“I can’t believe you’re on fucking Instagram.”
“Only because they’ve got photo feeds devoted to chunky little puppies. And it doesn’t matter how shitty a day has been, those chunky little puppies remind you why life is worth living.” He’s quiet for a minute. “When did you say we were leaving?”
“In a week.” Not that long.
And a damn eternity.3AliciaThe sun’s only been up for twenty or thirty minutes when my sister finds me crouching beside a stream. “You didn’t get as far this time,” Sam says quietly.
My throat a tight knot, I only nod and continue washing my skin with the icy water. I woke up covered in blood, naked except for the tracking device Sam locks around my ankle every full moon.
With a heavy sigh, she sits on a nearby log, wearing the same hiking boots, jeans, and hoodie that I last saw her in. She’s been following behind me all night in her truck…and at a safe distance.
“What was it?” I whisper, my voice raw with fear.
“Elk,” she says.
Tears of sheer relief spring to my eyes, but terror still lingers just beneath. So far, the beast has stayed away from people and hasn’t hurt anyone. But I don’t know if the beast avoids them on purpose or if I’ve just been lucky.
Sam digs into her backpack, pulls out a towel and tosses it to me. “I brought sandwiches.”
“I’m not hungry.”
A short laugh escapes her. “After seeing that elk, I’m not surprised.”
“Don’t tell me.”
“I won’t.” She watches me towel off, then drags the elastic off the end of her dark brown braid and shoots it in my direction. “You’re not going to get that gunk out of your hair without a shower, so just pull it back.”
Nodding, I use my fingers as a comb to scrape together a messy ponytail, then pull on the leggings she brought me. “Where are we?”
“Not far from Pendleton.”
Surprise stops me with my hands down the sleeves of a sweatshirt. Only as far as Pendleton? That’s less than sixty miles from our house. When Sam said I didn’t get as far this time, I thought she meant I didn’t cross the Canadian border. “Really?”
“You’re here for the second time,” she adds. “You made a big loop. Pendleton to La Grande, then back to Pendleton. And you spent a long time circling each city and…I don’t know. Searching.”
“Oh.” Stomach sinking, I finish dragging the sweatshirt over my head. “Shit.”
“You know what you were looking for?” She holds out a pair of tennis shoes. “You want to share with the class?”
Heart aching, I tell her, “Ranger said he’d be in my neck of the woods. But I didn’t let him tell me exactly where.”
Yet there are only two cities in this region big enough to host a conference. Unless he’s at a lodge somewhere in between. But yesterday, I was thinking that he must be near, and wondering where he might be.
Obviously the beast knows what I know. But I don’t know what Ranger smells like, so the beast couldn’t find him.
“Oh, damn.” Sam blows out a breath, drags her hands through her loose hair. “So every time you went north before, you really were going after him.”
Not me. The monster. But I don’t know if it’s a distinction that matters, because I want Ranger, too. And I suspected before that he might be the reason the beast always went north, but I wasn’t certain. It was just a feeling.
Now I’m sure. And after we meet, I’ll know Ranger’s scent. So the only way he’ll ever be safe again is if I’m far enough away from him.
Tears blur my vision and I close my eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t see him tonight.”
That Sam doesn’t immediately tell me I should—or make a joke about how I always find reasons to push people away—means that she’s not too certain, either. Even though all this week, she’s been my number one cheerleader whenever the inevitable doubts slipped in.
“How are you feeling now?” she asks.
“Exhausted.” Just as I always am the day after a full moon. Usually I completely crash and sleep for about twenty-four hours.
Which I probably should have thought about before making a date for Saturday. And is just another reason to cancel.
“But is there any— Grrr.” She makes claws of her fingers. “Any of that?”
I shake my head.
“Then I think you should go.” Coming closer, she catches my face in her hands. “Do this for yourself. Because God knows, you need something good—then he’ll be gone, safely away again. And I’m on duty tonight, but I’ll be there in two seconds if anything goes wrong. You just call.”
Breath shuddering, I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“I’m just trying to pay you back for all the times you covered for me in high school, and didn’t tell mom I’d been sneaking out and drinking all night.”