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Page 45
Page 45
Then, the full moon came.
Chapter 20
I should have known something was coming. There was evidence all over the place, and my instincts were screaming out in warning, yet I ignored them in favor of my imaginary world where everything was okay and normal.
It started the day after my birthday. Luckily, the whole removal of Scout from the Hagan Pack didn’t translate into the removal of Scout from the Hagan family, which meant I was now the owner of a spumoni cake and detailed family tree, thanks to Gramma Hagan, world’s most devoted baker and ancestry buff. Angel and I were sitting around scarfing down the final pieces of the cake while watching Fish Hooks. My sister was convinced I needed to watch it to learn the finer points of friendship, a skill she found me lacking.
“There is someone in the woods,” Angel announced as she angled her spoon towards my plate.
“Nice try, Munchkin, but no. Eat your chocolate and cherry layers and leave my pistachio alone.”
Her lower lip jutted out. “But I don’t have any.”
“Because you ate it already.” The kid was a menace. She had somehow finagled both Talley and Charlie out of their pistachio cake the night before. “Try the cherry. It’s delicious.” I took a big bite of mine and made the appropriate sounds for experiencing culinary excellence.
Angel’s face lit up. “I’ll trade you my cherry layer for your pistachio.”
“No deal.”
“But—”
“Eat it or I’ll take it.” It was getting near the full moon, so my appetite was similar to that of an Olympic swimmer combined with a sumo wrestler.
Angel dug in, pouting with every scrumptious bite. As she ate, her attention returned to the French doors leading to the back yard.
“There is still someone in the woods. Is it deer season?”
“No, and you can stop with the ‘someone is in the woods’ routine. I’ve already eaten my pistachio, so there is no more green cake for you to steal.”
“But there is someone in the woods,” she whined. “Look.”
I followed her pointer finger out to the woods with my eyes. At first I didn’t see anything, and was about to say as much, when a low bush rustled even though there was no wind to speak of.
“Do you see—?”
“Shhh…” I strained to hear something, but even with my super-ears I couldn’t pick up anything from so far away. I got up to move closer to the door. As soon as I did, there was another rustle of bushes, and then what could have been movement in the dense trees.
“You see him, right?” I shot her a look. “You see him, right?” she repeated, this time in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It was probably just a deer or raccoon.”
Angel shook her head, eyes wide. “Nope. I saw an arm.”
It’s a testament to just how much I hate Fish Hooks that I decided we needed to investigate. It was another twenty minutes before we made it to the spot where Angel’s man with an arm had been seen since I had to wait for her to put on her “undercover” outfit, which consisted of black leggings, a Team Ninja t-shirt, and her black snow boots.
“See, someone has been here.” She held back a branch with one hand while the other perched on her hip. “The grass is all smoosheded down.”
“Which is exactly what would have happened if a deer took a nap there.” And that was the smell I was getting. Sorta. It was like a deer, but all chemically. And underneath the scent I thought I could detect another scent, but it was hard pick out from the other. Without thinking, I got down on my knees and pressed my nose to the grass.
“Scout, are you smelling the ground?”
“Ummm… Maybe?” My brain scrambled for an explanation a seven year old would believe. “I saw a guy on the National Geographic channel do this once. He said plants absorb the smells of soaps and laundry detergents.”
The lie worked a little too well. Soon Angel was down on the ground beside me, swearing she could smell green soap and the laundry stuff with the scary bear on it. After a bit more forensic work, which included tasting a leaf she assured me was wild mint, Angel declared we were being stalked by Perez Hilton.
I ordered her back to the house and made a note to limit the amount of entertainment news she watched.
I didn’t completely forget the whole someone-may-be-in-the-woods incident, but I didn’t give it too much thought either. It was strange, but what wasn’t these days? And even when I started getting that creepy someone-is-watching-me feeling me every time I went anywhere, I didn’t start worrying. After all, I’m Scout Donovan. With my freakazoid looks and the drama from April, getting stared at in public is a day to day occurrence.
No, it didn’t cross my mind to be concerned until I was halfway through the Change. One thing I hadn’t noticed in my previous two Changes was how much my sense of smell improved as I shifted from Human Scout to Wolf Scout, possibly because I was too busy trying not to die. This time it was obvious. The smell came to me slowly, getting sharper and sharper the further I went in my transition.
Talley, we have a problem, I said as soon as I could form a coherent thought.
“The food is to your left, Scout. Just use your nose.”
We have company.
There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the Shifter/Seer network. “Scout, he’s not here…”
It’s not the same smell as before. Although, I could have sworn that one was there too, but I was desperately trying to ignore it. Shifters. More than one. They’ve been through here recently, and I think they’re still close by.
“Do you recognize anyone?”
No, they’re… My wolf brain searched for the right word. Not family. Predators. Enemies. A breeze blew through the night, carrying the scent of the unwelcome Shifters. They were just west of me, the exact same direction…
Talley, do you have your gun? Charlie and Jase insisted we keep them on us any time we left the house. When I noted our lack of a concealed weapons license, Charlie produced one for each of us two days later. His eyes told me not to ask any questions, so I didn’t. Instead, Talley and I started carrying Vash and Gilbert in our purses at all times. At least, I prayed it was at all times.
“It’s in the car.”
Get it. And stay in the car. Keep the gun out and shoot anyone or anything that gets close enough.