Chapter 2

"What is wrong with you two?" Eleanor’s shrill voice sliced through the damp morning air.

She marched right over the splintered porch boards, cornering us in the wreckage.

"Why won't you just claim it? Do you know what kind of opportunity you just threw away?"

Arthur grabbed my shoulder, his grip bruising my skin.

"You heard him! It’s one of you!"

I wrenched myself free.

Beside me, Maeve was shaking violently. Her eyes darted wildly toward the attic, undoubtedly reliving the memory of a piano wire slicing through her neck.

I didn't waste a single word on my parents.

I grabbed Maeve’s wrist, dragged her through the living room, and shoved her into our bedroom.

I slammed the door shut and threw the deadbolt.

Maeve slid down the doorframe and hit the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

"We shouldn't have stopped on that road. It was just a normal stray dog... How did it turn into that thing?"

"It's not our fault," I said.

My mind snapped back to last Tuesday.

A torrential downpour.

Holden, our precious little brother, threw a tantrum because he wanted wild blackberries.

Eleanor didn't quiet him. She simply shoved Maeve and me out the door into the freezing mud.

By nightfall, shivering and soaked, we found a grey-brown animal choking on its own blood by the highway.

We dragged it into the abandoned ranger cabin in Blackwood Forest.

I wrapped my torn t-shirt around its bleeding ribs, left half a ham sandwich on the floor, and ran.

I stared at Maeve huddled on the carpet.

A sharp chill ran down my spine. The pieces didn't fit.

I dropped to my knees. "Maeve, look at me."

She blinked, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"It was pitch dark in those woods, but we aren't blind," I kept my voice low. "That stray weighed fifty pounds at most. Silas is seven feet tall with shoulders like a boulder."

Maeve stopped shaking. "You mean... we didn't save the monster. We just saved a dog."

"But Silas swore the scent was in this house." I paused. "Beasts like him don't guess."

Maeve rubbed her face. "Someone hid a werewolf in here? That's impossible."

"No." The truth finally clicked. "He tracked the scent of the person who saved him."

I looked at her. "The oath demands a female. How many women live under this roof, Maeve?"

Maeve stared at me. "Three. You, me, and..."

The color drained from her face.

"No. Mom didn't leave the house. She locked us out, remember?"

"Did she?" I countered. "We were gone for hours. We have no idea what she did."

A memory from this morning hit me. Eleanor shoving Maeve forward.

"She knew he was coming," I said. "That’s why she’s forcing us to take the oath."

"Not Mom..." Maeve whispered, her fingers digging into the rug.

"There's one way to prove it." I stood up. "I need her clothes."

"An unwashed piece of clothing. A shirt, anything. If we hand it to Silas in three days, he’ll realize who the real savior is. The curse breaks from us, and goes back to her."

We didn't waste another second.

Maeve took the kitchen.

While preparing dinner, she crushed three of Eleanor’s heavy sleeping pills into a fine powder and stirred them directly into Arthur’s evening bourbon.

Ten minutes later, he was dead to the world, snoring loudly on the living room recliner.

Next was Holden.

Maeve leaned casually against the doorway of his bedroom. "Hey. BestBuy in town just stocked that restricted shooter game."

Holden instantly kicked his gaming chair over. He stormed into the living room, throwing a heavy glass ashtray against the wall.

"Mom! Take me to town! Right now!"

Eleanor rubbed her temples, looking exhausted and annoyed.

Maeve smoothly stepped forward and dangled the car keys in front of her.

Unable to handle Holden destroying the living room, Eleanor snatched the keys.

"Fine! Get in the truck!"

The front door slammed.

The house was dead silent, save for Arthur’s rattling snores.

I moved fast. I pulled the spare key I’d stolen from the kitchen hook and unlocked Eleanor’s sewing room at the end of the hall.

She always kept it locked, claiming her expensive fabrics were too delicate for us to touch.

I bypassed the cutting table and went straight for the massive wooden wardrobe against the back wall to grab a worn blouse. I shoved her heavy winter coats to the side.

My knuckles brushed against the backboard of the wardrobe. It didn't sit flush.

I pushed the clothes completely away. A thin, perfectly straight metallic seam ran down the center of the wood.

No handle. No hinges. A hidden door.

Why would she have a secret room hidden inside an already locked room?

I backed up and tore through the junk drawer on her cutting desk, tossing aside scissors and tape measures. Beneath a pile of zippers, I found a heavy, black magnetic key fob cleverly disguised on a spare keychain.

I grabbed it and hurried back to the wardrobe. I pressed the flat plastic fob against the wood near the seam.

Beep.

The hidden panel clicked, shifting inward by half an inch.

A cold, damp draft hit my face from the darkness beyond.

Before I could reach out to push the door open, a violent shiver wrecked my body.

A shadow fell over my shoulder.

"Darling, what are you looking for?" Eleanor breathed right against my ear.