The Better to Bite (8 page)

Usually people were turned off by that habit, but Brent didn’t seem to be pulling away. “Maybe I should hold back more.”

He spared me a brief glance. “Maybe you should let go more.”

I swallowed and wondered why things suddenly felt so intense. “Wh-what—” I’d just
stuttered.
So not me. I cleared my throat and tried again. “What happened with you and Valerie? One day you’re the lead VIP couple on campus, and the next you’re not?”

His hand pulled away from mine. I could so kill a mood when I wanted. It was a talent.

“It wasn’t quite that sudden. We’d both been changing for a while.”

From the stilted tone, I got that he didn’t want to keep talking about his ex or their changes. Fine. I could understand that. It wasn’t like I wanted to dish on Valerie for hours, either.

New topic.
“So do you often have parties at your house? I mean, parties that start when you aren’t even there?”

The truck took a sharp left curve, then a right. My ears were popping a bit as we drove higher up the mountain. I swallowed again to ease the pressure.

His low laugh came as I’d hoped, and I was happy to hear that sound. He had a good laugh. “During football season, yeah, I do. My place is the un-official hangout.”

“And your parents don’t mind?” I shook my head. “My dad would flip.”

“That’s because he’s the sheriff.” Because I was staring at his hands—again—I saw the way they tightened around the steering wheel. “My parents aren’t in town for most of the fall or winter, so it’s no big deal to them where I go or what I do.”

His words made me sad because I could hear the echo of pain in his voice.

“They’re divorced,” he said into the silence. “My dad moved away two years ago, and my mom likes to travel with whatever flavor of the week she’s dating.”

I knew Brent had money—a lot of it. When I’d been on the Internet—I couldn’t help it, I did like to snoop—I'd found some info on his parents. His mom was an ex-actress-slash-model, and his dad had been a guy with old money. Put the two together and what do you get? Parents who didn’t seem to care much for their son.

“My mom split on us last year,” I confessed to him and my hands fisted in my lap.
No, if you’re telling the story, tell it all.
“She left, I’d hoped she’d come back but—”

He glanced at me. “But what?”

“But then she died.”
Was murdered.
“She was killed in Chicago.”

“I’m sorry, Anna.” He sounded it.

When had this become about me? “Don’t worry about it, I mean—I just…you’re not the only one who knows what it’s like when a parent leaves, okay?” Only in my case, she’d left forever. “You’re not alone.”

His eyes glittered at me. “No, I’m not.”

That stare of his seemed to see too much. I looked away, darting a fast glance toward the windshield and—“
Brent, watch out!”

The truck swerved as his hands jerked the wheel.

I stared with wide eyes as a wolf—a big, dark wolf—raced right toward us. The headlights made the beast’s eyes seem to glow yellow and its jaws hung open, all of its sharp teeth bursting from its mouth.

Oh, crap, it was gonna hit us.

“Brent!” I screamed again.

He yanked the wheel to the left, too hard. I knew it, I knew—the truck wouldn't come out of the swerve this time. Instead, it spun, once, twice, and the world disappeared in a fast blur as we tumbled, sliding over the edge of the road and rolling down the mountain slope into the woods. Pine trees slammed into the truck. The glass shattered in the windshield and rained onto me. I couldn’t scream anymore, my breath was gone.

My head snapped back, and the last sound I heard was the wolf’s howl.

I opened my eyes to total darkness. Darkness…and pain. I pushed up with my hands, and something hard and sharp—glass?—fell from my fingers.

My eyes adjusted slowly, and I could make out the smashed interior of Brent’s truck. I turned my head to the left and hissed at the pain that rolled over me.

A tree had shoved through the windshield and plunged into the driver’s seat.

My heart stopped then. “
Brent!”

He wasn’t in the seat, thank God, but the glass was everywhere and blood dripped into my eyes. “
Brent, where are you
?”

Lost…an image clicked in my mind immediately. I saw Brent’s body, sprawled face down, near some a group of pine trees. Was he moving? Was he alive? I had to get to him!

The truck was tilted at an angle and the seatbelt bit into my chest. I unhooked it, and my upper body immediately dropped forward and hit the dash. I barely felt the impact. That had to be a bad thing. I should have felt it.

