Witch Wolf

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Book: Witch Wolf by Winter Pennington Read Free Book Online
Authors: Winter Pennington
was, it would make it more difficult for me to track him.
    "I could wedge the van deeper into the woods?"
    I looked at the trees so closely knit together. "You'll scratch the van up and make too much noise."
    He pointed at the corner of the windshield.
    "I could park it between those trees right there."
    There was a break in the trees that I hadn't noticed. It wasn't much of a break, but it would be enough to hide a small car. The problem was, we weren't in a small car, but if Rupert was confident that he could do it, I wouldn't doubt him. He'd taught me a lot in the past several years and I respected the fact that he had a lot more experience than I did. Granted, my trust in anyone's judgment only goes so far.
    I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. I turned to tell Rupert to wait in the car when I saw the headlights at the far end of the road. I ducked down in my seat. "Shit, duck!"
    Rupert ducked. "What?"
    "There," I said, lifting the binoculars to my eyes as soon as the light passed. I had good eyesight, but lycanthropy didn't grant me a bird's-eye view. The binoculars helped, even if they did cast a sick green glow. I instinctively aimed them at the driver's side mirror. If I was going to see who was driving, that was where I needed to look. Unless they didn't adjust their mirrors. If that was the case, I was screwed.
    The face of the driver was familiar. It was the man that had been wearing the baggy jeans in the clearing.
    I checked the passenger's side, and Rosalin's profile came into view.
    I waited until I saw the car, a Cavalier, slow for the stop sign ahead. "Start the van, and follow them."
    "And if we get spotted?" he asked but started the van and put it in reverse.
    "Then we do what we do best."
    "Which would be?"

    "Confrontation."
    Rupert's version of a mad scientist's laugh filled the van.
    It was so horrible-I couldn't help it.
    I laughed. It wasn't until my vision went blurry with tears that I wiped my eyes and shook my head.
    Rupert followed about four car lengths behind the Cavalier. It wasn't until he'd sped up and navigated the van onto the highway that he flipped on the lights. We were three cars behind the one we were following. Rupert got into the far left lane. From there we were able to keep an eye on the car cruising down the middle lane. There wasn't too much traffic on a Tuesday night, but there was enough to provide cover.
    I looked around the seat I was sitting in. "Surely," I said, breaking the long, tense silence,"you've got some CDs in here to listen to?"
    Rupert spared a glance at me. "Check the glove compartment or on your side of the door."
    I opened the glove compartment and my fingers curled around something long and square shaped. Curious, I withdrew it from the glove box. There was a little button on it. I pressed the button and jumped as a spark of electricity zapped from the end closest to my body.
    "Shit," I said.
    "Leave it alone, Kass."
    "Right." I put the thing back where it belonged. I don't like electricity-at least not on my body.
    Arthur had once given me a flashlight at a crime scene. The incident taught me not to take flashlights from him, or anything that could potentially backfire on me. When I'd turned the flashlight on, it'd shocked the hell out of me, leaving currents of electricity tingling up and down my arm for five minutes afterward. Sensational? Yes. Did it feel good? No.
    I found a metallic CD case and unzipped it, flipping through pages of discs. It was a small case, and most of the music was either classical, heavy metal, or a combination of both. I plucked a Nightwish CD from the protective plastic and pushed it into the CD player. Rupert gave me a look before asking, "Nightwish?"
    "I'm not really in the mood for Mozart," I said.
    He nodded. I skipped through the first few songs on the album and stopped on track six. The song "The Siren" blared through the speakers as we steadily followed the car Rosalin was in. It began weaving in and out of

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