Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [85]
“Nice try.”
Beth shrugged.
Worth a shot.
The thought of their house and a hot shower pulled her to her feet. The thought of wandering around the forest for an hour or so weighted her limbs. Every time they came out here Chase brought her through a different section of forest. And every night he made her find her own way home. She’d yet to manage it in under an hour or without Chase’s snarky hints.
“You’ve denied your senses for a long time. Until you learn to focus them, you’re stuck.”
“Focus on what exactly?”
“Anything. Everything,” he answered. Leaves rustled to her left. He was moving.
“That’s specific.” Beth followed the tree line, seeking any movement that would give away his location.
“What are we having for dinner tonight?” Chase asked from behind her.
Damn.
“What?”
“What’s on the menu?” He dropped to the forest floor, weight on his palms and legs extended in front of him.
“Beats me.” She didn’t ask why he cared, though she knew he wanted to make a point. He rarely said anything otherwise.
“Hmm.”
Beth watched the black soles of his sneakers move up and down as he tapped out a rhythm.
“How far do you think we are from the house?”
“I don’t know.” How far had they walked after lunch? Fifteen, twenty minutes? “Less than a mile.”
His angled his head back, eyes closed to his surroundings. His foot stopped bouncing. He held completely still and drew a deep breath. “Mmm.” He collapsed back to the ground, feet resuming their rhythmic tapping. “Pot roast.”
“You can’t be serious.” Beth scowled in his direction. Why she’d thought he’d be better at this than Braden she had no idea. “You expect me to believe you can smell what your mother is making for dinner?”
“Sure.” He stood up, forest debris raining down his jeans. He grinned at her. “Well, I can’t. But the wolf can.”
Beth knocked her head against the tree behind her. “Whatever.”
“Don’t believe me?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to the side.
“It’s a bit far-fetched.”
“Right up there with werewolves?” He punctuated his sarcasm with a toothy grin.
Doesn’t he ever get tired of teasing me?
“Fine. You can smell what your mother’s cooking. You can shift at will.” Beth pushed away from the tree and headed toward their house. “And I can’t. Fantastic.”
“Want to know why?” He fell into place beside her, long strides shortening to match her pace.
“I’ve been asking all week,” she answered, pushing a branch out of her way.
“You’re scared,” he continued before she could interrupt. “You don’t see the wolf. You see the nightmare your mind created for you.”
Beth spun on him, anger fueling her. “I didn’t make it up! I didn’t imagine being chased through the woods. I didn’t imagine Rachel’s shredded throat. I was there! I watched it happen.” Her hands flexed involuntarily at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms. “I felt her blood, her flesh slip through my fingers. I didn’t have to create a nightmare. I held it in my arms!”
“And every time you think of the wolf, you see it again.” He advanced on her, forcing her to back pedal. “Don’t you?”
“Yes!”
The weight of his stare pinned her to the spot. “That’s why you can’t change. It’s not half as hard as you think it is. You’ve done it enough that it should come naturally. A reflex. Muscle memory. But every time you think about it, every time you reach for it, all you see is the monster.” Chase paced closer to her, shoulders hunched, eyes intent. “The wolf didn’t kill Rachel.”
“I watched her die. I know what killed her.”
“Who. Not what. Ivan killed your friend. The wolf was only the weapon he chose to accomplish it.” Chase backed off even as his words reached in to suffocate her. “The wolf isn’t the monster, Beth. You can’t move forward until you accept that.” Chase fell back into place next to her.
“I don’t know how.” Beth brushed passed him, willing the answers to come to her. Every time she closed her eyes, every time she thought about the wolf, she saw Ivan leap, heard Rachel scream. Beth wiped her palms against her jeans, certain if she looked down