Scent of Darkness by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online Page A

strike and roar, lightning ripped through the hemlock. She felt the heat, covered her ears, smelled the brimstone . . . sank to her knees. Birds flew free, crying their anguish to the skies, and squirrels scattered as if bewildered.
    As she watched in horror, the vindictive wind grabbed and shoved at the tree. Slowly, so slowly, the hemlock tilted toward the far end of the meadow. Its roots gripped the earth almost at her feet. But that was not enough; they ripped free in a great wide circle that took the green grass and clods of dirt and carried them high into the sky. The blackened branches flailed in protest, yet inevitably, gravity took command, and the tree slammed to earth so hard the ground shook beneath Ann's feet. Now, like the rest of the wild creatures, she rose to flee. Flee nature. Flee Jasha. Flee to survive . . . she scampered across the freshly exposed earth, imagining that somehow she could find a way to hide in the broken branches where Jasha couldn't find her.
    Then the wolf howled, shattering her hopes. Startled, she slipped on a clod of earth, fell to the ground, glanced behind her—and saw, not the wolf coming through the gap in the rocks, but a glint of gold, and a woman looking at her.
    A painting. A miniature. On a ceramic tile?
    Ann blinked. She extended her hand. She curled her fingers around the small piece of polished clay.
    The noise of the storm faded.
    She lifted the image from the dirt, brushed it clean, looked closely.
    This was old. So old. The painting was stilted, stylized, yet the paint had been fired onto the tile and the colors glowed as if they were new. The Virgin Mary held the infant Jesus, while Joseph stood at her right hand, and their halos glittered with gold leaf. Her robes were cherry red, the background was gold, and her eyes . . . her eyes were large and dark, filled with wisdom and compassion.
    Ann's heart lifted. She wasn't going to give up. She wasn't going to die. She clutched the tile so hard the edges cut into her hand, and one ragged corner drew a single drop of blood. She stood, and ran again, heading right for the forest.
    Overhead, the gray clouds swelled with renewed life. The thunder rumbled evilly. As she reached the circle of trees, she glanced back—and saw the wolf bounding across the meadow, his intelligent gaze fixed on her.
    The rush of adrenaline hit her. Her heart leaped in her chest. She had thirty seconds to escape, and before her she saw only the wilderness filled with fallen branches, wide trunks, and swirls of moss. Fired by the intention to climb to safety, she raced toward a tumble of huge boulders, but as she took her first step up, something hit her from the side.
    Jasha.
    The wolf.
    Whatever it was.
    She toppled into a pile of leaves, rolling over and over, and when she came around the last time, she put all her strength behind her arm and hit it in the face with the painting.
    With a yelp, it leaped back. It blocked her arm as she wound up for another blow. The wet tile flew out of her grasp, and she found herself nose to nose with a snarling wolf.
    He straddled her body, his body trembling with fury, his white fangs bared, his eyes yellow while, deep within his pupils, some thing glowed red.
    As she fought for breath, her chest heaved, and the wolf's gaze wandered downward. Slowly, his head dipped, and he ran his tongue from the base of her throat to her chin. Again. And again.
    She closed her eyes. Did wolves wash their prey before they killed it? For any minute she expected his teeth to close over her windpipe and crush it. Then he would rip out her throat, then drag her body away into the forest where it would never be found. ...
    But, my God, the long stroke of his tongue felt almost... erotic, and unwillingly her pounding heart changed its rhythm. He nuzzled under her ear, a gentle touch that prepared her for the nip on her ear. She felt his breath over the artery in her neck, and tensed again, expecting . . . but he kissed the side of