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The pinpricks in my hands faded away, and I opened my eyes again. I was okay, for now.
“Man, don’t talk to me like it would have been so goddamn easy for you. She’s got a demon in her or something. Could be the damned Devil himself for all I know. But I don’t mind telling you that bitch put the fear of God in me.”
A slow, cold smile crossed my lips.
Good.
“They’ve all got demons in them. That’s what he’s been telling us all this time. You gotta let the demon out. Gotta purify the body. You had one job, and you let that thing get away.”
“We can use one of the other ones.” This from the third man who hadn’t yet said anything. “The one in jail, or the one who hit you. They’d work, right?” He sounded nervous, and I got the feeling he wanted to keep the other men from going for each other’s throats.
“Tim likes the girls more. Says they’re better for it since it was Eve’s mess to begin with. Women always letting sin in.”
Oh, goodie. Not only were they vile werewolf haters, they also subscribed to the all women are dirty and responsible for sin school of thought. I loved these guys. If I waited long enough, I bet they’d have some charming things to say about Cash too.
I briefly considered what the man had said.
Tim likes the girls more.
Go figure.
How could these guys not see that their beloved leader was basically Charles Manson with a boner for female werewolves? He was
convincing his followers we were evil and an affront to God. And then he was getting them to kill whatever wolves he could get his hands on.
Ten.
Ten other werewolves.
And he wasn’t content to murder us in private anymore. He had to make the whole world believe we were killers.
The truth was everyone was capable of murder, human and werewolf alike. Timothy was proving that was true of his own people. And he was trying to make people believe it of Hank, who probably had killed people. But I still wasn’t ready to put that girl’s death on him.
Deerling’s people were willing to kill for him, and one of them had been willing to die for him.
It was too messed up to wrap my head around.
We were supposed to be the monsters?
Their voices started moving towards the house, distracted as they fought over alternative sacrifices. I needed to get back to Wilder. We had to collect Hank and get the hell out of Franklinton like now. The means didn’t have to be legal. I’d break Hank out myself if need be.
When the front door of the house closed, I got up. I was on borrowed time. They wanted me, not the others, and they knew I was on foot. Chances were good they had another car around somewhere, and if I didn’t haul ass, it wouldn’t be long before they found me.
I saw a driveway leading away from the house.
With one last overcautious glance at the porch, I ran towards the dirt road. I sprinted full tilt, the hunting knife still clutched in one hand as I pumped my arms and prayed like hell the highway would come before my would-be killers spotted me.
My lungs burned and my brain screamed at me, but I didn’t listen to my body’s protestations. There wasn’t time for weakness, and pain was just the body being weak.
The main highway appeared so suddenly I was out in the middle of it before I even realized I’d arrived. A sedan blared its horn at me and swerved to avoid plowing me over. I heard, “Crazy bitch” howled into the night air, but he didn’t stop.
Cash’s car was gone, not that I expected Wilder to be out here waiting for me, but I hadn’t actually considered another way to get back to Franklinton.
Hitchhiking was out of the question. Deerling had the people in town wrapped around his little finger, and it was too dark for me to be able to see trouble coming.
At least I had my bearings now. I knew which way I had to go to get back.
I hobbled into the ditch, ready to hide in the trees at the slightest indication of headlights.
