Blood

17. Wolves

We'd slipped through the border wall and hurried into the dark forest, escaping to Canada from the creepy assassin-agents who wanted my Valukar hunter genes. The sirens were no longer audible, only the occasional hoot of an owl. It was chilly but hey, we were wearing flannel shirts. We lived on the Canadian border, after all.

We didn't know where we were going, we only knew we couldn't go back home.

Hedges and I had been walking for a couple hours when I smelled the wolves. They were moving parallel to us through the forest and keeping their distance. At least for now.

I guessed they were wary after their first encounter with me back behind Hedges' workshop, when I'd hit the lead wolf on the side of his head with a shovel. Or maybe they wanted revenge for the way my horrible traitorous uncle had killed two of them by slashing their necks. I suspected he'd called them to us somehow, just to trigger me to transform. So killing them seemed like yet another treachery. But that was my uncle to a T. T for treachery.

I didn't mention the wolves to Hedges. My best friend was moving slowly and his breath was ragged. He must've been exhausted after a day more full of action than anything he'd experienced since kindergarten. His was a life of thought. And tinkering. He worked his arms and his brains pretty hard with his wrenches and soldering irons. But he didn't usually have to run away from federal agents with silencers on their guns. I felt sorry I'd gotten him into this.

However, neither of us really had the slightest choice in the matter. My uncle had brought the agents to town to round up all the Valukar and especially to bring me—or at least fresh samples of my organs—back to their secret research facility. Like I was gonna let that happen!

Most of the town's Valukar had already escaped in their motorboats to the far side of the lake and into Canada, where they had new identities and savings accounts and lives ready and waiting. And another Hide, a secret headquarters where they had all the resources we lacked, including somewhere warm to sleep for the night.

They'd abandoned us, but I couldn't really blame them. Hedge wasn't a vampire, and I was some sort of super-vampire with genes so desirable that Uncle Wolfgang had sold me out and brought dozens of murderous assassin-agents down on the peaceful Valukar families of our little town.

It was long past midnight and we'd been walking fast for hours, trying to get as far into Canada as we could before sunrise.

"I can't go on," Hedges said. "Go without me."

"Sure thing."

We walked a little further at a slower pace.

I could hear the pack now, closing in gradually. They must've sensed our exhaustion.

And then I smelled it. A tar-paper roof. It stood out distinctly from the forest smells around us. "I think there's a logging cabin up ahead," I told Hedges. And then I grabbed his arm and began to pull him forward.

The wolves were much closer now. (My sense of smell was exceptional since I'd 'transitioned' as Uncle Asshole called it and was able to shift my eyes and slide my teeth out and tap into my Valukar skills at will.)