Andrea Cremer
Bloodrose
The third book in the Nightshade series, 2012
PART I
AIR
ONE
I COULD HEAR each heavy beat of my heart. The sound seemed to ebb from my veins out of my body, traveling across the empty space between the shimmering portal and the dark house.
He was there. I had no doubt. Though I couldn’t see him or even catch the slightest hint of his warm, smoky scent, I knew he was there. Waiting for me. But why? Why would Ren come to this lonely place?
My gaze traveled over the shadows that twisted as clouds slid over the moon, reminding me too much of wraiths. I stared at the sky so I didn’t have to look at the houses, or the skeletal frames of those left unfinished. Time had been frozen here. The mountain slope, cleared of trees to make way for a cul-de-sac and ring of houses, whispered of a past unreachable. The sprawling Haldis Compound-or what would have become the Haldis Compound-lay before me, composed of luxury homes built exclusively for the pack Ren and I would have led together. Our pack’s den. Our home.
I turned to face Adne, trying to hide my shivering. “Stay out of sight. You’ll hear me if there’s a problem, and if I come running, you’d better open a door fast. No matter what, don’t come looking for me. ”
“Deal,” she said, already backing toward the forest. “Thank you, Calla. ”
I nodded before I shifted into wolf form. Adne melted into shadows. When I was satisfied that no one would be able to detect her, I began to stalk toward the house.
Its windows were dark, the structure silent. For all appearances it looked empty, but I knew it wasn’t.I kept my muzzle low, testing the air. We’d arrived upwind from the compound, which left me feeling vulnerable. I wouldn’t be able to pick up the scent of anyone hidden by night’s veil until I was almost on top of them. My ears flicked back and forth, alert, listening for any sign of life. There was nothing. No rabbits dashing for cover under brush, nor did nocturnal birds flit through the sky. This place wasn’t just abandoned; it felt cursed, as if nothing dared tread within the boundaries of the clearing.
I picked up my pace, covering the distance to the house, leaping over snowdrifts, my nails scraping on rivers of ice that had frozen on the pavement. When I reached the front steps, I stopped to sniff the ground. My eyes followed fresh paw prints that became boot tracks, climbing the steps. Ren’s scent was sharp, new. He’d arrived only slightly before we had. I slowly moved up to the porch, shifting forms to open the screen door. I carefully turned the doorknob. The house wasn’t locked. I let the door swing open. It made a slight creak but nothing else. I slipped inside, closing the door and turning the dead bolt. If someone did come after me, I wanted warning of their arrival.