Sisters Red (20 page)

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or forty-nine. The numbers race through my mind as I punch them in on the scoreboard.
Twenty-eight. Fourteen. Twenty-one. Forty-nine.
Seven years. They were all changed on a seventh year.

"That's it. That's it," I whisper. My heart thunders and my lips actually crack a smile. Rosie glances at me, eyes questioning, and I lean closer to her. "The ages are all multiples of seven," I whisper. "Potentials can be changed only on their seven-year birthdays, between the full-moon phases..." I pause, my mind practically clicking, and then remember a detail from Joseph Woodlief's obituary. "
After
their birthdays. It's the full-moon phase after their birthdays. Joseph had just turned fourteen. That's why it makes them go from a normal guy to a Potential, because they've just turned the right age. That's it."

Rosie gives an almost unseen nod and I catch a look of amazement glimmer through her eyes, almost totally obscured by the black lights.

"You want to see the car?" the Fenris with the barbed-wire tattoo asks, motioning with his head toward the bowling alley door. Rosie smiles shyly and shrugs.
Yes, Rosie, yes, get him to want you.
There's some warmth in my heart, some energy that I haven't felt since leaving Ellison. One step closer to finding the Potential, a pack of Fenris in hand. We are hunters again.

"Man, come on, we're not supposed to be..." another Fenris says to the first. A waitress sets another pitcher of beer down onto the wolves' table, but their eyes are all on Rosie.

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A few shove their hands into their pockets, I'm certain in an effort to hide the claws that are beginning to grow.

"Come on," the barbed-wire Fenris urges again, all charm.

"Okay. Real quick. And my sister has to come too. You know, to protect me from you guys," she says with a giggle. Rosie is doing this flawlessly. I ignore the Fenris's sneer as he regards me, eye patch and all.

"Of course," he says in a forced tone, then holds out his arm. Rosie links her arm through his, sticks her chest out, and tosses her hair. I follow them, and the rest of the pack follows me, one stopping to tell the attendant not to reset our lanes. They'll want to play a few more frames after they feast on us, I imagine.

The Fenris sweeps my sister past the gum-ball and toy machines, past a pack of scrawny teenage boys who try to hide the joints they're smoking as we pass. Cool air rushes over us as the Fenris throws open the bowling alley door. I don't see Silas, but I'm certain he's here, watching. The pack ignores me, huddling behind my sister while the barbed-wire wolf prattles on about horsepower and car engines. He points at a spot in front of him.

And then he freezes. The other Fenris halt in place as well, and a few lower their heads like scolded dogs. It's not that the car the barbed-wire wolf is pointing to isn't impressive; it's bright, glaring red, like a stripper in a parking lot full of beige and silver nuns. It's not the car.

It's the Fenris standing in front of it.

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The monster is in human form, but his eyes are colder and more wolflike than the eyes of any Fenris I've ever seen. He's wearing a button-down white shirt, but it does little to hide his biceps or the shadows of tattoos swirling over his chest. His jaw is square, firm, and though he's perfectly, deadly still, fury radiates off him. He cocks his head at the barbed-wire Fenris and smiles, a cruel, sadistic sort of grin. He's leaning on the car, and from here I can see the mark on his wrist: an arrow. An arrow with a crown around it. The Arrow pack's Alpha.

"Having a fun night out?" the Alpha asks, running his thumb across his nails casually.

The pack trembles. Monsters, and they're terrified. I step closer to my sister, and her fear is almost palpable through the wolves that stand between us.
Don't be scared, Rosie. I'm here
. I tighten my grip on my hatchet and reach to grab my hunting knife as well.
Silas is here. We are
hunters,
I will protect you.
Is it terrible that I suddenly feel something akin to relief in the midst of this mess? That being able to protect my sister makes me feel useful, almost normal again?

"Just a break. Then we're back to looking for him," the barbed-wire Fenris says quickly, nodding his head as though that'll help him prove the point. A group of normal teenagers pours out of the bowling alley. They turn sharply and fall silent when they see us, then hurry toward their cars without many good-byes--even they can tell something isn't right in the air.

