“What about them?”
“I heard them when we scried for Becca’s location, which makes me think they’re near her. And they would be, because animals, especially wolves, are drawn to her.”
“Go on,” Franklin said.
“So far I share with Henry the ability to see, hear, communicate with ghosts, as well as his power of telekinesis. Becca, like Pru, has an affinity for animals. But Pru could also call the wolves.” Her gaze went to the wolf, which already stood at the motel room door.
“Let her out,” Owen said.
Cassandra, who was the closest, did. The instant Pru was outside, the long, lonely, chilling howl of a lone wolf lifted toward the sky. The faint outline of a moon occupied the horizon. Owen had always thought the days when both the moon and the sun were visible kind of creepy—as if they lived on a different planet altogether.
“I thought we had more time.” Raye’s gaze remained on the spooky daytime moon.
“What are you talking about?”
“Sacrifice of a witch by a Venatores Mali with the most kills, while the worthy believers chant, skyclad, beneath the moon. I thought that meant night.” She pointed at the watery, silver orb. “But apparently not.”
Owen’s chest tightened. “We need to hurry.”
Pru howled again. A moment later, what sounded like a dozen wolves, maybe more, maybe less, hard to tell, answered from a distance.
“How are we going to find them?” Owen asked.
Raye held up a hand as Pru howled a third time. When the wolves answered, they were a lot closer.
“We should probably head in their direction,” Bobby said. “A pack of wolves running down the street is going to cause more trouble than we need right now and waste far too much time.”
“Henry,” Raye snapped. “Tell Pru to hold them at the edge of town.”
The wolf loped in the direction of the woods at the opposite end of the street from Becca’s clinic. Reggie took one step after her.
“Bly’b.”
The dog glanced at Owen, then back at the figure of Pru in the distance. His expression was so melancholy Owen would have been amused if it wasn’t for … everything.
“She might be okay with you, pal, but her friends won’t be.” Reggie still belonged to the Marines. If Owen brought him back in several pieces there’d not only be hell to pay, but a lot of money. The dog was worth more than Owen was. “Hier.”
Reggie came, but he wasn’t happy about it.
Owen looked around for his pickup, then cursed when he remembered it was at the clinic, along with his Beretta. He glanced back at the motel room, missing the rifle he’d confiscated, and saw that Franklin had brought it along. Good man.
Owen flicked a finger at the cars in the lot. “Which one?”
Franklin headed for the dark sedan. Why had Owen even asked?
“I have a bigger car.” Bobby pointed at a Suburban, which barely fit into a single parking space. Everyone piled in, including Reggie, and they trolled after Pru. The ghost would have to get there on his own.
“I wish Edward was still here.” Franklin gave a half shrug at the incredulous glances thrown his way. “The guy’s damn good in a fight.”
“Problem is…” Cassandra jabbed a finger at the windshield. “It would be damn hard to keep him from fighting that.”
Spread across the road that led from Three Harbors and into the woods were at least twenty wolves.
*
“Y-y-you,” I managed. My teeth had begun to chatter, whether from shock over the blood loss, cold from the rain that now stung my face like icy needles, or the realization that Deb wasn’t my savior, I had no idea. Didn’t matter.
Chief Deb was one of them, and I was dead.
She ignored me. I hadn’t really said anything worth answering.
“Let’s get this over with,” she ordered.
“Fine by me.” Jeremy raised the knife again. “You know the chant?”
“I…” Deb’s face creased. “You got a cheat sheet?”
“Amateur.” Jeremy lowered the knife.
“It was you,” I blurted. “The animals. You were practicing.”
Deb shrugged.
“Why did you come to me about the ones that were missing if you took them?”
“Figured someone would ask you sooner or later and it would seem suspicious if I hadn’t done something about it before that.”
I had wondered why it had taken her so long. Hadn’t considered she was the one doing the grab and gut. Why would I?
“I didn’t think you’d find them. Of all the people in this town to go anywhere near the McAllister place, you were the one I’d bet the farm wouldn’t.”
She had a point.
“Like I said,” Jeremy repeated. “Amateur.”
“If you hadn’t tried to kill her right in the middle of town, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Deb snapped. “I messed up the crime scene as much as I could, but sheesh. Wearing a ski mask? Why not just wear an ‘I am a serial killer’ sign?”