The Amazing Wolf Boy Page 16

  “What does it mean?” Brittany asked.

  “It means your friend is not concerned about himself. None of this.” She gestured at the pattern of cards. “None of it is about him. He senses evil and wants to stop it.”

  “Evil?” What was this about? I wasn’t worried about evil. Except maybe the murders of those poor women.

  “It’s closer than you realize.” The grandmaster leaned over the images. “Madness. Shocking revelation. I fear you are in danger. No, not you. Someone you care for.”

  “What?” I stiffened.

  She added to the pattern. “Inner Feelings. Represented by Temperance. Moderation. But External Influences draws The Devil, signifying pleasure and abandon. The evil is not within you. It is tracking you. It enjoys the game.”

  “Can we get back to someone I care about being in danger?” I asked.

  “Your Hope and Fear.” She turned the card theatrically.

  “The High Priestess,” Brittany said. “Knowledge.”

  “You want to know but are afraid of what you might learn.”

  “Know what?” I said.

  “What the evil is,” said Brittany.

  “Or whom.” The grandmaster looked at each of us in turn. She whispered, “The Final Outcome,” and turned a card.

  “Oh, no,” cried Brittany.

  “The Hanged Man. A time of Trial and Sacrifice. You must release something dear to you, for it can hurt you in ways you cannot expect. Dangerous. Let us draw three more for clarification. Judgment meaning rebirth or resurrection. The Fool giving us Infinite Possibilities. And the final card. The Chariot. War, Struggle, and Victory.” She smiled. “So, you have a difficult time ahead, but in the end you will win.”

  “Okay, but what did you mean by dangerous?”

  “Danger can mean anything from being kidnapped by a mass murderer to making poor life choices.”

  I pointed. “This one means sacrifice?”

  “As previously mentioned, please do not dwell on a single card. Look at the reading as a whole. I believe that while you face a period of turmoil and revelation, you will prevail.”

  I glared. Not if it meant sacrificing Brittany.

  We left the grandmaster abruptly. I think Brittany noticed my soured mood. We didn’t speak on the way home, each entertaining our own thoughts. In my uncle’s driveway, we sat in silence for a moment.

  At last, I said, “Why did you take me there?”

  “I was hoping for something that would make you stop being a werewolf. For a while, I thought we were on the right track. All that talk of transformation and moon madness.” Brittany looked at me. “What did she mean about you wanting to stop evil?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t go hunting for trouble.”

  She nodded. “It doesn’t look like your uncle is home.”

  “He’s gone a lot.” I didn’t much like being alone. You’d think I’d be used to it, me being the only child of two doctors. But Uncle Bob was out more and more. I was beginning to think my presence cramped his style. “Do you want to come in?”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  Brittany handed me one of the bags with the candles, and we walked slowly to the porch. The wind was damp and chilling. I opened the door and held it for her.

  “Doesn’t he ever lock up?” she asked.

  “Nope.” I smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  We went to my room and dumped the bags onto my bed. One of the brass candleholders bounced to the floor. I checked it for damage.

  “Here.” She handed me her keys. “Find due north.”

  “You have a compass on your keychain?”

  “Of course.”

  She apparently didn’t find that unusual, so I shrugged and found due north.

  Brittany placed a chunky white candle on the point. Then she went around the room setting down more candles—south, east, and west. “Do you have matches?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “You’ll have to get some. You need to keep these lit at all times, even when you’re not here.”

  “Uncle Bob won’t like that.” I wondered about home insurance.

  “It’s necessary. That way, you’ll have a haven to come back to. White purifies. You’ll feel a difference in the room soon.”

  I felt a difference just having her there. “What about the prism?”

  “It will reflect dark spirits from your window so they can’t enter. We need a small nail or maybe a thumbtack.”

  I frowned. My uncle would have what we needed in the shed, but I hated to rummage through his things. “Let me check the junk drawer. Be right back.”

