Blood Trail

maintain itself against the rest of the scene. Crossing the meadow, he decided to leave Henry for the rest of the afternoon and just enjoy himself.

    "Is it deep?" he asked, arriving at the pond.

    " 'Bout as deep as you near the middle," Daniel told him after a moment's study.

    Over six feet was pretty deep for such a little guy. "Can you swim."

    Daniel licked a drip of water off his nose. "Course I can," he declared indignantly. "I can dog paddle."

    "Think we'll get this done by supper time?" Rose asked, scrubbing a dribble of sweat off her forehead.

    "I didn't think Uncle Stuart gave us an option," Peter panted, leaning on the mallet. "He's sure been growly lately."

    "In case you'd forgotten, the family's under attack. He has a good reason."

    "Sure, but that doesn't mean he has to growl at me."

    Rose only shrugged and started stomping the earth tightly around the base of the metal fence post. She hated the amount of clothing she had to wear for this - shoes, jeans, shirt - but fences couldn't be fixed in a sundress, especially not when every section seemed determined to support at least one raspberry bush.

    "I mean," Peter clipped an eight-inch length of wire off the bale and began reattaching the lower part of the fence to the post, "everything you do, he snaps at you."

    Everything you do, you mean. Rose sighed and kept her mouth shut. She'd been feeling so strange herself lately, she certainly wasn't going to criticize her twin.

    He squinted up at the sun, burning yellow-white in the late afternoon sky, and fought the urge to pant. "What a day to be working outside. I don't believe how hot it is."

    "At least you can work without a shirt on."

    "So could you."

    "Not right next to the road."

    "Why not?" He grinned. "There's never any traffic along here and besides, they're so little no one'll be able to see them anyway."

    "Peter!"

    "Peter!" he echoed, as she took a swing at him. "Okay, if you don't like that idea, why don't you trot back to the house and get us some water."

    Rose snorted. "Right. While you lean on the fence and watch the world go by."

    "No." He bent and picked up the brush shears. "While I clear the crap from around the next post."

    She looked from the post to her brother, then turned and started walking back to the house.
    "You better have that done ..." she warned, over her shoulder.

    "Or what?"

    "Or ... Or I'll bite your tail off!" She laughed as Peter cowered at their favorite childhood threat, and then she broke into a run, feeling his gaze on her back until she left the field and started down the lane.

    Peter yanked at the waistband of his jeans. They were too tight, too constrictive, too hot. He wanted ... Actually, he didn't know what he wanted anymore.

    "This has been one hell of a summer," he muttered, moving along the fence. He missed his Aunt Sylvia and his Uncle Jason. With the two older wer gone, it seemed like he and Rose had no choice but to become adults in their place.

    He suddenly wanted to howl but worked off some of his frustrations in hacking at the brush instead. Maybe he should get a life outside the pack, like Colin had. He tossed that idea almost the instant he had it. Colin didn't have a twin and Peter couldn't imagine living without Rose beside him. They almost hadn't made it through grade eleven when class schedules kept them apart for most of the day. The guidance counselor had no idea how close she'd come to being bitten when she refused to change things. She'd said it was time they broke free of an unhealthy emotional dependency. Peter beheaded a few daisies, working the shears like two-handed scissors. That's all she knew. Maybe if humans developed a little emotional dependency the world wouldn't be so fucked up.

    The sound of an approaching car brought him over to the fence where he could get a look at the driver. The black and gold jeep slowed as it drew even with him, stopped a few feet down the road, then backed up spraying gravel. It was the same jeep that had been parked at the end of the lane Sunday morning when he'd gone to the mailbox to fetch Shadow. Hackles rising, he put down the shears and jumped the fence. Time to find out why this guy was hanging around.

    Mark Williams couldn't believe his luck. Not only was there a solitary werewolf right up by the road where he could get to it, but it was one of the redheads. One of the young redheads.
    And in his experience, teenage any things could be easily manipulated into impulsive,