Sisters Red (7 page)

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I walk down the cabin's front steps, letting my hips sway a little more than usual; the older Fenris looks at me with what has become a sickening grin. I react exactly how I'm supposed to--by looking nervous. It forces the animal to take over, to hunt. But genuine goose bumps race up and down my arms as the younger Fenris takes a step closer.

"So why did you walk all the way out here instead of drive? Not old enough?" he asks, his voice more guttural than when we first spoke.

"I'm sixteen. How old are you?" I reply as we walk back toward the main road.

The older Fenris laughs loudly, and the younger one's eyes sparkle with dark mischievousness. "He's forty-nine. I'm twenty-one."

"A big age gap for friends," I say. The younger Fenris shrugs but doesn't say anything. I'm gripping the handle of a knife so hard that my hands have started to go numb, but I can't do anything until they change.

I'm surprised that they haven't made their move by the time we reach the main road. If they attack here, I'll have them in open space. If I let them pull me into the tall grasses that line this section of the road, we're both at a disadvantage. They'll want to stay out here in the open, where I can't hide.

"Uh, miss?" one of the Fenris says from a few yards behind me, though the voice is so snarled that I can't tell if it was the older or younger wolf. I whirl around and the older

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wolf is half transformed, his dashing gray hair now snarled in greasy patches of gray fur, chiseled features now muscular jaws and wide-set ocher eyes.

"Oh my... um... what?" I stammer.

"My friend seems to be sick," the younger Fenris says, stepping closer as if he hopes to feed off my fear. The handsome indie-rocker look has transformed into a grin that's just a tad too wide for a normal human. I take a step back and fold my arms over my waist, trying to tremble as I secretly wrap my fingers around the handles of my knives. "I think there's something in the water here. But you know what I think would make him feel better?"

"What?" I ask timidly.

The younger Fenris races toward me, moving like a flood over dry earth. His nose starts to speckle with fur, and when he speaks, the scent of decomposition and death is so heavy on his breath that I almost choke. He stops only a foot or so from me and leans forward, clicking his long incisors together when he answers. "Eating
you,
my dear."

He changes in one fluid motion, his human disguise melting away. I leap back and yank both knives from my belt just as the older wolf howls and steps forward. Both lower their heads and growl, baring their teeth and digging at the dirt with thick claws.

Everything is still--the wolves, me, the wind. None of us wants to make the first move.

Then, in the distance, faintly, I hear a familiar rumble. The bus, making another round. Both Fenris and I glance

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down the road in frustration. No one wants a fight in plain sight of the bus; the wolves'll have to make the choice to take a large handful of humans or run. And Fenris hate to run, but they aren't stupid.

The decision is made--the older Fenris propels himself at me, bounding off his back legs. I spin to the left, avoiding him, hands held out so that the tips of my blades skim his body. The younger Fenris growls and the older one grunts in response, a conversation I don't understand. I take advantage of his distraction and fling a well-aimed knife at him. He shies away at the last instant, but it still grazes the side of his face, shearing enough skin off to reveal raw pink muscles underneath. The bus rumbles closer--we all know time is up. I can't let them get away. Scarlett would never forgive me.

While the older Fenris shakes his head as if he's trying to throw the pain off his wound, the younger one runs forward. He darts side to side, and when I try to follow, I become unbalanced. He lunges for my left just as I lean to the right, and I hit the ground so hard that I feel bits of gravel sinking into my cheeks and the hilt of the knife I threw underneath my hip. I roll onto my chest and see the younger wolf whipping around, jaws open. I yank the knife from underneath my hip and thrust it upward. He avoids it narrowly. I sit up as the older wolf rejoins the fray, just as the first hints of the bus's dust cloud creep our way.

Stand up, stand up.
I spring to my feet and spin around, kicking the older wolf solidly in the side of the head, then turn just in time to drive my heel into the chest of the younger
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wolf as he leaps for my neck. The gray-blue top of the bus breaks through the horizon.
Come on, it's now or never,
Scarlett's warnings repeat in my head. If they run, they'll be starving, they'll have to eat, someone will die. I wheel toward the old Fenris and throw a knife at him with all the strength I possess. It sinks into his chest with a sickening squelch, and the wolf collapses to the side.

