I salivated as I passed the Goats On The Roof Pub. The delicious aroma of their Friday fish fry tickled my nose as I passed by the restaurant, dodging a car that was attempting to parallel park in a spot on the street just in front of the building.
With the exceptions of the restaurants and pubs, all other stores and buildings had closed on main street, but the hum of conversation dripped from the eateries, and the windows glowed with a pleasant light as I passed them, making my way to the empty park.
One of the swings swung, creaking in a totally not creepy way even though no one was on the equipment, but I ignored it as I marched across the park lawn, joining up with the paved path I took home.
I followed the paved path out of Timber Ridge and into the tree line, diving into the forest.
What do I have to eat? I think there’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, or some chili in the freezer, but I’d have to thaw that.
I’d also have to feed the cats, but the question was, did I need to feed them before I got a chance to eat?
If I don’t, there’s a big possibility they’ll do something bratty…
I paused when I picked up on my hunter senses spiking. I lifted my head up and strained my ears as I listened.
Then I felt it, the cold blast of a wolf closing in.
It was moving fast, but erratically.
That’s not a Northern Lakes wolf.
I flung my backpack off and got my daggers out. I tucked my fingers to my mouth and made the shrill, specific whistle that I used in lieu of a wolf howl, and still had just enough time to turn around and face the incoming wolf head on.
Dolph, the Alpha of the Low Marsh Pack, stepped out of the trees. His beard was longer than the last time I’d seen him, and based on the greasiness of his hair, I didn’t know that he’d showered since I’d last seen him, either.
“Phillipa Sabre,” he said.
His brown eyes seemed a little glassy, and the smile on his lips was creepy enough to make my spine shiver as he strolled toward me.
“What do you want?” I put my back to a tree, preparing myself to climb.
“Retribution,” he said. “I told you I’d come for it.”
I snorted. “So you attack me instead of Greyson—who actually killed your guy? Yeah, that’s retribution, for sure.”
Dolph wiped his hands off on his grease-stained jeans and licked his lips. “Nah, you see, if we get you, it’ll hit your Alpha hard, so I get my revenge on you both.”
“And you think no one is going to suspect you? Dream on.” I adjusted my hold on my daggers as I watched his legs, studying the way he crouched. “The Northern Lakes Pack will raze you to the ground.”
He lunged, but I was prepared for it, and shot up the tree, yanking my feet out of reach as I juggled my daggers—I had plenty of practice holding them while climbing.
Once I was safely situated, I whistled again—though it was a pretty bad sign no one had come yet.
That meant either no one heard me, or maybe Dolph had brought extra wolves…
I clung to the trunk, honing in on my senses, then cursed when I felt two more cold blasts.
Fantastic. He has backup.
“Nope, we can’t have you cheating like that.” Dolph set a hand on my tree and peered up at me, his eyes glowing. “Come down, hunter.”
“Do you seriously think I’m that stupid?” I called down to him. “Or is it just that you are so stupid you think that’ll work?”
Dolph laughed. “No, I know exactly how your mind works. So come down, or else my friend here will go pay a visit to downtown Timber Ridge.”
Another wolf stepped out of the shadows—this one was a woman with rusty brown hair and a mean look in her green eyes. She seemed already half feral as she snarled at me, and my heart fell.
She could tear through an entire restaurant or pub before the Pack realizes what’s going on. And I left my cellphone in my backpack, so I can’t call Aeric or Wyatt.
I seriously needed to get a Bluetooth headset. Or maybe one of those fancy phone watches. Hands free devices were underrated.
“Come down, Phillipa,” Dolph repeated in a harder voice. “Unless you want human blood on your hands.”
He has to be bluffing. Greyson would legally be allowed to kill him if he did something like that, and the supernatural community in general would stamp the Pack out for doing such a thing.
But…his eyes had the same glassy look as the wolf I’d fought.
If he was taking wolfsbane, there was a good chance he was half feral and wouldn’t think the consequences through.