  I hurried to the kitchen and opened the drawer. It overflowed with rubber bands, bits of electrical wire, and mini-golf pencils. In the back, I found a small hammer and a prescription bottle filled with nails. I even found a book of matches.

  “Got it,” I called as I rushed to my room. I stopped in the doorway.

  Brittany sat on my bed, putting the extra candles in a bag. She was so beautiful. I wanted to kiss her, wanted to lean her back against my pillow and touch her skin.

  A flush heated my cheeks. I avoided her eyes. “Where do you want the nail?”

  “Centered on top.”

  I thought belatedly that I might need a chair to stand on, but I must have grown a bit in the past few weeks. I had no trouble driving a nail above the window. She handed me the prism, and I hung it from its monofilament cord. Color danced over my walls.

  Close beside me, Brittany reached up and sent it spinning. I looked into her face, inches from mine. My heart skipped, and my mouth went dry. I licked my lips.

  She stepped away. “Got to go. I have a lot of things to do before my mother gets home.”

  “I’d be glad to help.”

  “Thanks, but it will be quicker if I do it myself. I kind of have a routine.” She picked up her purse.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “Sadly, no. I already have plans. It’s Mom’s only day off.” She smiled. “But maybe we can include you next Sunday.”

  “Shopping with your mother? I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Will you turn into a wolf tonight?”

  I was stricken by her matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t think so. I feel pretty normal.”

  “Good. We don’t need any more shocking revelations.”

  I stood on the porch as she drove away. When she was gone, the full impact of the day’s events struck me. I was the luckiest guy in the world. She’d seen me, she knew what I was and still wanted to be my friend. I didn’t expect that at all.

  Humming, I went inside to make a grilled peanut butter and bacon sandwich. The day couldn’t have turned out better. With Brittany’s help, I knew I would break the curse. I would be normal again.

  I ate over the sink, then wiped the skillet clean with a paper towel. Wind gusted through the window. The rain had moved on, and the temperature plummeted. I went to my room to light my candles. As I gazed at the prism, I thought it wasn’t so bad living in Florida.

  Had Brittany hinted that she wanted me to meet her mother?

  I pulled my laptop from under my bed intending to check the weather. This was the coldest I felt since I moved here. It was kind of exciting. But the computer reminded me of the photos Eff posted on the Internet. That jerk. I still didn’t know how to respond to his latest challenge.

  Was Eff the evil the grandmaster was talking about?

  My good mood deflated once more. Eff was a no-good jock, but I didn’t think he was the evil that threatened Brittany. It was someone else, someone I didn’t expect. A shocking revelation.

  I booted the computer. The local newsfeed was on my desktop. My mood fell further as I read the headlines. Two More Bodies Found.

  The story said one body was two days dead. The other was barely cold. The victims had their throats torn out and were partially disemboweled. Forensics now said that while it looked like an animal attack, the teeth marks were too large, and the slas
hes didn’t match any known beast. The sheriff’s department said they suspected a person or persons unknown armed with a jawbone. If the jaw were mounted on an axe handle or baseball bat, it would produce the type of wounds found on the victims. The attacks were officially classed as murders.

  My mouth dropped. I stumbled from bed and rushed into the living room. The jawbone, the big old jawbone that my uncle used as a paperweight was gone.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “Uncle Bob is the killer.”

  EIGHTEEN

  The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed that Uncle Bob was the killer—his strange hours, the fact that he had only one real friend. He used to invite me to go out with him, but he never did anymore. Not that I would, but still.

  I remembered my uncle raising his voice to me when I mentioned the first murder. I’d heard about it from old Mrs. Binkley. My uncle’s reaction surprised me. I thought he knew more than he was saying, but I was too preoccupied to follow up.

  Then there was the morning he came home with blood on him. He threw his shirt away casually, like it happened all the time. There were scratches on his neck. Catfight, he said. I should have realized.

  What should I do now?