The younger wolf howls angrily, looking between me, the dying Fenris, and the bus. The bus is only moments away, and the driver might even see us by now. The young Fenris snaps his jaws at me and then leaps into the grasses. I hear his heavy claws padding through the briars and weeds. I could go after him, I could find him--no. I can't outrun him. He'll be long gone or he'll know enough to jump me.
Think, Rosie, think.

The bus starts to slow, and I realize there's a blue hatchback driving along in its shadow--Silas's car. I run to the fallen Fenris and yank my knife out of its side. I can't leave till I know I've killed it.
Come on, die already.
Its red-brown eyes are lined in hatred as it glares at me. The bus driver sees me, and her eyes widen at the sight of a girl looming over a dead beast, knife above her head. My eyes dart to Silas's car. We see each other at the same instant.

And the Fenris vanishes. He bursts into a cloud of black shadow that seems to scream in the sunlight before sliding under the pebbles in protest. I dash into the thick grasses in the opposite direction of the Fenris. I could have killed him sooner, should have killed them in the woods. What if I just

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ruined our cover? What if the bus driver recognized me and calls child services? I'll have destroyed it all.

Scarlett is going to kill me.

The grasses whip past me and my eyes begin to water, in both frustration and pain from the leaves slapping against my cheeks. Silas's horn wails behind me and I hear him shouting my name, but I don't stop, far too ashamed to even consider seeing him right now. He's wrong about me. I haven't grown up; I'm still the stupid little girl I was a year ago.

My heart is pounding and my skin sticky with sweat by the time I make it through the field. I trudge slowly toward our cottage, trying to breathe and get the tearstains off my cheeks. I should be proud. I just soloed, just killed a Fenris on my own.

And also let one get away, one who will now be starving after trying to attack me.

Also, let someone see me hunting.

Also, I'm pathetic.

I creep in through the back door, relieved to hear the dull thuds of Scarlett slamming the punching bag in the cellar-turned-training-room. I hurry upstairs, peeling away my wet and bloodied clothes. Once I'm in the shower with Screwtape standing guard on the bathroom rug, I cry. Silent, choked sobs of inadequacy. I have to tell Scarlett about the Fenris that got away. I have to warn her that a bus driver and social worker could come pounding on our door in a few days. I'll have to tell her, and then she'll scold me and insist on hunting down the other Fenris immediately. Selfishly, I'm angry because I

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know this means that the night I made cookies and picked out movies for is now shot to hell. God, I'm so stupid.

I can stall. I can wait to tell her. We can have our movie night, I can get her in a good mood, and then we'll go out and hunt together. Just like always. Her anger will fade like it always does. If a social worker shows up, we can hide, Scarlett can insist Mom is around, we can stall... it will work out.

"Rosie!" Scarlett shouts. There's fear in her voice, mixed with fury. I grit my teeth. My sister flings the bathroom door open, a hazy form behind the white shower curtain. "What happened? Are you okay?" she demands, voice dark enough to intimidate a wolf.

"I... Scarlett," I say, cutting the water off. I sigh and reach for a towel.

A voice interrupts my movement. "Look, Scarlett, come on, it was an accident--"

Silas rounds the corner. I freeze, arm outstretched and still a few inches from the towel, body half exposed around the curtain. His mouth drops, cheeks flush, and he immediately whirls around to face the hallway.

"Sorry, Rosie," he says quickly. He puts his hands into his pockets and bounces on his heels. My face turns bright red, goose bumps scattering across my arms from both the cold and the shivery feeling Silas is giving me.

"Rosie, what
happened?
" Scarlett asks again through gritted teeth, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I'm still naked and Silas is still incredibly close. She grabs a towel off the rack and thrusts it into my outstretched hand.

