the musk that belied desire. I’d let this encounter last much too long, stepped well beyond the line of safe conduct. With regret nipping at me, I balled my fist. My eyes moved up and down his body, assessing, remembering the feeling of his lips on my skin. He smiled hesitantly.

Enough.

I caught him across the jaw with a single blow. He dropped to the ground and didn’t move again. I bent down and gathered the boy in my arms, slinging his backpack over my shoulder. The scent of green meadows and dew-kissed tree limbs flowed around me, flooding me with that strange ache that coiled low in my body, a physical reminder of my brush with treachery. Twilight shadows stretched farther up the mountain, but I’d have him at the base by dusk.

A lone, battered pickup was parked near the rippling waterway that marked the boundary of the sacred site. Black signs with bright orange lettering were posted along the creek bank:

NO TRESPASSING. PRIVATE PROPERTY.

The Ford Ranger was unlocked. I flung open the door, almost pulling it from the rust-bitten vehicle. I draped the boy’s limp form across the driver’s seat. His head slumped forward and I caught the stark outline of a tattoo on the back of his neck. A dark, bizarrely inked cross.

A trespasser and trend hound. Thank God I found something not to like about him.

I hurled his pack onto the passenger seat and slammed the door. The truck’s steel frame groaned. Still trembling with frustration, I shifted into wolf form and darted back into the forest. His scent clung to me, blurring my sense of purpose. I sniffed the air and cringed, a new scent bringing my treachery into stark relief.

I know you’re here.
A snarl traveled with my thought.

Are you okay?
Bryn’s plaintive question only made fear bite harder into my trembling muscles. In the next moment she ran beside me.

I told you to leave.
I bared my teeth but couldn’t deny my sudden relief at her presence.

I could never abandon you.
Bryn kept pace easily.
And you know I’ll never betray you.

I picked up speed, darting through the deepening shadows of the forest. I abandoned my attempt to outrun fear, shifted forms, and stumbled forward until I found the solid pressure of a tree trunk. The scratch of the bark on my skin failed to repel the gnat-like nerves that swarmed in my head.

“Why did you save him?” she asked. “Humans mean nothing to us.”

I kept my arms around the tree but turned my cheek to the side so I could look at Bryn. No longer in her wolf form, the short, wiry girl’s hands rested on her hips. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for an answer.

I blinked, but I couldn’t halt the burning sensation. A pair of tears, hot and unwanted, slid down my cheeks.

Bryn’s eyes widened. I never cried. Not when anyone could witness it.

I turned my face away, but I could sense her watching me silently, without judgment. I had no answers for Bryn. Or for myself.

By Andrea Cremer

NIGHTSHADE

WOLFSBANE

BLOODROSE

• Also by Andrea Cremer
  
• Title Page
  
• Copyright
  
• Dedication
  
• Epigraph
  
• ONE
  
• TWO
  
• THREE
  
• FOUR
  
• FIVE
  
• SIX
  
• SEVEN
  
• EIGHT
  
• NINE
  
• TEN
  
• ELEVEN
  
• TWELVE
  
• THIRTEEN
  
• FOURTEEN
  
• FIFTEEN
  
• SIXTEEN
  
• SEVENTEEN
  
• EIGHTEEN
  
• NINETEEN
  
• TWENTY
  
• TWENTY-ONE
  
• TWENTY-TWO
  
• TWENTY-THREE
  
• TWENTY-FOUR
  
• TWENTY-FIVE
  
• TWENTY-SIX
  
• TWENTY-SEVEN
  
• TWENTY-EIGHT
  
• TWENTY-NINE
  
• THIRTY
  
• THIRTY-ONE
  
• THIRTY-TWO
  
• THIRTY-THREE
  
• Special Excerpt: Rise
  
• Special Excerpt: Nightshade