The Better to Bite (2 page)

His brows snapped together at my words. “What?”

“I know my way home,” I mumbled, aware that my cheeks had to be flushing. I could feel the heat on my face.

“Good.” Though he didn’t sound particularly convinced.

I straightened my shoulders. Sure, I might only be hitting about five foot five and Mr. Strong easily topped six feet, but I wasn’t a pushover.

Despite my screaming run through the woods—
had he seen any of that?
—I knew how to handle myself. Correction—in the city, I did. Out here, maybe I was just fresh meat.

Note to self…get country tough, ASAP.
I cleared my throat, “Who are you?” I asked again, but this time, I made my voice stronger, harder.

He stared at me a moment, and I hoped I didn’t look as bad as I felt. Probably a wasted hope. “Be careful walking in the woods,” he told me, so not giving me his name as he turned and sauntered away. “You never know what’s waiting out here.”

Okay. That had sounded all darkly menacing and dangerous. I brushed off my hands, and blood stained my shorts as I pressed my palms over the material. The guy had saved me from more bruises, possibly even from a broken leg, and he was hot.

So, of course, I just watched him walk away.

I admired the view.

Then, when he was gone, I turned and started jogging back for home. And with every move I made, I felt like I was being watched.

The woods weren’t as interesting anymore. No, now they just seemed dark and dangerous and for once, I was very, very glad to be
different
as I took the shortest route to my new home.

***

My dad was late coming home. I had time to shower, wash the blood out of my shorts, and bandage my arm before I saw the Dawson County Sheriff’s car pull into our graveled drive.

Yeah, my dad’s the new sheriff in town. One day he’s a detective with the Chicago PD. The next…he’s been appointed sheriff here in Haven, South Carolina.

I acted like I was happy for my dad, but the truth was…I couldn’t even remember the last time I was actually happy about anything. Maybe before my mom died?

Not sure…

I smiled for my dad, though. I always did that. I figured why should he worry about me? He worried enough as it was.

Back in the day, my dad grew up here in Haven, South Carolina. Funny, though, he’d never told me about this place. I’d thought he always lived in the city.

Then he’d gotten word that his mother—a lady I’d
never
met,
thanks, Dad—
had passed away. He’d inherited her house here in Haven. He inherited the house one week and received the appointment of the sheriff’s job the next.

Dad said it was all fate.

I didn’t believe in fate. If I did, then I had to believe that I woke up this morning with no choice but to get clawed by a wolf.

No thanks, Fate.

The gravel crunched as Dad came toward me. He was a good-looking guy, or so I’d heard some ladies say when they didn’t think I’d been paying attention. In his early forties, he had short, blond hair and a face that only had a few lines near his eyes. Laugh lines. Despite the work he did, my dad liked to laugh.

But he wasn’t laughing now.

His sheriff’s uniform was a dull brown, but the star he wore on his chest gleamed in the weak light. He held his hat in his hands, and his jaw clenched as he walked toward me.

I knew that hard look on his face too well.

I rose from the porch swing. “What happened?”

My heart pounded too fast. He’d only been on the job for a few days-
four
days—and this gig was supposed to be easy. No stress. No fuss. That was the whole reason we’d left the city.

To escape.

A long sigh slipped past his lips. “They found Sheriff Brantley today.”

Not what I’d expected. “The guy who ran off?” That’s why my dad had been called in to Haven. He and the mayor had once been friends, so my dad said, anyway. When Sheriff Brantley cut out of town, the mayor had been desperate. There’d been no one else ready to take the job, and he’d phoned my dad.

Instant new life…so we thought.

“So—what?” I asked, confused and angry. “The guy decided to walk back into town? The job’s yours now, he can’t just—”

He climbed up the porch steps. “He didn’t walk back in any place.” He ran his fingers through his hair. My dad does that move a lot—usually when he’s worried.

I wasn’t going to like the part that came next. But I just stood there, with my toes curling into the wooden porch and my chin up. The wound on my arm seemed to throb.

“Some kids found Brantley’s body in the woods today.” A rough sigh slipped past his lips. “Or they found what was left of it.”

