door, certainly not further than the yard. She glanced uneasily at the open windows. Wolves normally avoided humans and she’d never heard of one attacking a building … still, it might be good to close the windows. She moved toward the one near the front door. Twilight lingered, maybe she could get a look at the area.
She wasn’t prepared for the crash as the animal leaped through the fluttering
curtains near the kitchen. Its fangs were bared, its ears flat and its eyes feral. It stopped and shook itself and then sighted her. With a low menacing growl it began to stalk toward her.
For a split second, Sara stood paralyzed, thinking oddly that this must be how a deer felt caught in the headlights. Then instinct took over. Her hand felt for the knob of the door. Goddess, don’t make me have to take a step … wildly, she tried to remember
… was she supposed to stare the animal down or was she supposed to avoid challenging him? It didn’t really matter. With the wolf’s lip curled, those deadly fangs were exposed. She found she couldn’t look away.
She groped frantically. The animal was circling now, closing in. How many
seconds did she have before he’d make that final leap?
Her hand struck metal. She hardly allowed herself a breath of relief as she turned the knob and swung the door open. The wolf’s head snapped up, scenting the air, momentarily distracted from its prey.
Sara took advantage of the moment and ran out the door, pulling it shut behind her as the wolf’s heavy body landed solidly against it. She heard its howl of rage and sprinted toward her car, praying she had left it unlocked. She could hear the wolf scratching at the wood as it pulled itself up toward the kitchen window. Her hand trembled as she reached the car and gave the handle a yank. It didn’t budge.
Fighting back rising panic, she tried to think. Her keys were in her purse. Her purse was in the cabin. The wolf was nearly outside, but she doubted she could get back inside before he spotted her. And she didn’t feel like standing on the front porch posing as his next meal.
Trees. Wolves didn’t climb trees. The mesquite were probably too low to offer protection, but there were scrub oaks not far. She started to run and then skidded to a stop not five feet from her car.
Another wolf stood near some sage. It was massive, easily the size of a
wolfhound—Sara felt a bubble of hysteria rising at the irony of conjuring up a dog bred to hunt wolves—but much bulkier. Its thick, shiny fur was so pale a brown it seemed blond, and looked almost groomed. Another bubble of hysteria rose. What was she going to think of next? Petting him?
She forced a deep breath. At least, this one wasn’t growling at her. In fact, he was not menacing at all. His ears were pricked forward, his nose up, his golden eyes trained on something behind her.
The tiny hairs on her arms rose. She felt, rather than heard, the first wolf
SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 46
approaching, silently this time. Almost frantically, she tried to center herself. If she could stay calm and draw in energy, she might be able to create an astral shield. Animals could sense well on the astral plane. But she had to be in control of her own emotions to do it.
The wolf behind her snarled and Sara would never be too sure of what happened
next. The pale wolf brushed past her, knocking her to the ground as it attacked the first wolf. Sara rolled out of the way of snapping jaws and sharp fangs as the animals fought and then ran for the cabin.
When she reached the door she heard a whimper. She glanced around as she
opened the door and nearly gaped. The wolf who had tried attacking her was limping away, its head drooped, its tail between its legs in defeat. The huge lobo stood in the middle of the yard watching her.
“You really are beautiful,” she said softly and then wondered if she gone totally insane to be talking to an animal that could kill her if she didn’t get
She wasn’t prepared for the crash as the animal leaped through the fluttering
curtains near the kitchen. Its fangs were bared, its ears flat and its eyes feral. It stopped and shook itself and then sighted her. With a low menacing growl it began to stalk toward her.
For a split second, Sara stood paralyzed, thinking oddly that this must be how a deer felt caught in the headlights. Then instinct took over. Her hand felt for the knob of the door. Goddess, don’t make me have to take a step … wildly, she tried to remember
… was she supposed to stare the animal down or was she supposed to avoid challenging him? It didn’t really matter. With the wolf’s lip curled, those deadly fangs were exposed. She found she couldn’t look away.
She groped frantically. The animal was circling now, closing in. How many
seconds did she have before he’d make that final leap?
Her hand struck metal. She hardly allowed herself a breath of relief as she turned the knob and swung the door open. The wolf’s head snapped up, scenting the air, momentarily distracted from its prey.
Sara took advantage of the moment and ran out the door, pulling it shut behind her as the wolf’s heavy body landed solidly against it. She heard its howl of rage and sprinted toward her car, praying she had left it unlocked. She could hear the wolf scratching at the wood as it pulled itself up toward the kitchen window. Her hand trembled as she reached the car and gave the handle a yank. It didn’t budge.
Fighting back rising panic, she tried to think. Her keys were in her purse. Her purse was in the cabin. The wolf was nearly outside, but she doubted she could get back inside before he spotted her. And she didn’t feel like standing on the front porch posing as his next meal.
Trees. Wolves didn’t climb trees. The mesquite were probably too low to offer protection, but there were scrub oaks not far. She started to run and then skidded to a stop not five feet from her car.
Another wolf stood near some sage. It was massive, easily the size of a
wolfhound—Sara felt a bubble of hysteria rising at the irony of conjuring up a dog bred to hunt wolves—but much bulkier. Its thick, shiny fur was so pale a brown it seemed blond, and looked almost groomed. Another bubble of hysteria rose. What was she going to think of next? Petting him?
She forced a deep breath. At least, this one wasn’t growling at her. In fact, he was not menacing at all. His ears were pricked forward, his nose up, his golden eyes trained on something behind her.
The tiny hairs on her arms rose. She felt, rather than heard, the first wolf
SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 46
approaching, silently this time. Almost frantically, she tried to center herself. If she could stay calm and draw in energy, she might be able to create an astral shield. Animals could sense well on the astral plane. But she had to be in control of her own emotions to do it.
The wolf behind her snarled and Sara would never be too sure of what happened
next. The pale wolf brushed past her, knocking her to the ground as it attacked the first wolf. Sara rolled out of the way of snapping jaws and sharp fangs as the animals fought and then ran for the cabin.
When she reached the door she heard a whimper. She glanced around as she
opened the door and nearly gaped. The wolf who had tried attacking her was limping away, its head drooped, its tail between its legs in defeat. The huge lobo stood in the middle of the yard watching her.
“You really are beautiful,” she said softly and then wondered if she gone totally insane to be talking to an animal that could kill her if she didn’t get
Similar Books
