Worlds Apart by Marlene Dotterer Read Free Book Online Page B

Kaarmanesh. Even at the new moon,
werewolves were not allowed into the human world. It made no sense
to see the Keeper. Unless he was Portal Enforcement. But would P.E.
send a werewolf into the Flatlands to do their work?
    Unable to make sense of the
situation, Damien stood, tense and alert. He continued toward the
portal, his steps as silent as padded paws. The scent of the other
werewolf grew stronger, but Damien could tell the man was no longer
in the Flatlands. The scent was fading. The other one had returned
to Kaarmanesh.
    Would he be waiting on the other
side of the portal?
    When Damien reached his cove and
the scent of the other male's mark hit him, he shouted in anger. Who was this, to dare such a thing? He circled the cove,
relieved to see the ward still held. Damien's lips curled. It would
take someone quite strong in magic to break that ward, and no
werepup working for P.E. would ever be capable of it.
    He could have ignored the acrid
scent of the other male, but Damien thought it worth the few
minutes it took to kick mud on the trail of it, then cover it again
with his own mark. This was his cove. Not even Portal Enforcement
could gain entry.
    Satisfied that his wards held,
Damien continued the few hundred feet to the portal, stopping in
the trees once it was in sight. He groaned.
    The portal had been
indicted.
    Its shimmer was reduced to a
slight ripple at each corner. He couldn't cross.
    He couldn't stay here either, for
the Keeper would be around to check things. Damien stared at the
glassy portal, thinking hard. His smile crept back. There were
things he could do while he waited.
     
    ~~
     
    “Hey, c'mon. Don't hog the
cigarette.”
    “You're hoggin' the pictures. How
come you get everything?”
    “Knock it off, morons! You're
getting her wet!”
    The scuffling stopped, and an
effort was made to reestablish the tarp the three boys huddled
under. Water from the laden trees splashed onto their crossed legs,
leaving splotches on essential parts of Miss March’s anatomy before
they got things back under control.
    “Damn, now the cigarette's
out.”
    “You can't do anything right,
dude.”
    “Fuck you.”
    Les Chardes ignored the bickering
of his friends, brushing a respectful hand over the magazine open
on his lap. “Hold the flashlight still, Jason,” he said. “Pete can
always light the cigarette again.”
    The circle of light dashed onto
the dirt as Jason made a final adjustment to the tarp over his
head, then made a precise path to Miss March’s fuzzy patch. Les
sighed. “Perfect.”
    Pete Griffin snickered as he lit
the cigarette, bending over Les's shoulder for a better
view.
    The boys shared a moan, and Pete
passed the cigarette to Les, who took a puff before passing it to
Jason. The page rustled as Les turned it, and another moan arose. A
crunch up the hill made Pete tilt his head. “Did you hear
something?”
    “Nah,” Jason said, bending further
to see the entire series of poses. But a moment later, steady
footsteps made the boys scramble out of the tarp, cigarette and
magazine disappearing as if by magic.
    Les swung the flashlight toward
the sound. “Who's there?”
    “Sorry, boys. Didn't mean to scare
you.” The voice was not one they knew, and Jason couldn't hold back
a fearful squeak. Pete's elbow urged him to be quiet.
    The flashlight revealed a thin
man, taller than Pete, who was the tallest of the three of them at
five-feet-ten. The man wore dark clothing with a day pack on his
back. His fur-lined hood was down, showing stringy blond hair
hanging around his face and mingling with a short blond beard. He
raised an arm to his eyes. “Can you point that thing down,
please?”
    “Sorry.” The light jerked down as
Jason fumbled with it, but Les suddenly grabbed it from him and
flung the light back up into the man's eyes.
    “Who are you, Mister? What are you
doing here?” Les's voice didn't waver, but Jason heard the fear in
it. He suspected the man did, too.
    “Name's Damien