My stomach clenched.
There weren’t supposed to be any dead bodies here.
This place was supposed to be quiet and safe.

Not filled with wolves and death.

I was starting to think this town wasn’t much of a Haven after all. My hands fisted. “How do you think he died?”

My dad’s eyes, an exact shade of green to match mine, cut toward me. “Hard to say…too much of his body is gone at this point.”

That was just gross and way too much information for me.

“The animals got to him,” he said and all I could picture then was that big wolf, coming at me with his snarls and growls and too-sharp teeth.

I shuddered.

“We won’t know for sure what happened to him, not unless we can find more of his remains.”

I forced my eyes to hold his. I had to say it. “Dad, do you need me to—”

He bounded up the porch steps and pulled me into his arms. “
No!”

Great. The very fast, very adamant response I’d hoped to hear.

“I told you, Anna, things are different now. We’re starting over.” My head was against his chest, so I could feel the rapid beat of his heart. “Both of us are.”

A fresh start, with a dead body thrown in.

Somehow, that didn’t seem so different from my life in the city.

Back home, Dad had made a career out of bringing down killers. The more vicious they were, the harder he hunted them.

Most kids were told bedtime stories about fairytales and castles when they were little. That hadn’t been my life. At night, I’d overheard my dad talking about crime scenes and profiles.

So maybe I’d had more than my share of nightmares because of that cop talk.

No one’s life was perfect, least of all mine.

“We’ll send dogs out into the woods,” my dad said and his hand patted my back. “We’ll find what’s…hell, we’ll find him.”

It didn’t seem like there was much of him to be found.

He pulled back and stared down at me. “Until we figure out what’s happening, I want you staying out of those woods.”

His fingers rested just below my bandage. The wound still ached, and I was pretty sure the blood might be close to leaking through the gauze I’d put on it. “S-sure thing.” My immediate plans didn’t include another hike through the forest.

I pulled away from him before he could find evidence of my earlier slip-away into the woods. No sense worrying him now.

“A bear could’ve done it,” he said, and I saw his gaze dart to the line of trees just behind our house.

I nodded, but I don’t think he even saw the movement. “Maybe—maybe it was a wolf.” Yeah, I blurted again.

His head snapped toward me. He hadn’t missed that mutter.

I forced a shrug. “I heard some howls earlier. It sounded like a few wolves might be running close by.”

“Wolves?” He repeated like I’d spoken Greek. “In Haven?”

“I
heard
them.” And had almost been eaten by one.
My, what big teeth you have…
I already knew who—
what
—would be starring in my nightmares tonight.

“If you see any wolves, you run as fast and as far from them as you can.” A muscle jerked in my Dad’s jaw. “You understand?”

I nodded. “Trust me, if I see a wolf coming at me—”
I’m hauling ass.
“I’m out of there.”

He exhaled and some of the tension finally seemed to drain from his body. “Good. Wolves are vicious. They’ll turn on you in an instant.”

Just like people.
We both knew just how deadly humans could be. After all, mom was barely cold in her grave.

Dad went inside and started cooking dinner. I stayed on the porch, and my gaze turned back to the dark wall of trees.

It might have been crazy, probably was, but I could have sworn as I looked…

Something looked back at me.

I could almost see the eyes, bright yellow, locked on me.

“Anna?”

I jumped and glanced over my shoulder.

My dad frowned at me. “You okay, baby?”

I nodded. What else was I going to do? I’d learned six months ago that there were some things my dad couldn’t fix, no matter how hard he tried.

So I turned away from those woods, I pushed aside the gnawing in my gut, and I went inside.

Whatever was out there…it could just wait.

The first day of school. Is there a day more dreaded?  Doubtful, for a teenager.

But here I was, getting dropped off in the sheriff’s car of all things. Right, way to score points as the new kid. But at least I wasn't starting in the middle of the year. This was Day One fun for everyone.

“Come by the station when you’re done,” my dad said, leaning toward me.

I nodded. After school care at the cop shop—what else did I know?

