Scent of Darkness by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online

ocean.
    Nothing moved. The stench of hot metal and burning rubber filled her nose. She was still alive—and if she wanted to stay that way, she had to get out. Get out before the car plunged off the cliff. Get out before it burst into flame.
    She put on the emergency brake, then dosed her eyes.
    Taking care not to suddenly shift her weight, she grasped the handle and opened the door. AH her care was wasted; the wind caught it and jerked it open. She held her breath, waiting for the inevitable shift and tumble.
    Nothing.
    Distantly she noted that her hand was now steady as a rock.
    Somewhere on this wild ride, she had transcended terror.
    She slid her legs out, inched her butt along the seat, then gradually stood.
    The car hung there, suspended over the cliff, resting on the front tires and the frame.
    She stepped away from it. Backed away, waiting for it to take the plunge.
    The Miata remained still.
    She stood alone on a one-lane private road. Her new car was smashed and unsalvageable, a testament to her bad driving—and a sign to Jasha that she was helpless and on foot. She was barefoot, rain lashed her, and—she faced back the way she came—nothing made sense, especially not the wolf who was Jasha.
    She had to hide.
    On one side of the road, the ocean ripped at the base of the cliff. On the other, the primeval forest loomed, dark and thick, branches lashing in the wind. She didn't want to go in there.
    Then in the distance, a wolf howled.
    He was coming for her.
    Ann sprinted across the road and into the forest.

Chapter 5
     
    The trees closed in around Ann, muting the already-dim light, protecting her from the lash of the wind and rain. Her bare feet sank into the damp loam. The scent of spicy pine drifted on the air currents, and for a second, she felt protected, absorbed by nature.
    Then lightning struck and thunder boomed. The rain and wind struck with renewed force, and she heard one wolf howl, then another, then another. It sounded as if a whole pack was stalking her.
    They probably were. Jasha's buddies.
    The false sense of security was stripped away. She shoved her sopping hair out of her face, and her hands came away smeared with black. Her mascara was in ruins. Her dress was in ruins. Her dreams were in ruins. Her life ...
    As she jogged along, pine needles slipped beneath her soles, and she listened to the groan of the trees as they fought the wind.
    Behind her, a single wolf howled again, and something in the sound, some note of fury and frustration, alerted her—that was Jasha.
    What was he? Not some Wolf Man of legend; the full moon controlled those beasts. He was some other . . . thing.
    Lightning flickered, turning the tall boulders into long faces that grinned and mocked. She ran along, looking for the best place to take cover, knowing that no place could be good enough. She was lost to civilization. She would probably die of exposure ... or at Jasha's hands.
    Paws. Whatever.
    A stream crossed her path, and some long-buried Girl Scout memory surfaced. . . . Jasha couldn't track her if she walked through the water.
    She stepped in. The cold water soothed her tender soles. She tried to hurry, but the large, smooth, mossy stones slipped beneath her feet. She strained, listening for the pad of a wolf's paws, but heard nothing. For a few minutes she imagined she'd saved herself.
    Then she heard it. A splash downstream, and the slowly escalating sound of an animal loping through the water.
    He'd found her. He was here.
    She had nowhere to go.
    She ran anyway, out of the stream and down a path between two great boulders. The way narrowed, and for a horrible moment, she thought she'd come to a dead end. But she squeezed through the crack, and beyond her, the forest opened. She was in a meadow, empty except for one immense hemlock. Its trunk was wide, and the crown touched the clouds.
    She sprinted through the short grass. Rain splattered her face. The storm raged, gathering its strength until with one mighty