Feral Pride by Cynthia Leitich Smith

Feral Pride by Cynthia Leitich Smith

Author:Cynthia Leitich Smith [Smith, Cynthia Leitich]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7636-7709-1
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2015-03-20T16:00:00+00:00


“You let her go with him?” Clyde exclaims.

“Aimee’s father’s employer may not be a fan of werepeople, but Aimee herself is a human and his own child,” Quincie points out in Kieren’s upstairs bedroom at the Moraleses’ stone-and-stucco McMansion. “The FHPU never went to Aimee’s home or Waterloo High or came looking for her at Sanguini’s. Has Mr. Barnard shown any sign of being a threat to her?”

“No, I guess not.” The Wild Card stops pacing. If it were me or Kayla, he’d still be arguing, but Quincie and Kieren have more influence over him.

The Wolf puts in, “I’d be shocked if Graham Barnard has any idea —”

“Yeah, I know,” Clyde admits. “I still don’t like him.” There’s more to it than that. I sense his concern, that’s sincere. But he’s feeling guilty about something, too.

A few minutes ago, Kieren’s mom sent us up with mini cans of Dr Pepper, tiny silver straws, and matching napkins. The Wolf is still bandaged up, and Quincie is seated next to him on his waterbed. Downstairs, his dad and sister Meghan (she’s four or five) are playing Wii Ping-Pong in the great room.

Meanwhile, I’m checking out the map on the wall (a seventeenth-century museum-quality lithograph under Plexiglas). Kieren is resting his hand on an old leather-bound book that’s supposed to tell us how to defeat the demon. He’s a Wolf studies scholar, which means he’s an expert on history and magic and the demonic.

(According to Grams, werewolves are an overrated, superstitious species preoccupied with their own moon mythology, but she doesn’t think much of me either.)

At Kieren’s desk, Kayla is using his computer to research Whispering Pines Resort. It’s off 71 on the way to Pine Ridge and, according to the business page of the Bastrop County Examiner, the site of MCC Enterprises’ corporate retreat.

Looking over from the screen, Kayla adds, “MCC bought the resort in late January.” This morning, during our shower rotation, the Cat girl scrubbed off her fake tattoos. She’s been wearing a pair of shades we found in a kitchen drawer instead. “This is odd. The neighboring state park has been closed. The website cites fire damage, falling trees. I thought all that was cleaned up months ago.”

I come up behind her and nudge the Wolf. “You had something to tell us?”

Kieren tries to sit up and winces. “Mrs. Levy found a reference, saying Seth’s mission — or at least that associated with his breed of demon — is to create discord . . . strife. It feeds on it. I found another entry. It was heavily footnoted, riddled with disclaimers. Translation may be an issue, but it looks like no weapon of this earth can destroy him.”

“Very Whedon-y,” Clyde geek-speaks, sipping Dr Pepper.

“Very Eden-y,” Kieren counters. “We’re talking an age-old evil with a long history of success and a flare for the dramatic. Manipulative, petty, ambitious, boastful —”

“Consider it handled,” Quincie replies, giving the Wolf a quick peck on the forehead.

Then, like the matter is settled, they start



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