BLOODSHOT . . . piper mclean

20.

"WOLVES," KALEIDOSCOPE SAID. "They sound close."

"No shit," Eden snapped, standing up and grabbing herself a silver dagger.

Perfect Jason rose next to her and summoned his sword. Fire Boy and Coach Hedge got to their feet too. Kaleidoscope tried to get up and inevitably failed.

"Stay there," Perfect Jason told her. "We'll protect you."

Then, just outside the firelight at the entrance of the cave, Eden saw a pair of red eyes glowing in dark. She hated it here.

More wolves edged into the firelight — black beasts bigger than Great Danes, with ice and snow caked on their fur. Their fangs gleamed, and their glowing red eyes looked disturbingly intelligent. The wolf in front was almost as tall as a horse, his mouth stained as if he'd just made a fresh kill.

Then Perfect Jason stepped forward and said something in Latin.

Eden didn't think a dead language would have much effect on wild animals, but the alpha wolf curled his lip. The fur stood up along his spine. One of his lieutenants tried to advance, but the alpha wolf snapped at his ear. Then all of the wolves backed into the dark.

"Dude, I gotta study Latin." Fire Boy's hammer shook in his hand. "What'd you say, Jason?"

Hedge cursed. "Whatever it was, it wasn't enough. Look."

The wolves were coming back, but the alpha wolf wasn't with them. They didn't attack. They waited — at least a dozen now, in a rough semicircle just outside the firelight, blocking the cave exit.

The coach hefted his club. "Here's the plan. I'll kill them all, and you guys escape."

"Coach, they'll rip you apart," Kaleidoscope said.

"Nah, I'm good."

Then Eden saw the silhouette of a man coming through the storm, wading through the wolf pack.

"Stick together," Perfect Jason said. "They respect a pack. And Hedge, no crazy stuff. We're not leaving you or anyone else behind."

The wolves parted, and the man stepped into the firelight. His hair was greasy and ragged, the color of fireplace soot, topped with a crown of what looked like finger bones. His robes were tattered fur — wolf, rabbit, raccoon, deer, and several others Eden didn't want to identify. The furs didn't look cured, and from the smell, they weren't very fresh. His frame was lithe and muscular, like a distance runner's. But the most horrible thing was his face. His thin pale skin was pulled tight over his skull. His teeth were sharpened like fangs. His eyes glowed bright red like his wolves' — and they fixed on Perfect Jason with absolute hatred.

"Ecce," he said, "filli Romani."

"Speak English, wolf man!" Hedge bellowed.

The wolf man snarled. "Tell your faun to mind his tongue, son of Rome. Or he'll be my first snack."

The wolf man studied their little group. His nostrils twitched. "So it's true," he mused. "A child of Aphrodite. A son of Hephaestus. A faun. The daughter of Poseidon. And a child of Rome, of Lord Jupiter, no less. All together, without killing each other. How interesting."

"Believe me, I've wanted to," Eden muttered under her breath.

"You were told about us?" Perfect Jason asked. "By whom?"

The man snarled — perhaps a laugh, perhaps a challenge. "Oh, we've been patrolling for you all across the west, demigod, hoping we'd be the first to find you. The giant king will reward me well when he rises. I am Lycaon, king of the wolves. And my pack is hungry."