Covet

| Means to an End

It was almost mid-June, but fall had arrived outside the forest cabin. The early morning sun blazed in the sky but gave no warmth. I existed on two hours of broken sleep, eyeing the door every time the cabin creaked. Last night I dreamed of blood spreading and pooling under my feet. It soaked my clothes—it wouldn't stop.

David was in a deep sleep when I closed the door behind me. I'd tried to recall where exactly I hid the van. How far was it? My eyes were dazzled by a ray of the sun reflecting on the windshield through the bramble. At least it was nearby. I strolled over to the van, unlocking it.

My eyes roamed the gaps in the pine trees that surrounded the clearing. Dried leaves whipped around my feet, and the undergrowth cracked beneath the weight of a step. I waited, hoping the sound wouldn't repeat, but it did. There was no point turning. I knew who it was.

"Come on out, Paul."

"I understand if you're feeling... hysterical?" he said.

"C'mere, see for yourself." I put bravery behind my words that didn't echo the sentiment in my heart. If Lucille had bestowed one thing last night, it was to trust no one. Her words had been trusted to David alone, and now I had my work cut out for me to find her myself.

"I'm not sure, but the ominous calm may be worse," he replied, stepping out of the tree cover with one arm raised in surrender, and the other dropped a lit cigarette. His eyes took in everything about me but held a reserve that gave nothing in return.

Is Paul still safe? I stilled my mind and tried to read the subtle shifts in the wind, as he had once told me to do. Nothing.

"Yes, I'm safe," he said. "I came to make sure you're okay. This,"—he gestured around the clearing —"was the last place I thought you'd come. You have your answers now, and I'm no threat. The first thing I did was teach you how to listen for signs of danger. You already know I'm not. If I ever meant you harm, would I have taught you that first?"

I refused to be lured back in by his half-truths. He was always right and wrong, leaving me needing clarification. "If you meant no harm, why did you want to rip my throat out last night?"

"That wasn't supposed to happen. I needed longer to catch your scent, for my wolf to recognize who you were between states. We've spent millennia being hunted by your kind. Those instincts don't just fold for a pretty girl." Paul's face was absent of humor. "Change your perception of what the world is. Different rulebook, remember?"

He tapped his temple. "There's a cognitive link within these woods, the rush of salt air by the ocean. Nature is majestic and strong. It works to its own set of rules here. Don't you want to play by that rulebook instead now?"

"After last night, I'm ready to burn your goddamn rulebook."

"I can help you learn," he said. "Nothing has to change if you don't let it."

"Not anymore. Not from you."

His eyes narrowed. "From Carlyle? You'll get nothing but a tainted version of the truth from him."

"I would say the same thing about you. Carlyle undoubtedly has an agenda of his own, but we want the same things. He will help me. Your dad was talkative last night, and I'm only a few pieces short of the complete puzzle. I no longer need your version of the truth."

He held up a warning finger. "Without context, Dana, you'll be no more enlightened than when you arrived in town."

"Says you? I know what I saw, and I want no part in it. You can talk all you like about nature and rulebooks, and go for your frolics in the wood butt naked, but what you did crosses a boundary that nature should not allow. If you're ready to answer my questions, start with this: Why did Lucille not trust any of you? Why did she, with clear purpose, incite my return to town by faking her death?"