I turned away and my eyes swept over the school. Much, much smaller than my old school had been. Haven High looked like it had seen better days. Like, a
lot
of better days. A line of orangish-yellow school buses waited on the side, and students piled out of them. I knew the kids were bused in from a few close-by towns to attend the school.

“Anna…” I heard the sigh that was my name, and I glanced back. “Try to have fun this year, okay? Things can be different,” my dad said.

No, I’m different.
But I didn’t say the words. What was the point? I threw him a smile. “Dad, I’m wearing my fun clothes, how could I not have a party?” I was half-serious. I’d actually dressed to impress. Semi-short skirt. Not too short cause I didn’t want my dad to freak, but short enough to show off the fact that I had pretty good legs. I wore a top to match my eyes—a few guys had talked about how pretty my eyes were, um, when my dad had let the guys in question get close enough to talk to me.

Over-protective much? Yeah, that was my dad. But with the things he’d seen, he had reason to be that way.

For a moment, my gaze locked on my reflection in the back seat window. My hair was twig free today and combed into the usual sleek style that I liked to wear—a straight shoulder length bob, parted on the far right side. I’d even gone so far as to put lipstick on today. And a little blush.

Jeez, I was
trying
. Couldn’t he see that?

“Don’t raise too much hell,” my dad said, pointing a finger at me.

Ah, right. I’d forgotten that part. A girl gets into a few scrapes at her old school and suddenly she’s a hell-raiser.

Maybe not so suddenly. “I can’t make any promises.”

I thought he laughed at that, but I was already turning away. School rule: You can only talk to your dad for so long—
in the sheriff’s car—
without getting weird looks.

I pushed back my shoulders, clutched the strap of my backpack a little too tightly and headed up the chipped stone steps. A bell rang just as I reached for the door. The warning bell. Five minutes until homeroom started.

I can do this.
Everyone else did normal every day. I could manage it, too. At least for a few hours.

I found my locker instantly. Big surprise. I didn’t even look at the lock as I spun the combination. It was that whole not-lost thing again. I can’t get lost, and
nothing
can be lost from me. So there’s no forgetting a locker combination for me.  I just spin and it feels right and bam—the lock snicks and opens.

My gaze darted down the hallway as I shoved some books inside the locker, lightening my bag. Voices rose and fell, laughter followed. Some girls in skirts way shorter than mine sauntered down the hallway. One glanced my way—a girl with curly blond hair—and her eyes narrowed a bit as she assessed me.

I tried a smile. She didn’t really smile back. But then, she didn’t glare at me, either.

Progress? Maybe.

A few jocks ran down the hallway then, pushing other kids out of their way. No, they weren’t wearing giant signs that said “Jock”—but they might as well have been. Big guys, too much I-own-the-world attitude, and they were already talking football. I barely controlled an eye roll. Again, me—not so athletic.

I slammed my locker and turned around—and slammed right into some guy with light coffee skin, close-cropped black hair, glasses, and a voice that cracked when he hurriedly apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” I murmured because I was the one who’d hit him. Then I took a good look at the guy. He had a green schedule card in his hand—his shaking hand. He had the fresh-faced, scared look that only a high school freshman can be marked with.

Poor guy. Tall, a little too thin. Probably one of those kids who’d hit a growth spurt over the summer. He’d sprouted up tall, but the muscle hadn’t caught up yet, if it ever would.

He offered me a quick smile. “I-I’m trying to find Mrs. Parker’s room.”

A jock stopped right by us then. Over six feet, t-shirt stretched with his muscles, and a goofy hi-there grin on his face. “I can help you with that, kid,” he said as he pushed a hand through his blond hair.

The “kid” blinked. “You can, Troy?”

Troy, huh? I raised a brow and waited.

“Sure.” That smile stretched, showing bright, white teeth. “Here’s what you do, FM. You go back out the main entrance, slide around the back of the building and pass the shop room. Mrs. Parker’s class is on the east side of the school yard.”

FM?
For Freshman?

The freshman nodded eagerly. “Th-thanks, Troy!”

Troy must be someone important the way the guy was all wide-eyed now.

The freshman turned away, and I heard Troy snicker.