Werebiker by Paige Cuccaro

Author:Paige Cuccaro [Cuccaro, Paige]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swerve
Published: 2017-09-11T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“They’re werewolves. Real, honest to God, fucking werewolves.” Jill raked her hair back from her forehead. “This is insane.”

She stumbled over a rock along the road. Thank God, she’d found it. Unfortunately, this road turned out to be the least traveled road in the whole friggin’ world. She’d been following it for ten minutes and still hadn’t seen a car.

Jill scrubbed half-dried tears from her cheeks, stomping onward down the dark roadside, despite not being sure which direction she was marching. The forest, underlain with thick swamp, towered high on either side, blocking the moonlight. Weird noises screeched from the darkness, sounds that in daylight might not sound anything at all like a haunted house sound track.

She had her cellphone in her back pocket. But who would she call? There was just enough ambient light to keep her from running into anything, but beyond that the world was dark shadows. When a lone car finally did roar by, Jill turned to wave it down. The car flew passed without even tapping its breaks, its bright headlights illuminating the edge of trees and grass . . . and the wolf sitting about fifty feet down the road.

Jilly froze, watching as the car’s headlights swung off him, its rear lights quickly blinking out of sight. The wolf hadn’t moved. Was it Mooch or Moose? Jill couldn’t tell. So she stood there, her mind warring over what to do next. When the animal pushed up to its feet and began a slow stroll toward her, the decision was made. She couldn’t out run him. Jill held her breath.

“Mooch?” It was barely a whisper. Jilly cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes trying to make out details. “Jack? Is that you?”

He came within ten feet, but it was still too dark to see if his fur was sandy blonde or smoky gray. The wolf stopped just as another car zoomed up behind Jill, its headlights washing over them.

Jill exhaled. “Mooch. Thank God.” The moment she said his name, the light-haired wolf stood, wagging his tail and edging closer.

He rubbed his furry head against her hip and Jill reached down on reflex to run her hand down his back.

Then she remembered the man who was supposedly inside the wolf. “Jack?”

The wolf perked his ears and looked up at her. Suddenly petting him seemed awkward. He licked her hand, and nudged his head under her palm. Jill scratched between his ears.

“Okay. This is weird.” She pulled her had away. “You wouldn’t happen know which way is home?”

The wolf gave a sharp bark and led the way down the road. Turned out she had been heading in the right direction. They walked in silence, mostly because Jack couldn’t talk, but the night’s events were still swirling through Jill’s brain. She could’ve been killed. If not for Mooch—Jack—leaping out of the shadows to keep the Hellhounds at bay, she might have gotten a lot worse than a cut on her ankle where Moose’s teeth scraped her skin.

“Did you kill him?” She didn’t really want to know, but she had to ask.

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