  I paced the room, wringing my hands. I could turn him in, but all my proof was circumstantial. People liked him around here. They’d believe him before they believed me. But I couldn’t stay in the house with a serial killer.

  The thought stopped me cold. My uncle was a serial killer. How could he do this to me? I thought he was a good guy. I liked him.

  This was the evil from my Tarot card reading. The grandmaster had warned me—not what, but whom. But if she knew who it was all along, why didn’t she tell me?

  Maybe she meant someone else. Maybe I was wrong.

  Frantically, I searched the living room—stacking newspapers, looking under the recliner. The jawbone wasn’t there.

  The killer would mount the jaw on an axe handle, the sheriff stated in the article. Either an axe handle or…

  I sank to the floor. A baseball bat. My uncle kept a bat in the cab of his truck. He was evil. A murderer.

  How could I prove it? I needed to act normal and try to catch him doing something weird, something I could take to the sheriff. It was dangerous, but I would prevail. The grandmaster told me so.

  That night I tossed and turned, listening for my uncle to come in. He never did. Eventually, I drifted to sleep.

  When I woke the next morning, I checked the news for another murder. No reports. I felt relieved, but not entirely convinced. Halfway to the kitchen, I smelled my uncle’s coffee. I hesitated, then forced myself to enter the room.

  “Morning.” I avoided his eyes. “Have a nice night?”

  “Great. An old friend was in town.” Uncle Bob stared at me. “You mad because I didn’t call in?”

  I shrugged. “It’s your house.”

  “No, no. It’s what I would expect of you. I should do the same. It won’t happen again.”

  Silence fell between us. I gazed outside. The sky was bright blue, and the breeze was cold and dry.

  “Whatever happened to the jawbone that kept the newspapers from blowing around?” I asked.

  He chuckled and slurped his coffee. “That old thing? I’m surprised you ask.”

  “I thought it was cool. I went to show Brittany, but it was gone.”

  He sobered. “I heard her come over yesterday. You okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, not sure what he meant. He couldn’t know my little secret.

  “I hope you don’t have anything planned for today. I could sure use your help with a project.”

  “No problem. What are we doing?”

  He drank again and smacked his lips. “Going to paint the front porch.”

  “But you rent.”

  “Part of how I keep the rent down is by doing repairs myself. I’ve been planning to paint for a while, waiting for cooler weather.” He rinsed his cup and set it in the sink. “I’ll start scraping. You finish breakfast and come on out.”

  I watched him leave. I was uncomfortable spending time with him, but it had to be done. Maybe he’d let something slip during conversation. Besides, I had to act normal. If he suspected I knew something, I might be his next victim.

  I wolfed down a bowl of cereal and half a loaf of toast, changed out of my favorite T-shirt, and joined him on the porch. The paint he bought was pale blue. I slapped it on the railing.

  There wasn’t as much conversation as I hoped. Painting is hard work, and despite the coolness of the day, I was sweating. My thoughts drifted to Brittany. Her quick acceptance of my wolfish nature made her even more perfect. I pictured her with lips the color of the paint I slathered on the stairs. I wished she were with me.

  Tires crackled and popped over the driveway. I so expected it to be her that at first I didn’t recognize Sheriff Brad in his green and white car.

  Uncle Bob climbed off his ladder. He’d been painting the overhang. “Hello, Brad. Can I help you with something?”

  The sheriff slammed the car door. “I suppose you heard we found two more bodies.”

  “No, I hadn’t. Were they in the same area?”

  “One was a runaway from Jacksonville. Some kids found her in the woods. There were beer bottles around. It appears she knew the perp before he turned on her. Maybe met him somewhere local where teens gather. The older woman was from the Sunspot. Married. Here on vacation with her husband. She was jogging just before dawn.”

  “That makes four.”

  “Yep. It’s a shame. This used to be a sleepy little town.”

  Uncle Bob’s shoulders stiffened. “Maybe you should be out looking for the killer.”

