Sisters Red by Jackson Pearce Page B

my dear."
    He changes in one fluid motion, his human disguise melting away. I leap back and yank both knives from my belt just as the older wolf howls and steps forward. Both lower their heads and growl, baring their teeth and digging at the dirt with thick claws.
    Everything is still--the wolves, me, the wind. None of us wants to make the first move.
    Then, in the distance, faintly, I hear a familiar rumble. The bus, making another round. Both Fenris and I glance
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    down the road in frustration. No one wants a fight in plain sight of the bus; the wolves'll have to make the choice to take a large handful of humans or run. And Fenris hate to run, but they aren't stupid.
    The decision is made--the older Fenris propels himself at me, bounding off his back legs. I spin to the left, avoiding him, hands held out so that the tips of my blades skim his body. The younger Fenris growls and the older one grunts in response, a conversation I don't understand. I take advantage of his distraction and fling a well-aimed knife at him. He shies away at the last instant, but it still grazes the side of his face, shearing enough skin off to reveal raw pink muscles underneath. The bus rumbles closer--we all know time is up. I can't let them get away. Scarlett would never forgive me.
    While the older Fenris shakes his head as if he's trying to throw the pain off his wound, the younger one runs forward. He darts side to side, and when I try to follow, I become unbalanced. He lunges for my left just as I lean to the right, and I hit the ground so hard that I feel bits of gravel sinking into my cheeks and the hilt of the knife I threw underneath my hip. I roll onto my chest and see the younger wolf whipping around, jaws open. I yank the knife from underneath my hip and thrust it upward. He avoids it narrowly. I sit up as the older wolf rejoins the fray, just as the first hints of the bus's dust cloud creep our way.
    Stand up, stand up. I spring to my feet and spin around, kicking the older wolf solidly in the side of the head, then turn just in time to drive my heel into the chest of the younger 62 wolf as he leaps for my neck. The gray-blue top of the bus breaks through the horizon. Come on, it's now or never, Scarlett's warnings repeat in my head. If they run, they'll be starving, they'll have to eat, someone will die. I wheel toward the old Fenris and throw a knife at him with all the strength I possess. It sinks into his chest with a sickening squelch, and the wolf collapses to the side.
    The younger wolf howls angrily, looking between me, the dying Fenris, and the bus. The bus is only moments away, and the driver might even see us by now. The young Fenris snaps his jaws at me and then leaps into the grasses. I hear his heavy claws padding through the briars and weeds. I could go after him, I could find him--no. I can't outrun him. He'll be long gone or he'll know enough to jump me. Think, Rosie, think.
    The bus starts to slow, and I realize there's a blue hatchback driving along in its shadow--Silas's car. I run to the fallen Fenris and yank my knife out of its side. I can't leave till I know I've killed it. Come on, die already. Its red-brown eyes are lined in hatred as it glares at me. The bus driver sees me, and her eyes widen at the sight of a girl looming over a dead beast, knife above her head. My eyes dart to Silas's car. We see each other at the same instant.
    And the Fenris vanishes. He bursts into a cloud of black shadow that seems to scream in the sunlight before sliding under the pebbles in protest. I dash into the thick grasses in the opposite direction of the Fenris. I could have killed him sooner, should have killed them in the woods. What if I just
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    ruined our cover? What if the bus driver recognized me and calls child services? I'll have destroyed it all.
    Scarlett is going to kill me.
    The grasses whip past me and my eyes begin to water, in both frustration and pain from the leaves slapping against my cheeks. Silas's horn