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"I was taking cookies to Silas's house," I mutter, wrapping the towel around myself hurriedly. I ignore the stream of water that runs from my hair down my back as the steam begins to fade away, leaving the room wet and muggy. I glance at Silas's back for a moment and then look at Scarlett. "I left them there when these two wolves jumped me. They were prowling together, I think. I took the older one out, but..."

"Go on," she says in a steely tone. Silas shifts uncomfortably.

"The young one got away." I sigh, guilt swimming through my head.

Her jaw tightens. "Got away?" she says lowly, dangerously. "You couldn't go after him?"

"I couldn't. He ran because the bus was coming up the road."

"You fought... The bus? A bus full of people?" she snaps. "Did they see you?"

"I..." My eyes well up with tears, and I'm very grateful Silas's back is still turned. "Yes. The driver saw me. So did Silas--he was coming from town and driving behind the bus. But the old wolf shadowed pretty quickly and I ran into that field of grass, and they didn't come after me--"

"The bus driver didn't even get out of the bus," Silas interjects without looking at us. "She just drove on. I think she was hoping it was all in her head."

"Wait, wait," Scarlett says, brushing past Silas and into the hall. She begins to pace. "So you let a Fenris get away
and
got spotted? Do you have any idea what could have

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happened to you?" Her voice is careful, something simmering just beneath the surface.

"I... yes," I reply glumly as tears run down my cheeks.

And then Scarlett erupts.

"Don't you remember what that might mean, Rosie? What if she decides to call the cops? Are you going to explain why you were stabbing things in the middle of the highway?"

"I--"

"Lett, come on," Silas says calmly. "I thought you were finally letting her solo. And she did solo. Shouldn't we congratulate her?"

Scarlett glares at him. "She--you
both
--let a Fenris get away! Now he's out, he's hungrier than before, and he's got something to prove. So yeah, Silas, let's congratulate my sister here, for sentencing some poor, stupid girl to death."

Silas doesn't answer, and I wonder what he's thinking.

"Come on. We're hunting.
Now
," Scarlett demands.

"You won't find him now, Scarlett. After a fight like the one Rosie put him through, he'll sleep it off. He'll be out tomorrow morning, if I had to guess," Silas says matter-of-factly. Scarlett pauses. She doesn't want him to be right, but she's always respected Silas where hunting is concerned. She trusts him in a way she's never trusted me.

"And I did kill one, Scarlett," I mutter halfheartedly. "I still did a solo hunt."

Scarlett's face is still tense, but she nods at me shortly. I take that as her congratulating me and have to admit I'm totally satisfied with even that small act at the moment.

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"We'll go out tomorrow morning, then. First thing," she ventures, more to Silas than me. "Though how the hell are we supposed to hunt? The Fenris certainly can't see my face, and he'll recognize Rosie. We've got no bait, unless you think you'll look pretty in a dress, Silas."

"Okay, one, I would look great in a dress," Silas begins. He turns to lean against the bathroom door, seemingly forgetting that I'm still in a towel. When he sees me, he averts his eyes and flushes a little. "And two," he continues in a forced voice, "you've been luring Fenris on your own for ages, Scarlett. The Apple Time Festival is tomorrow. Perfect place for a Fenris to hang out, even if you don't take into account all the red people will be wearing. We'll go there."

Scarlett nods curtly. No one moves for a few moments as water continues to trickle off my back and onto the shower floor. Finally, Scarlett gives me another cold look, turns on her heel, and storms down the hall.

"Sorry I got you in trouble," Silas whispers guiltily, his voice the only sound other than the steady pattering of water hitting the tile floor. "I was worried about you when you took off, and then I realized it was probably your first solo..."

I shake my head. "I had to tell her eventually."

"For what it's worth," he says, eyes still averted respectfully, "I thought you did great."

"Thanks, Silas." He finally meets my eyes, keeping his gaze firmly on my face. I tug the towel a little tighter.

"You're welcome. And I'm sorry for barging in. I didn't... um...
see
anything. I promise."