The Secret Lodge

I didn't really know what helping Zeke would entail, but I was willing to try. I looked at Zeke, then at Grandma's notebook lying open on the kitchen table. There were several questions I still wanted to ask him, including why he'd neglected to mention meeting Grandma the day before she died. Unfortunately, the possibility of a badly injured man bleeding to death while I conducted an interrogation in my kitchen made me feel like a terrible person.

"I'll come and talk to him," I said. "That doesn't mean I believe the wolves attacked him."

Zeke's jaw tightened. "He saw the wolf."

"That is what you tell me, but I'll ask him what he saw."

"And if he tells you exactly what I've already told you?"

"Then I'll have heard it from the person who was actually there."

He stared at me for a moment. I stared back. Grandma had apparently spent forty years doing this, which made me wonder whether her death had been caused by werewolves or simply by the accumulated stress of dealing with men who thought repeating themselves counted as evidence.

"Get your coat," Zeke said.

"Please."

"What?"

"You forgot to say please."

He closed his eyes. "Please get your coat, Alora."

"See? We're already making progress."

I grabbed my coat, slipped Grandma's notebook into the kitchen drawer, and followed him outside.

His vehicle was parked a little way down the road. I hadn't noticed it earlier, possibly because I'd been preoccupied with the armed stranger in my house and the giant wolf outside it. It was an old dark-green truck with mud on the tires and a collection of scratches along the passenger door.

"Do all Huntsmen drive trucks?" I asked as I climbed in.

"No."

"Just the ones who break into cottages?"

"I didn't break in."

"You were inside my locked house without an invitation."

He started the engine, and we drove away from the cottage. The road wound through the trees, away from town. I watched the dark shapes passing outside my window and tried not to think about how many wolves might be lurking among them.

"Where are we going?"

"To our lodge."

"What do you mean, our lodge? It's not mine, is it?"

"No, not yours. The Huntsmen's."

"Of course. Why have a normal house when you can have a secret lodge in the woods?"

"It isn't secret."

"Does it have a sign?"

"No."

"Then it's doing a pretty good impression of one."

Zeke didn't answer, but I caught the faintest movement at the corner of his mouth.

A few minutes later, I asked, "What happened to the agreement?"

His expression changed. "You read the notebook."

"Enough to know Grandma was supposed to keep the peace. The wolf said the agreement ended. You haven't exactly denied it."

"It ended when your grandmother died."

"Why?"

"We don't know."

I studied his profile. "You don't know, or you don't want to tell me?"

He glanced at me. "I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't want you to understand what's happening."

"You came to me because someone got hurt."

"Yes."

"And you want me to do what, exactly? Punish the wolves for breaking an agreement that doesn't exist anymore?"

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. "I want you to stop them before someone else gets hurt."

"Then we need to find out who attacked your friend. Because even if a wolf did it, that doesn't mean every werewolf in the forest was involved."

"I know that."

"Good. I'd hate for us to arrive at your secret lodge and discover I'm expected to declare war before dinner."

"For the last time, Alora, it is not a secret lodge."

"Still no sign, though."

This time, I was fairly certain he smiled.

The lodge turned out to be a large timber building set back from a clearing, with several smaller structures behind it. As the light shone through the windows, I could see two handsome, burly men standing near the entrance. They watched us climb out of the truck.

They looked at Zeke first, then at me.

"This is Alora Whitmore," he told them.

Both men straightened.

I resisted the urge to check whether I had something on my face.

Inside, the building smelled of woodsmoke, coffee, and something medicinal. A few people sat around a long table, but conversation stopped when we entered. I'd been expecting a collection of terrifying men polishing swords. Instead, one of them was eating a sandwich, and another had a pair of reading glasses balanced on his nose.

Somehow, that made the swords leaning against the wall more unsettling.

An older woman approached us. "You brought her."

"She agreed to speak with Daniel," Zeke said.

The woman looked me over. "I'm Mara. I've been treating him."

"How is he?"

"Awake. In pain. Stubborn enough to argue with me about both."

"That sounds promising."

"It's better than the alternative." She turned toward a hallway. "Come along."

Daniel was lying in a narrow bed in a room at the back of the lodge. He looked to be in his thirties, with short brown hair and a face so pale that the bruising along his jaw stood out sharply. One arm was bandaged, and a blanket covered his legs.

Then Mara folded the blanket back so she could check the dressing on his side.

I stopped walking.

Four long wounds ran across his ribs, disappearing beneath thick layers of gauze. The skin around them was swollen and dark with bruising. There were more bandages across his shoulder, where something had clearly bitten down hard enough to leave a terrible injury.

I'd seen wounds like that in movies. In real life, there was no dramatic music to warn you when to look away.

"Alora?" Zeke said quietly.

"I'm fine."

I wasn't, but Daniel was watching me, and I wasn't about to make his injuries about my feelings.

"Hi," I said, moving closer. "I'm Alora. Sorry to bother you when you're probably wishing everyone would leave you alone."

Daniel gave a weak laugh. "Mara won't let me out of bed. Talking's about all I've got left."

"Then I have a few questions, if that's okay."

He nodded.

I pulled a chair beside the bed. Zeke remained near the door, his arms folded.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was patrolling near the eastern boundary. Heard something moving through the trees, so I went to check it out. Next thing I knew, a wolf came at me."

"Did you get a good look at it?"

"Big. Dark fur. Fast as hell."

"Did you see it turn into a person?"

"No."

"Did it say anything?"

Daniel blinked. "It was a wolf. It was not in human form."

"Right. Sorry."

"I didn't even get a warning," he said. "It just attacked."

I looked at the bandages again. A wolf had done that. A creature with teeth and claws, strong enough to tear through a grown man who knew how to defend himself.

I thought of Grandma alone in her cottage. She'd been small in her last few years. She'd complained about her knees whenever she climbed the front steps, though she still insisted on carrying her own groceries. I tried to imagine her facing an animal powerful enough to do this to Daniel, and my stomach turned.

The wolf outside my window had been enormous. He'd stood there watching me while Zeke told me Grandma had been murdered. I'd been so distracted by the fact that he later turned into a handsome, infuriating man that I hadn't really considered what those teeth could do.

"Did you recognize the wolf?" I asked.

Daniel shook his head. "Never seen it before."

"Was there anyone else nearby?"

"I don't think so."

"Why were you patrolling the boundary if the agreement has ended?"

Zeke shifted behind me, but Daniel answered before he could speak.

"Because the agreement ending means the wolves can start coming into our territory. I was patrolling."

"Have they been attacking people?"

"Not until this."

I glanced at Zeke. He didn't look pleased by the answer, but he didn't contradict it.

Daniel winced as Mara adjusted his dressing, and I decided I'd asked enough. I thanked him and followed Zeke into the hallway.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

"You see why I came to you," he said at last.

"Yes."

"Then you understand the danger."

I looked back toward Daniel's room. "I understand that someone nearly killed him. And I understand that if Grandma was attacked by a wolf, she wouldn't have stood much of a chance."

Zeke's expression softened. "Alora..."

"But Daniel couldn't identify the wolf. We still don't know who attacked him or who killed my grandma."

"I know."

I'd expected him to argue. Instead, he stood beside me in the quiet hallway, looking as tired as I suddenly felt.

"I'll help you find out what happened," I said. "Tomorrow, I need to hear the werewolves' side."

His face hardened again. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You broke into my house, then I got into your truck and came to your lodge. I think we're well past good ideas."

"Alora, you don't know what they're capable of."

I thought of Daniel's wounds. For the first time, I was beginning to understand what my role was supposed to be.

"That's exactly why I need to talk to them."