Read Online Sisters Red by Jackson Pearce - Free Book Online

wails behind me and I hear him shouting my name, but I don't stop, far too ashamed to even consider seeing him right now. He's wrong about me. I haven't grown up; I'm still the stupid little girl I was a year ago.
    My heart is pounding and my skin sticky with sweat by the time I make it through the field. I trudge slowly toward our cottage, trying to breathe and get the tearstains off my cheeks. I should be proud. I just soloed, just killed a Fenris on my own.
    And also let one get away, one who will now be starving after trying to attack me.
    Also, let someone see me hunting.
    Also, I'm pathetic.
    I creep in through the back door, relieved to hear the dull thuds of Scarlett slamming the punching bag in the cellar-turned-training-room. I hurry upstairs, peeling away my wet and bloodied clothes. Once I'm in the shower with Screwtape standing guard on the bathroom rug, I cry. Silent, choked sobs of inadequacy. I have to tell Scarlett about the Fenris that got away. I have to warn her that a bus driver and social worker could come pounding on our door in a few days. I'll have to tell her, and then she'll scold me and insist on hunting down the other Fenris immediately. Selfishly, I'm angry because I
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    know this means that the night I made cookies and picked out movies for is now shot to hell. God, I'm so stupid.
    I can stall. I can wait to tell her. We can have our movie night, I can get her in a good mood, and then we'll go out and hunt together. Just like always. Her anger will fade like it always does. If a social worker shows up, we can hide, Scarlett can insist Mom is around, we can stall... it will work out.
    "Rosie!" Scarlett shouts. There's fear in her voice, mixed with fury. I grit my teeth. My sister flings the bathroom door open, a hazy form behind the white shower curtain. "What happened? Are you okay?" she demands, voice dark enough to intimidate a wolf.
    "I... Scarlett," I say, cutting the water off. I sigh and reach for a towel.
    A voice interrupts my movement. "Look, Scarlett, come on, it was an accident--"
    Silas rounds the corner. I freeze, arm outstretched and still a few inches from the towel, body half exposed around the curtain. His mouth drops, cheeks flush, and he immediately whirls around to face the hallway.
    "Sorry, Rosie," he says quickly. He puts his hands into his pockets and bounces on his heels. My face turns bright red, goose bumps scattering across my arms from both the cold and the shivery feeling Silas is giving me.
    "Rosie, what happened? " Scarlett asks again through gritted teeth, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I'm still naked and Silas is still incredibly close. She grabs a towel off the rack and thrusts it into my outstretched hand.
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    "I was taking cookies to Silas's house," I mutter, wrapping the towel around myself hurriedly. I ignore the stream of water that runs from my hair down my back as the steam begins to fade away, leaving the room wet and muggy. I glance at Silas's back for a moment and then look at Scarlett. "I left them there when these two wolves jumped me. They were prowling together, I think. I took the older one out, but..."
    "Go on," she says in a steely tone. Silas shifts uncomfortably.
    "The young one got away." I sigh, guilt swimming through my head.
    Her jaw tightens. "Got away?" she says lowly, dangerously. "You couldn't go after him?"
    "I couldn't. He ran because the bus was coming up the road."
    "You fought... The bus? A bus full of people?" she snaps. "Did they see you?"
    "I..." My eyes well up with tears, and I'm very grateful Silas's back is still turned. "Yes. The driver saw me. So did Silas--he was coming from town and driving behind the bus. But the old wolf shadowed pretty quickly and I ran into that field of grass, and they didn't come after me--"
    "The bus driver didn't even get out of the bus," Silas interjects without looking at us. "She just drove on. I think she was hoping it was all in her head."
    "Wait, wait," Scarlett says, brushing past