Wolf Dude

The next morning, I stood at the edge of the woods behind Grandma's cottage, wondering how a person was supposed to summon a werewolf.

I hadn't thought to ask for his phone number. Or his address. Or even his name, which was going to make this conversation considerably more awkward if I actually managed to find him.

"Hello? Wolf Dude?"

A bird chirped somewhere above me. I sighed; this might be more difficult than I thought.

"I know you're probably busy doing… wolf things, but I need to talk to you."

I waited another minute, feeling increasingly stupid. I was about to head home when a voice spoke behind me.

"You could try calling for me by name."

I spun around.

The man from my garden stood a few feet away, wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. His black hair was slightly disheveled, and those yellow-gold eyes were watching me with entirely too much amusement.

"I don't KNOW your name!"

"Wyatt."

"Well, Wyatt, you could've led with that instead of lurking in the woods like a creep."

"You came into the woods looking for me."

"That doesn't mean I wanted you sneaking up on me."

"I walked up behind you."

"Very quietly."

He shrugged, as though that settled the matter.

Yesterday, I might have found the exchange funny. Today, all I could see was Daniel lying in that bed with bandages covering his chest and shoulder.

Wyatt noticed me looking at him. His smile faded.

"What?"

"I need to ask you about something that happened near the boundary."

His expression closed off so quickly that I almost missed it. "What did the Huntsmen tell you?"

"Why do you assume I've been talking to the Huntsmen?"

"Because you smell like their lodge."

I looked down at my coat. "That is an incredibly unsettling thing to say to someone."

"Did Ezekiel send you?"

"No. I went to see a man who was badly injured, and now I'm here because I want to hear your side of what happened."

"My side of what?"

"A Huntsman named Daniel was attacked near the eastern boundary. He says a large, dark-furred wolf did it."

Wyatt folded his arms. "And you believe him?"

"I believe he's hurt. I saw the wounds myself."

"Then you've seen what happens when Huntsmen go looking for trouble."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"They enter our territory carrying weapons, then act surprised when something fights back."

"Daniel said he was patrolling near the boundary."

"And you took his word for it."

"I came here to ask you what happened. That's generally what people do when they're trying to find out the truth."

"You came here to repeat a Huntsman's accusation."

"No, I came here because a man nearly died, and I'd like to know whether the person responsible is planning to do it again."

Wyatt looked past me toward the cottage. "Tell Ezekiel to keep his men out of our territory."

"You can tell him yourself."

"I have nothing to say to him."

"Fantastic. That should make negotiating a new agreement really easy."

His eyes returned to mine. "Is that what you think you're doing?"

"I haven't gotten very far, as you may have noticed."

"There's no agreement, Alora. The Huntsmen don't get to march into our woods and demand protection from the consequences."

"I know there's no agreement. That's why I'm trying to figure out what happened before someone decides to retaliate."

"Then ask the Huntsmen why Daniel was there."

"I did. He said he heard something moving in the trees."

Wyatt gave a humorless laugh. "And you believed that, too."

My patience, already in short supply, was rapidly approaching zero.

"Do you know who attacked him or not?"

"I know the Huntsmen have been crossing the boundary since your grandmother died."

"That isn't what I asked."

"It's the answer you're getting."

I took a breath. Grandma had apparently managed to keep these people from killing each other for forty years. I was beginning to think her greatest gift hadn't been magic. It had been the ability to conduct a conversation without strangling someone.

"Did you attack Daniel?"

Wyatt went very still.

"What did you just ask me?"

"You heard me."

He unfolded his arms and took a step toward me. "You come looking for me in the woods, accuse me of attacking a Huntsman, and expect me to stand here answering your questions?"

I held my ground, although I was suddenly very aware how far away the cottage actually was.

"I'm asking because I don't know."

"Then perhaps you should be more careful about what you ask."

He took another step.

Wyatt was tall. I'd noticed that when he'd been standing in Grandma's kitchen, but I hadn't appreciated quite how much taller he was until he was looming over me in the middle of the woods. His voice had dropped, and there was nothing amused about his expression now.

I stepped back before I could stop myself.

His gaze flicked to my feet. He knew I was frightened, and the bastard didn't move away.

"Are you threatening me?" I asked.

"I'm telling you that walking into the woods alone to accuse a werewolf of murder would be a very stupid thing to do."

"I didn't accuse you of murder. I was asking you a question."

My mouth went dry.

I thought of Daniel's wounds again. The deep marks across his ribs. The bandages around his shoulder. A wolf had done that to a trained Huntsman, and I was standing here arguing with one who could probably reach me before I managed to turn around.

Then I thought of Grandma.

She had lived in that cottage alone. She'd trusted these people enough to spend decades keeping the peace between them. And now she was dead, with Ezekiel claiming that werewolves had killed her.

I looked up at Wyatt. "Did you kill my grandmother?"

Whatever he'd expected me to say, it wasn't that.

His expression went blank. For a moment, neither of us moved.

He glared at me. It felt like his eyes were piercing into my soul. A cold sensation spread through my chest.

He might as well have told me he could kill me whenever he wanted. Maybe that was exactly what he meant.

I backed away from him. This time, I didn't care whether he noticed.

"I think we're done here."

"Yeah. We're done," he agreed, backing away.