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The Alpha grins, and it's
terrifying.
"Right. Right. Because, to me, it looks like you guys are having a wild night. Beer, bowling, lovely young ladies," he says, letting his eyes wander up and down Rosie's body. I feel her shudder even from a distance, and I'm not sure if it's sincere or part of her act. "You know, I realize you're new to Arrow. But I am fairly certain that even in Bell, orders were orders."

"This, uh... your brother or something?" Rosie says in a meek voice.
Good job, Rosie; keep talking. Keep talking until I can figure out how to fight the leader of a pack on his own turf, with his wolves to back him up.

"Or something," the Alpha says. "He was showing you the car, right?" Rosie nods. "Why don't you come over here and let me show you this puppy?"

Rosie and I tremble together. She can't fight the Alpha. She can't take him. I stutter-step forward, desperate to run to my sister, though I probably can't take him either. At any rate, I won't be able to make it through all of them. They'll hold me back long enough for him to hurt her. For me to watch him kill...
Breathe, Scarlett, breathe.
Rosie lingers back for a moment, looking like she longs to stay with the lesser of the evil Fenris. I could hit the Alpha with my hatchet, maybe, with a well-aimed toss... but Rosie is right there--she's taking his hand, and I could hit her. I...

The Alpha leads Rosie toward the car like a proud parent. The pack shifts, waiting for a command. The barbed-wire Fenris falls back with the rest of them.

"All custom-painted, of course. You want to go for a ride?

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I can take you around the town, sweetheart. Pick up some laundry? Groceries? Liquor?" the Alpha says with a wicked grin. He takes a step closer to Rosie, and he's so tall that my sister has to practically look straight up to meet his eyes. I can see her hands shaking. Worse yet, I can see the Alpha enjoying her fear.

"Oh, I'm good, actually. Just stopped by Kroger this morning," Rosie says. It's
her
voice, not the character voice, and she's trying to keep from crying out. She searches for my eye through the pack, but just before she would have reached me, the Alpha raises a hand and turns her head toward him, his nails long and yellowed, eyes glinting ocher in the moonlight.

"Now, come on. Don't be impolite," he says in a low hiss. Strands of thin, stringy hair sprout around his neck.

A streak of motion catches my eye nearby. I don't see the person, but I recognize something about the movement. Yes--Silas. Okay. Three versus... six. Still.

"It's just that... I-I don't like to get into cars with strangers," Rosie stammers. The Alpha closes his eyes, as though he's drinking in her terror. Rage begins to replace the worry in my heart, begins to fill my chest with power.
Come on, Rosie, you're the one calling the shots on this.
I see Rosie fold her arms over her chest as if she's nervous.

"Then we should be better acquainted," the Fenris says, and his voice dissolves into a growling howl. A sharp, crunching noise breaks into the silent night as his spine lurches forward, his nose lengthening as he opens his dripping mouth

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in another deep, wild howl. The wolf lunges for Rosie, still-somewhat-human hands grasping for her shirt.

But my sister is quicker. She flicks a knife out of its sheath and lashes it across the Alpha's abdomen as deftly as an artist with a brush. The Alpha leaps backward, the last few traces of humanity vanishing as he rears around to see what she's done. When he sees the trickle of thick blood clumping his fur, his lips curl back in a snarl. His eyes flicker toward the rest of the pack, and they drop to their knees, their spines crunching. I draw my weapons--they still don't seem to realize I'm behind them.

Rosie flicks out her second knife and takes aim. It spins out of her hand like a star, straight at the Alpha's chest. But the Alpha knocks it away easily. He raises a clawed hand at my sister and I feel a scream erupting in my throat, recognizing the motion from seven years ago. The swing will take my sister's eye. I storm through the still-transforming Fenris, swinging my hatchet as if I'm hacking at tree limbs. Rosie's eyes widen in horror as the Alpha's claws begin to descend. I grit my teeth and force my body forward, now ignoring the other wolves, desperate to reach her.

