Home > Linger (The Wolves of Mercy Falls #2)(68)

Linger (The Wolves of Mercy Falls #2)(68)
Author: Maggie Stiefvater

“He won’t be back today?” Culpeper asked.

“No, sir,” Sam said, managing to sound both polite and insolent. Perhaps unintentionally.

“That’s too bad. Because I had something for him that I really wanted to give to him in person. But you know, I think you can probably handle it for him.” He gestured with his chin toward the back of the SUV.

Sam’s face was as gray as the sky above, as he and I followed; Grace lagged behind.

“Do you think this looks like something that might interest Mr. Beck?” Culpeper asked. He lifted the tailgate.

This moment. There are moments that change you forever, and this was one of mine.

In the back of the SUV, among plastic grocery bags and a fuel can, was a dead wolf. It lay on its side, shoved a bit to make it fit, its legs crossed over each other. Blood matted the fur at its neck and again at its stomach. Its jaw was slightly slack, the tongue lying limply across the canines.

Victor.

Sam put the back of his fist to his mouth, very softly, and then lowered it. I stared at the pale gray face with the dark markings, and at Victor’s brown eyes staring blankly at the carpeted wall of the SUV.

Crossing my arms, I balled my hands to keep them from shaking. My heart was thumping in a frenzied, desperate way. I needed to turn away, but I couldn’t.

“What is this?” Sam asked coldly.

Culpeper grabbed one of the wolf’s back legs and, with a single jerk, tugged the body over the bumper. It made a sickening thump when it hit the driveway. Grace cried out, her voice full of the horror that was just starting to rise up inside me.

I had to turn around. My gut felt like it was unwinding inside me.

“You tell your father this,” Culpeper snarled. “You tell him to stop feeding these things. I see another one on my property, I will shoot it. I will shoot every single wolf I can get in my sights. This is Mercy Falls, not National Geographic.” He looked at Grace, who appeared as sick as I felt. To her, he said, “I would’ve thought you’d know to keep better company, considering who your father is.”

“Better company than your daughter?” Grace managed to shoot back.

Culpeper gave her a thin smile.

Sam had gone very, very quiet, but Grace’s voice seemed to bring him back to life. “Mr. Culpeper, I’m sure you’re aware of my adopted father’s profession.”

“Very. One of the very few things we have in common.”

Sam’s voice was disturbingly even. “I’m pretty sure there are legal implications to tossing a dead wild animal on private property. It’s out of hunting season for pretty much every animal, and most certainly for wolves. And I’m guessing if anyone knew about those implications, it would be him.”

Tom shook his head and headed back around toward the driver-side door. “Right. Wish him luck on that. You have to spend better than half the year in Mercy Falls if you want the judge on your side.”

I wanted to hit him so badly it hurt. I wanted to pound the waxy smug smile from his mouth.

I didn’t think I could stop myself.

I felt a touch on my arm and looked down to see Grace’s fingers circling my wrist above my fisted hand. She looked up at me, biting her lip. From the look in her eyes and the set of her shoulders, I could see that she wanted to pound the living crap out of him, too, and that was what stopped me.

“Better move that thing if you don’t want me to back over it,” Culpeper called as he slapped the driver’s door shut, and the three of us rushed forward to pull Victor’s body off the driveway, right before the SUV’s engine roared and he backed out.

It had been forever since I’d felt so damn young, so absolutely powerless against an adult.

As soon as the blue SUV was out of sight, Grace said, “He’s gone. The bastard.”

I dropped to the ground next to the wolf and lifted the muzzle. Victor’s eyes looked back at me, dull and lifeless, losing meaning every second this side of death.

And I said what I should’ve said a long time ago—“I’m sorry, Victor. I’m so sorry”—to the last person I would ever destroy.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

• SAM •

I felt like I had dug too many graves this year already.

Together, Cole and I got the shovel from the garage and took turns digging through the partially frozen ground. I didn’t know what to say to him. My mouth felt stuffed full of words that I should’ve said to Tom Culpeper, and when I tried to find some left over for Cole, I came up short.

I wanted Grace to wait inside, but she insisted on coming along. She watched us from among the trees, arms folded tightly across her chest, eyes red.

I had chosen this site, sloped and sparse, because of its beauty in summer; when it rained, the leaves flipped up to reveal glowing white undersides that rippled in the wind. However, I had never been human here to appreciate its equally beautiful presence this time of year. While we dug, the evening transformed the woods, making ribbons of warm sunlight across the forest floor and painting stripes of blue shadows over our bodies. Everything was splashes of yellow and indigo, an impressionist painting of three teens at an evening funeral.

Cole had transformed yet again from the guy I’d seen last. When I handed off the shovel to him, we exchanged glances. And for the first time since I’d met him, his expression wasn’t empty. When our eyes met, I saw pain and guilt…and Cole.

Finally, Cole.

Victor’s body lay a few feet away from us, partially wrapped in a sheet. In my head, I came up with lyrics for him as I dug.

Sailing to an island unknown

Failing to find your way home

you walk under a sea

leagues beneath us

Grace caught my eye, as if she knew what I was doing. The lyrics could also be about her, so I shoved them out of my mind. Digging and waiting to dig. That was what I thought about as the sun crept down.

When the grave was deep enough, we both hesitated. From here, I could see Victor’s belly and the blast that had killed him. In the end, he died as an animal.

It could have so easily been Beck’s or Paul’s body that Culpeper pulled out of the back of his truck. Last year, it could have been me. It was almost me.

• GRACE •

Cole couldn’t do it.

When the grave was finally dug and he was finally standing by Sam and looking down at the body next to the pit, I saw that Cole couldn’t do it. I recognized the veneer of control as he stood, his breaths ragged enough to make his body sway with each exhalation.

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