I tried to shove open my door. Like the windshield, my passenger window had shattered. When I put my hand on the door, tiny pieces of glass cut into me.

And the damn door wouldn’t open.

“
Brent!”

If I couldn’t open the door, I’d have to crawl out.

That was when I realized my legs weren’t moving.

I could feel my legs, could wiggle my toes, but the dash had shoved inward so much that I was pinned and no matter how much I twisted and turned, I couldn’t pull free. The airbag, now deflated, rested in front of the dash, and it felt like a shroud covering me.

Have to get out.

I punched at the bag and the dash. I tried to jerk up my right leg, but it caught on something sharp and my skin tore open.

No!

Breath heaving, my gaze darted around the vehicle. There…
there!
My bag had gotten tangled around the gear shift. I grabbed it, fumbling with slick fingers, and yanked out my phone. I’d call my dad. He’d get me out. Dad to the rescue, again.

I lifted the phone and saw the glowing screen.
Yes, thank you—

No service.

There weren’t any freaking bars, and I couldn’t get a dial tone. We’d rolled—I didn’t even know for how long—but we were far away from the road, and my damn phone wasn’t working.

I screamed then, in rage and fear, as I sat pinned in that truck. I knew no one up on the main road would notice the truck. It was too dark, no lights up there, and we’d gone right over the edge.

My scream echoed around me, and then I heard the howl.

The same long, eerie howl that I’d heard before the accident.

My heart was racing now, racing so hard that my chest ached. My fingers fumbled with my bag once again, and my hearing seemed to become super acute because I could swear that I heard the wolf’s footfalls on the ground. A twig snapped.

My gaze darted to the left, to the right, and my legs attempted to kick—no dice. I was trapped in there and every time I tried to move, I cut my flesh. If I kicked too much harder, I’d break a leg.

But what was worse…a broken leg or—

I could hear the wolf’s breath. Panting.

I looked to the right, glancing through my broken window, and I saw the wolf’s glowing yellow gaze.

I threw my phone at the wolf. “Stay away from me!”

The phone bounced off its head. The wolf growled and stalked closer.

“Don’t come any closer!” My hand was in my bag—thank God it was pinned with me—and the wolf licked its lips and growled at me. Its body pressed low to the ground as it closed the distance between us.

I remembered all those missing hikers. Sheriff Brantley.  All dead. Yes, oh, yes, there was something to fear in the woods, and that something was coming right at me.

I blinked, and the wolf vanished.

What?
No, no, that wasn’t possible, it wasn’t—

The wolf’s head burst through the shattered window, and its teeth snapped, narrowly missing my arm. I yelled even as my left hand came up and I sprayed my mace—
I owe you, Dad—
right into the wolf’s ugly, yellow eyes.

The wolf howled again, but this time the howl was full of pain.

I expected the wolf to back away, and it did, but…smoke rose from the animal’s eyes. The yellow darkened to a gray as I watched. As if the eyes were burning.

The smoke thickened. The animal howled again, and then it spun away and ran into the darkness.

I stared after it, stunned. Holy hell. Just…holy hell.

My gaze turned back to the mace. What was in that can?

Another twig snapped and in a flash, I had my mace back up.  “You stay the hell away from me!” I was the one snarling now. “Or I will spray you until your eyes burn out!” No one was taking a bite out of me.

Silence.

The pounding of my heart filled my ears. Wolves weren’t supposed to attack like that, were they? I mean who’d ever heard of a wolf charging a truck, and then following the wreck and attacking the survivors?

Freaking insane.

I licked my lips. I could taste fear on my tongue. I didn’t know what I should do. How long would the mace last? Wolves usually ran in packs, right?

I won’t end up like those hikers…a skull covered by leaves.

The rasp of my breath hurt my lungs.

“Anna!”

I thought I’d imagined the voice at first, but I still called, “Brent?”

Then hope hit me. He was awake. He’d just been thrown from the truck, maybe knocked out for a moment, he was—

Rafe appeared just a few feet away. Even in the darkness, I knew it was him, not Brent. He was taller, his shoulders broader, and he was running fast as he raced toward me.

I dropped the mace. “Rafe!” My eyes wanted to tear but I blinked them away. “Brent…he’s out there, near the pine trees on the right! He was thrown from the truck and, oh, God, a wolf was here! It tried to bite me and—” My words tumbled out too fast. I couldn’t help it. “I sprayed the wolf, and it burned.”

