Howling in the night. Strange shadows, and even stranger explanations from her neighbors. Grace Steven’s vacation is turning into a mystery of furry proportions as she tries to unravel the secret about Will and his unusual servant. She is momentarily distracted by the Hunt, but the mystery deepens when she finds herself on the receiving end of a pair of hungry golden eyes.
After that stressful adventure, I returned to my cabin and plopped down on the couch. My mind kept replaying Will's ghastly face and Vuk's sudden, miraculous appearance. I glanced down at the trinket around my neck and gently fingered the cover. A sign of friendship, or something more? My roaming eyes fell on a calendar. It was outdated, but it reminded me that my vacation clock was ticking and we would be split apart. I didn't do so well with long-distance relationships.
I rolled my eyes. “He's not that interested in you,” I scolded myself. The locket in my hand argued against the point pretty convincingly.
“He cares for you a little. Why else would he be bothering with a secretary?” my other self argued.
I snorted. “Why else would someone want to bother with a secretary? Maybe something to do with breasts,” I retorted.
“You're lying to yourself, and not doing a very good job,” I countered.
What I'm doing is arguing with myself and getting nowhere with it,” I returned.
All this mono-human arguing and the adventure left me exhausted and no further toward knowing, rather than guessing, what Will's intentions were. I slipped on my nightshirt and retired to the bedroom. I placed the locket on the nightstand, tucked myself beneath the covers, and fell into a deep sleep.
A few hours later, my sleep was disturbed by a new sound. It was the howl of a wolf. I sat up in bed with my eyes so wide they could have been mistaken for car headlights. My heart pounded in my chest, and I slowly turned leftward toward the window beside the bed. Another howl echoed through the air. The hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention. I pulled aside the curtain and glanced at Will's cabin. There was a faint glow from one of the windows, and I could see the car sitting in the driveway. Everything was still and silent.
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand that sat behind the locket. Midnight. The Witching Hour, or too-damn-late if you were a tired vacationing secretary. I wasn't tired for long when I tried to remember if I'd locked the front door. By the sounds, this wasn't a serial killer, but I didn't want to risk the possibility that the wolf had acquired human-level intelligence and figured out how to use knobs.
I flung aside my bedsheets, slipped on a pair of bunny slippers I'd found in the closet, and shuffled into the open space of the cabin. The space was dark, and light filtered through the thin curtains over the windows. The furniture cast shadows on the floor, and the dead animals loomed larger than their former life in the near-darkness.
I crept over to the front door and froze when another howl resounded through the cabin. It was close, but not beside the cabin, and there was a muffled quality to it that made me think it was in a thick-walled box. I made it to the door and was relieved to find I had locked it. I turned toward my bedroom, but a sudden, sharp cry of pain stopped me in my tracks. The noise came from Will's cabin. I rushed to the dining window that faced the cabin and brushed aside the curtains to look outside.
The single light was still on, but nothing moved inside or outside the building. My heart beat so loud I could have performed at a rock concert. I had to see what was wrong. Maybe Will was in trouble and needed help. Maybe something happened to Vuk, and Will was all alone. Maybe I was making a really stupid decision by going out there with a wolf howling. Actually, that last maybe was a definite, but I wasn't going to let common sense stop me from seeing if Will and Vuk were all right.
I glanced around for some weapon to use. My eyes fell on the poker beside the fireplace. I grabbed my newfound sword, held it out in front of me, and unlocked the door. I paused and listened. The night was still. No howling, no yelling. I slipped on a coat, opened the door a crack, and peeked my head out. The world was enveloped in shadows. Nothing stirred in the brush nor in the air. The trees loomed over me with their branches reaching out to grab an unsuspecting woman about to save the day. It was quiet and still.
I slunk out the door and off the porch onto the stone path. The light was still on in Will's cabin, and I sprinted toward it as though it were a beacon in a thick fog. I reached the window, grabbed the sill, and tried to look through the window, but the curtain was too thick to see anything definite. I needed to get inside.
I moved to the front and onto the small stoop. A noise behind me made me clutch my weapon and swing around. Nothing was there. Maybe it had been my imagination. I backed up to the wall beside the door and hurriedly knocked on the wood. No answer. Not even footsteps. I knocked again, but received the same non-reply. I felt the shadows creep closer to me, so I tried the knob. It was unlocked. I slipped inside and eagerly basked in the glow of the electric light above me. It scared away most of my nightmares, but didn't show me that anyone was home.
“Hello?” I whispered. My voice was stuck on a low tone. “Will? Vuk?” No reply. The eerie silence was almost as oppressive as the darkness outside. I took a step deeper into the cabin to the left toward the fireplace. Nobody was on the couch like I hoped. My voice cracked on the next few words. “Anyone here?” Again nothing.
There was a great slam behind me. I jumped and swung around to see that the door had shut behind me. My heart beat to a tempo somewhere past light-speed. I clutched my chest and took a few deep breaths. That helped calm me down. I turned and screamed.
Vuk stood less than a foot in front of me and just in front of the fireplace. His face was ghastly pale, and he clutched one hand to himself. The hand was covered in bloodied bandages. I was about to perform another solo opera number when Vuk slid behind me and wrapped his bloodied hand around my waist. His other hand was slapped over my mouth, stifling my future career as an opera star.
