Caleb Read Free Page B

evil smile was back on its face as the
powerful muscles in its shoulders bunched in preparation to take her down.
    Oh
God, she should have run when she’d had the chance.
    This
time the thought that pushed into her mind was more coherent.
    Goddamn
it. Run!
    She
blinked. She’d recognize that deep baritone anywhere. That was Caleb’s voice.
The second wolf heaved to its feet, blood pouring in a dark river from its torn
neck, and charged the first, colliding with the gray wolf’s side in a violent
crash. Air grunted from the gray wolf’s lungs before momentum carried it and
those gnashing teeth away.
    Allie
dragged a shuddering breath into her own lungs, assimilated the near miss, and
then for once did as ordered. She ran. Straight down the road toward her house.
As fast as she could, the sounds of the battle not fading from her mind with
distance, actually seeming to increase with each step she took until she wanted
to cover her ears and scream from the primitive fury battering her sanity.
    With
a suddenness that made her stumble, the noise stopped. No grunts. No snarls. No
snapping of teeth. Just a hollow aching void that hurt more than the rage. She
stopped running, clutched her side against the searing stitch, and listened.
The calm of the night enfolded her once again in an ethereal beauty, unfazed by
the violence she knew had occurred, revealing nothing of the outcome.
    And
then it came, that strange connection and along with it the knowledge that that was what she’d been searching for. It wasn’t as strong, and it wobbled with an
uneven tempo, but the voice came to her again.
    Run.
    It
was Caleb’s voice. She knew it in her bones. She’d studied up enough on psychic
phenomenon to be convinced it was possible, but she’d never thought to
experience it. But she was. With Caleb Johnson. And he was telling her to run
in a mental voice so weak it was barely audible. Instead of running, she
hesitated.
    She
mentally tested the energy she could feel, grabbed it as best she could with
her thoughts, and asked, Where are you?
    He
didn’t answer, but the sense of urgency increased as the stitch in her side
eased. It was only twenty more steps to the base of her driveway. She took them
in a lurching jog, the keys jangling in her hands and her leg muscles shaking
as they struggled to meet her request. She stopped at her bright purple
mailbox, starkly illuminated in the strange light. The long shadows reached out
to her from her tree-lined drive. The arced branches of the poplar trees
hovered over the entrance, looking like huge, clawed hands just waiting for the
unwary to step within reach.
    Her
heart raced from exertion and pure fear as she forced herself into that pit of
darkness, the crunch of gravel scraping down the raw edge of her terror as she
took one step and then another. If there were any more of those wolves in the
shadows, she hoped they didn’t give any warning. She remembered the horrible
gushing wound on her savior’s neck and shuddered. She’d rather not know in
advance if one of them was planning on ripping her throat out. Her steps slowed
as she reached the darkest part of the driveway. A feeling of damned-if-she-did
and damned-if-she-didn’t froze her in place.
    What
if there was a whole ton of those monster wolves between her and the house?
    There
aren’t. But they’re coming.
    Oh,
shit! She glanced behind her. Nothing moved, but goose bumps sprang over her
skin, and the nape of her neck tingled with cold anticipation. “They’re”
implied more than one, and the one she’d tangled with had been bad enough. With
no other option, trusting the voice because she had to trust something, she
plunged into the gloom, a silent scream in her mind the only outlet she allowed
the terror eating her alive.
    Nothing
pounced as she raced through the dense darkness toward the moonlight ahead.
Nothing snapped at her heels or hit her back and brought her down, but the
feeling that any second she was going to be