Wolfsong (Green Creek 1) - Page 177

“ARE YOU ever going to change back?” I asked Elizabeth.

She licked my hand before she turned and walked into the forest.

I waited for a long time until she came back.

NO WORDS from him, this time.

Just a picture. The full moon.

I stared at it, running my thumb over it, like I could tell where he was just by looking at it.

I couldn’t, though.

FIVE WEEK

S after they left, and two days after the full moon, there was a knock at the door.

I had just gotten home from work (and home being the Bennett house because I could still see the stain on the floor at the old house). I sat at the kitchen table, back sore and fingers stained black. Elizabeth came in and lay at my feet, her snout resting on my boot, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Mark moved in the kitchen, watching over a pot on the stove. Whatever he was making smelled spicy and my stomach rumbled at the thought. I was hungry.

The moment before the knock came, both Elizabeth and Mark stiffened.

Then, three taps on the front door.

It wasn’t Rico or Chris or Tanner. I’d just left them at the shop not an hour ago. And they didn’t knock anymore. They just came in, bringing in dust and laughter and grease. They weren’t like the others had been. And I thought maybe that was a good thing.

So I knew it wasn’t them. And while Gordo had said that no one could approach the Bennett house who harbored ill will, given his wards, we still snapped to attention.

Elizabeth was up and moving toward the door even before the knocks died out.

Mark half shifted and went to the window, scanning the backyard to make sure we weren’t being surrounded.

I grabbed my crowbar.

The threads between us burst brightly.

And there were other threads.

Newer threads.

They were weak. Faint.

But they were there. I didn’t see where they led, but they pulsed gently.

The knock came again.

I approached the door.

Elizabeth growled quietly, coiled and ready to attack.

Mark moved off to my side, out of sight of anyone on the other side of the door.

I put my hand on the doorknob.

Took a breath.

And opened.

We were not attacked.

Tags: T.J. Klune Green Creek Fantasy
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