A roaring scream, all human but as fierce as any Fenris howl, echoes through the parking lot. My head snaps to see its source: Silas is running toward Rosie, hunting knives in one hand, ax aloft in the other. His eyes burn brighter than any hellfire. He swings out just as the Alpha's claws are about to reach Rosie's face, knocking the monster out of the way.

Which means it's my turn. The fear and anger melt away,

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and I'm all confidence. I flip my hatchet in my hand and turn back to the pack. They've all transformed and are creeping low to the ground, snapping their jaws like bear traps. I lash forward. The hatchet makes contact with the nearest Fenris's jaw, and I hear it crack. The others leap toward me in one swift motion, but I spin wildly, hacking at whatever I can hit. The Alpha howls behind me, but I don't look back. I can't look back.

"Go! Go! We have what we need!" the Alpha snarls frantically. He's the leader of Arrow... surely he isn't this easily startled? No matter--as long as he dies.

I leap into the air, landing hard on one Fenris's spine. I duck another Fenris's leap for my throat and sink my hatchet into the one under my feet. He almost instantly becomes shadows, lowering me enough that a few more fly over me. I turn to see one's jaws closing in toward my face, but he suddenly jerks backward. When he falls, I can see my sister standing behind him. She picks up the knife that's left on the ground when the wolf shadows.

A low howl rings out again--the Alpha, I'm somehow certain. I wheel back around and brandish the hunting knife, but I am surprised to see the remaining three Fenris backing away. Their heads are low and they're growling, deep, thunderlike growls that vibrate my bones. The Alpha howls again, and I suddenly realize that the howl is far away, only an echo. One of the Fenris snaps at me, then turns and dashes away.
No. Come on, not again.
I run forward, but the other Fenris follow him. My feet slam into the pavement, and I narrowly

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avoid a few cars as I race after them across the street, cloak swinging behind me.

The Fenris are faster, far faster than me. They are only dots on the horizon now.
No, no... but yes
. They dart into the woods. I follow, but finally my feet slow to a stop. My lungs burn as I turn around, gasping. Dammit! I had the
Alpha
even...

I jump as I hear faint footsteps behind me, but it's only Silas. He moves through the trees like water, feet making little noise on the ground.

"They were fast," he says with a frown as he reaches me. I nod and we stand side by side, scanning the forest. There's nothing--just the sound of trees swaying in the breeze and moonlight spotting the forest floor. Silas steps into the ray of moonlight I'm standing in. I tug my eye patch off, tired of the sweat that's running underneath it.

"The Alpha," I sigh, exasperated. I was so close this time. I just wasn't fast enough, strong enough. I swallow the guilt. "I don't suppose you could track him out here?"

Silas looks past me, into the darkness. "I can try, but unless they double back, they're probably long gone."

"Please," I say, looking down.

Silas puts a hand on my shoulder. "I already said I'd try. You don't have to say please," he reminds me gently.

Silas kneels to the ground, rubbing dirt between his fingers and brushing the edges of plants with his palms. We walk deeper into the woods, but we make it only fifteen minutes before he turns to face me, eyes apologetic.

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"Look, Lett, I'm sorry, but... it's dark. Really dark. Maybe Lucas or Pa Reynolds could track in this, but I'm not the woodsmen they are."

"It's okay," I say, though I think my voice gives it away that it isn't. If we don't follow the trail immediately, there's no point. We both know the wolves will be long gone by daylight.

"We'll find him again," Silas says seriously, lifting a low-hanging branch to my right--my blind side. I wouldn't have seen it.

"What makes you so certain?" I ask, eyebrows raised as we step back onto the road.

Silas laughs lightly. "It's what you
do,
Lett."

I shrug, agreeing. "It's what
we
do," I correct him with a sideways glance. Silas rolls his eyes good-naturedly and nods as we make our way back to Rosie.