Running with Wolves. Cynthia Cooke

      Chapter 1

      Shay Mallory felt the sensation of being watched as she walked down her long driveway, her tennis shoes crunching on the sparse gravel. Late morning fog hovered in the branches of the tall redwoods forming a canopy above her. She breathed deep the briny scent of ocean air and willed herself to relax. Not an easy task.

      A twig snapped behind her. Tensing, she peered over her shoulder at the deep shadows lengthened by the soaring trees, but saw no one. She was being jumpy. There was no one there. Nothing to be afraid of, and yet she was. Fear clung to her back, digging its long sharp claws into her shoulders, a constant reminder of its needling presence.

      She’d spent her whole life jumping at imaginary threats, constantly moving until one town blurred into the next. But her paranoid father had been dead a long time now. For years, there had been just her and Grams in these woods, and no reason to be afraid. No reason to jump.

      A whimpering sounded behind her. Smiling, she stopped and turned.

      “Hey, Buddy.” She squatted next to the large husky that had been shadowing her and rubbed the thick brown fur on his cheeks. He looked more like a wolf than a dog and had been her only companion since Grams died last year. If it weren’t for him, she’d be completely alone. She brushed off the thought and the sense of deep sadness that came with it. Until she figured out what was going on with her, spending less time around people would be better anyway.

      Buddy sat and she patted his head. “You can’t come with me, Buddy. You know that. You scare people.”

      The dog whined and, lying down, dropped its head onto its outstretched paws, looking absolutely adorable. “I know. They’re idiots. Stay here. I’ll be right back. Promise.” She stood and, with a lighter step and a pat to her pocket to make sure she had her iPod, she hurried down the road.

      She knew she should move closer to the city and try to find a job in a design firm. Home-based graphic design businesses could be tough to get off the ground since it seemed as if everyone and their brother could design a website these days. But there weren’t too many places she would be able to live with Buddy. He needed room to run, to stretch his legs, to be free where some gun-happy yahoo wouldn’t mistake him for a wolf and shoot him. She’d find a way to make the money to fix up the old house and stay right where she was.

      In her home.

      As Shay considered her options, she crossed Highway 1, and headed toward picturesque Main Street. Thank goodness, with the onset of school and the cooler weather, most of the summer tourists were gone and she encountered no one on her way. She passed through an alley between two buildings and walked into the hardware store.

      “Good morning, Shay,” Mr. Henderson said from behind the counter. “You know, it’s not sunny out.”

      Shay smiled and took off the dark shades she never went without these days. She couldn’t take the chance. Without them she’d be distracted and sometimes scared by the colors, but Mr. Henderson was okay. She already knew what his colors were, yellow and blue and happy.

      She took a deep breath and looked around her. Luckily no one else was in the store. “I need another tube of Spackle.”

      “More? What are you doing up there?” Astonishment raised his voice, and his grayish-green eyes bulged a little under salt-and-pepper brows.

      “Grams’s place must be on a fault line. Cracks keep forming in the walls, especially on the east side of the house.”

      He crinkled his already heavily lined forehead, creating fissures as deep as the ones in her walls. “You might want to get someone out there