  “I’m making the rounds, asking people if they’d seen anything out of the ordinary, asking where they were the past few nights.”

  “You plan to talk to every single person in town?”

  “Eventually. I’m starting with those with a history of having a quick temper.” He looked at me. “What about you, boy? You have anything to report?”

  Was he giving me an opening? Did he suspect my uncle, too? I glanced at Uncle Bob. “Not me.”

  “You go to Jana’s party?”

  “No sir. I don’t really know Jana that well.”

  “Well, you missed quite a wingding. I expect you’ll hear all about it tomorrow at school.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He gave a curt nod. As he walked back to his car, he said, “Don’t be surprised if you see me again. I plan to be everywhere at once.”

  Uncle Bob stood next to me, watching the sheriff drive away. Anger radiated off him.

  “I get the impression you two don’t like each other much,” I said.

  “We have a history.” Uncle Bob scowled. I thought he would leave it with that cryptic remark, but he surprised me by continuing. “Shortly after I moved here, there was a rash of gas station robberies. Brad suspected me because I was the new guy on the block. He made my life miserable.”

  “Did they catch the robber?”

  “It turned out to be some high school kid who’d lived here all his life. I don’t think Brad ever forgave me for being an honest man.” He slapped my shoulder. “How about I go out and get us a bucket of chicken? You hungry?”

  “Yeah. Sounds good.”

  “Keep working. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

  Thirty minutes later, we were sitting in lawn chairs and throwing chicken bones into the woods. If I didn’t know better, I’d say my uncle was a great guy. You never can tell.

  * * * *

  Sheriff Brad was right about everyone rehashing Jana’s party in class the next day. The school split into two camps—those who went and those who wanted to know all about it. Even Maxwell and Lonnie were in the limelight. I heard them say there were two bands—the Pink Spiders and some local group. They also said there were white horses wearing bridles fitted with unicorn horns. I bet the girls loved that.

  At lunch, Brittany sat with me a
s if nothing had happened between us. We talked about teachers and homework. I was in a great mood.

  Then I saw Jana rushing to our table. She held out her BlackBerry. “Did you see the new fairy pictures?”

  The lunchroom crashed in on me. I realized the pictures of me in the trees weren’t going away. Worse, now Brittany knew about them. I remembered the shot of her tear-streaked face as she and her brother lowered me to the ground.

  “Oh, please.” Brittany slapped the table. She didn’t even look at the phone. “Those photographs are fakes. Give me a break.”

  Jana sneered. “Sorry you missed my party, Brittany. You should have told me you had nothing to wear. I could have lent you something.” She spun about and stormed off, ponytail swaying.

  Brittany put her hand over mine. “I know you’re angry, and I know what he did sucks. Eff is a total jerk. I get it. But I want you to promise you won’t start a fight.”

  I pulled back. “He already started it.”

  “All we can do is keep saying he’s lying. If you respond, it will look like there’s something to it. People will ask questions. Like why you heal so fast. You can’t retaliate.”

  “Unless I do it in my wolf form.”

  She leaned close. “If you so much as jump out of the bushes and scare him and they trace it back to you, they’ll dump all those other murders on your head. The sheriff is desperate. You’ll be all the evidence he needs. I’ll never see you again.”

  I looked into her eyes. She was right. We couldn’t risk it. I had to lay low. “And let Eff get away with being a jerk.”

  “Don’t worry.” She brightened. “He’ll get his. Bullies always do. Are you busy after school? I thought we could stop by the bookstore and do some research.”

  “Anything we need is on the Internet.”

  “But you have to ask the right questions. I already Googled how to stop being a werewolf and didn’t get any hits. We need old books where the information is compiled for us.”

  “Good thinking.” I would have agreed to anything if it meant spending time with her.

  * * * *

  Ye Olde Bookstore was in strip shopping sandwiched between a women’s clothing store called Eve’s and a weight loss clinic. The books propped up in its display window looked ancient and expensive. A bell dinged as we stepped inside.