Chapter Twenty

Glenna woke up, her body stiff with fear. A dark figure stood over her and for a moment she panicked, not knowing where she was or who was with her.

“Ah, you’re awake. We don’t have much time, Glenna.” A flash from the outside lights lit Alastair’s eyes. Then he moved and he was again engulfed in shadow. “I would love to get to know you better, my beauty, but it seems they’ve found our wandering wolf and they’ll be back soon.”

Glenna tried to sit up and move away, but her body was heavy, caught in sleep. She could see the room, see him, even blink her eyes, and feel his breath close to her cheek. But she was unable to twitch a finger.

She struggled to move, to make her body know it was awake.

She shut her eyes and willed herself to move.

Opened them, and she was alone in the dark. No sign Alastair had ever been there.

She shot up. Finally able to move, she snapped on the light next to her, her breath coming in harsh pants.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Alastair. I thought you’d like to know they’re on their way. Sam should be back to collect you in about a half hour. If you want to freshen up there’s a bathroom just down the hall.”

Alastair. Out in the hall. Not breathing in her face in the shadows. Another nightmare. She seemed to be having so many lately, even if she usually couldn’t remember them.

“Glenna? Are you alright?”

Damn it. She’d fallen asleep and lost her chance to make a phone call. She was still too weak.

“I’m fine.” She would be fine. She had to be. Her entire world had become a nightmare peopled with werewolves and bizarre events, but she would be fine. She just needed to get to the phone and call home.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

She stood up, stretched, tiptoeing on bare feet across the room to the door. She held her ear to the solid wood. She could almost feel his presence on the other side of the door, his breath faster than it should be after his short walk across the hall.

“I’m fine.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to leave, only the slender thickness of the door between them. The knob slowly turned and she tensed.

Finally, he let go of the door knob and it relaxed into place with a soft click. “I’ll be back soon.”

It sounded more like a threat than a promise.

Alastair’s footsteps moved across the floor towards the front door. He was leaving her alone. This was her chance.

Her heart knocking holes in her chest, she eased the door open and peered out into the dark hall. There was a heavy bang of the front door closing. Every sound of the old building made her twitch—the creak of the old boards under her feet, the wheeze of air through the vents. A sliver of light came from under the office door, but the rest of the building still held an odd feeling of anticipation—like an empty playground after dark.

She stole down the hall and looked out one of the windows on either side of the double doors. Outside the only light was from the lone streetlamp that lit up the corner of both the house and the parking lot. Alastair strode along the gravel path, heading for an outlying lit-up building. No one else was in sight.

This was it.

She returned to the office and reached for the heavy brass knob. It turned easily. Sam must not have briefed the headmaster enough. It wasn’t even locked. She crept into the empty room and ran for the phone. She fiddled with the clear buttons in a row on the bottom below the numbers, before finally getting an extension. What was the deal with these people? Did no one have a new phone? She dialed the familiar number and the phone at Roger’s house rang and rang. Four rings and Roger’s smooth lawyer’s voice came on, telling her to leave a message.

“Damn it!” She hung up.

She tried her sister’s house. One ring. She heard a car pull up outside through the open window. Two rings. And another. Three rings and she heard the sound of the car doors slamming and men’s voices.

She almost put the receiver back down, but then Sarah picked up.

“Hello?”

“Sarah! Oh Sarah.”

“Yes?”

“Sarah, it’s me, Glenna.” Tears clogged up her throat. She never cried. She swallowed, smiling through the salty taste at her baby sister’s voice.

“I’m warning you—” The hard response didn’t sound at all like her warm, easygoing sister. “If you call here again, I will report you to the police.”

“Sarah...” She was cut off.

“Listen here, you bitch. It’s wrong to play jokes. I thought all this was over, but how can people like you continue to call and torture us. It’s cruel.”

“Sarah, hang up the phone.” Glenna heard Roger in the background. “We’ll have your number changed.”

“Damn right, I’m having my number changed.”

“Sarah, I’m not joking. It is me, it’s Glenna.”

“Screw you!” The phone slammed down leaving only the continued buzz of the disconnection ringing in Glenna’s ears.

“I’m sorry.” Sam stood in the doorway, his large body backlit from the dim hall light. “I should have told you earlier, in the car.”

“What’s going on?” She eased the phone down into the cradle. “Why would she say those things to me?”

He flipped the switch and bright overhead light flooded the room. “She thinks you’re dead. They all do.” There were deep lines of stress etched into his face and he looked tired.

“Why would they think that?”

“It was on the news this afternoon. The party line is that you never survived the attack. You’re dead.” His face blurred as his low voice hammered home her worst nightmare: Sarah—her baby sister, who she’d sworn to be there for, no matter what—thought she was dead. “It’s better this way, Glenna. They can grieve you and put you to rest. And you can start your life with us, your pack.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. He was lying. He had to be. No one would be so cruel as to tell her sister that she was dead. No one. Not even her kidnappers.