“Shh…easy.” Rafe was beside the truck now. “If a wolf is around, we damn well don’t want to call the thing back.”

No, they damn well didn’t.

“Are you hurt?” He asked me, his face hit with shadows and darkness.

“Nothing too bad.” Scrapes would heal, the blood would stop. I’d be okay. “I just can’t get out. The door won’t open and my legs are pinned!” Rafe wouldn’t be able to help me. I’d probably need the jaws of life to get out of that truck. I needed to get a grip and
think.
“You need to get to Brent. Make sure he’s okay. You can check him and then go get help for me.”

His hand came through the window and caught my chin. “I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m stuck!” He had to leave me. There wasn't a choice. As much as I wanted to grab him and hold on tight…that wasn’t an option. “I’ll be okay.” I hoped. “Just—”

His hand fell away from me, and he stepped back.

I lifted my chin, and my voice trembled when I said, “Th-thank you.” I didn’t know how he’d found us, but I was so grateful, even if he was about to leave me alone in the dark.

But I’m not afraid of the dark.
Or at least, I hadn’t been afraid before.

Rafe’s right hand shoved glass away from the window, and he gripped the door. His left locked around the handle.

“Rafe?”

Metal groaned and screeched and the door—it just seemed to fall back against him.

No way.

I realized I wasn’t breathing.

“Must have been loose from the crash,” he said as he shoved the door to the ground. “I just had to get it at the right angle.”

I still wasn’t breathing.

Then he leaned into the vehicle and put his hands against the dashboard. “I’m gonna push,” he said, “and when I do, you pull your legs up, got it?”

I nodded.

He pushed. No, shoved, and that dash dented in a good foot.

My legs flew up, and he had me. Rafe locked his arms around me and pulled me out of the truck. I held on to him as tightly as I could. I was probably bleeding on the guy, but I didn’t care. He was strong and warm, and he’d gotten me out of that twisted wreck.

He hadn’t left me alone.

His hold was just as tight on me. “You have to get out of here,” he told me, his words whispering into my ear.

I glanced over my shoulder. Oh, wow, that truck was totaled. I couldn’t believe that I’d actually gotten out of that tangled heap alive.

“Brent,” I said, shaking my head a little. “We have to help…”

Rafe’s head lifted, and he stared down at me. His eyes were hard, glittering.

I swallowed.

“I saw Brent when I came for you.” Rafe pointed toward the cluster of trees. “He’s alive, but out cold.”

My shoulders sagged, and I tried to pull back. Rafe’s hold tightened. “Rafe?” Worry or fear or
something
had me tensing.

After a tense moment, he let me go.

I hurried over to Brent. He lay sprawled on the ground, a good fifteen feet from the truck. His shirt was torn, almost ripped away entirely. I touched his arm. “Brent, wake up!”

He didn’t stir.

I shook him. “Brent!”

His eyelashes fluttered. “Wh-what?” He blinked. “Anna? Why are you bleeding?”

He could tell I was bleeding in the dark? It had taken me a while to be able to see anything.

Rafe stood behind me. I was glad to have him close. Right then, I was totally subscribing to the safety-in-numbers idea.

“She’s bleeding,” Rafe snapped, “because you drove your truck off the side of the road and nearly killed her, you asshole.”

Brent’s eyes widened. He shoved up in a flash. A really fast move for a guy who’d been dead to the world a moment ago. He swore and touched the back of his head. This time, I was the one to see the blood that stained his fingertips.

But he just wiped the blood on his jeans and pushed to his feet. When he tried to take a step, he stumbled as his right leg seemed to give away beneath him.
Very bad sign.
I caught him before he hit the ground again. Rafe didn’t move to help Brent.

“You’ve got to get her out of here,” Brent said, wincing, and I knew something was wrong with his leg. The kind of something that would make getting out of there extremely hard. “Rafe, man, take her back up to the road.”

“There are wolves out here.” I looped his arm over my shoulders. “No one is staying behind, got me?”

Rafe and Brent looked at each other. Okay, what was up with that almost angry look? If I hadn’t been bleeding and hurting and scared, I would have yelled at them both. Oh, why not? “
We’re all moving!”
My voice was definitely close to a yell.