The Naked Wolf in the Woods

Chapter 1

The first thing Jake Miller noticed was the foot.

Not a shoe. Not a boot. A bare human foot sticking out from behind a fallen oak like somebody had started hiding a body and gotten bored halfway through.

Jake stopped so hard his backpack swung around and smacked him in the ribs.

“Nope.”

The woods, unsurprisingly, did not care.

It was seven eleven on a Monday morning, which was already offensive enough.

Jake had chemistry first period, a quiz he had forgotten about until approximately nine minutes ago, and Coach had threatened extra sprints if anyone was late to afternoon practice again.

Finding a corpse had not been on the schedule.

He stood on the narrow trail with one hand still wrapped around the strap of his backpack.

The foot did not move.

Jake looked toward the road. Through the trees he could just make out the roofs of houses and, farther off, the top of West Ridge High’s football lights. He took this shortcut almost every morning. Fifteen minutes through the woods instead of twenty-five around them.

Usually the most dangerous thing out here was poison ivy.

“Hey,” he called.

Nothing.

“Dude?”

Still nothing.

Jake swallowed and stepped off the trail.

The ground was damp from last night’s rain. Wet leaves stuck to his sneakers. The closer he got, the more of the stranger he could see: one leg, then the other, then a scraped knee and a hand curled into the leaves.

Jake’s brain supplied one useful observation.

That is a person.

Then another.

That person is completely naked.

“Oh, come on.”

The guy was lying facedown beside the oak, one arm tucked beneath his chest. Mud streaked his back. There were scratches across one shoulder and a bruise darkening along his ribs. His hair was almost black and full of leaves.

Jake stared for exactly one second longer than was socially acceptable, even when the person in question might be dead.

Then panic won.

He dropped his backpack and crouched.

“Hey. Can you hear me?”

No answer.

Jake reached toward the stranger’s shoulder, hesitated, then touched him.

Warm.

Thank God.

He pressed two fingers against the side of the guy’s neck the way he had seen people do in movies and immediately realized he had no idea what he was looking for.

Then the stranger inhaled sharply.

Jake nearly fell backward.

“Jesus!”

The guy moved fast.

One second he was unconscious. The next he had rolled onto his back and caught Jake’s wrist hard enough to hurt.

His eyes opened.

Brown, Jake thought at first.

Then the morning light shifted through the trees.

Gold.

Not literally gold. Obviously. People did not have gold eyes.

But they were the strangest brown Jake had ever seen, bright around the pupils and fixed on him with naked terror.

“Easy,” Jake said.

The stranger’s grip tightened.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Where?”

His voice was rough, barely there.

“What?”

“Where am I?”

“West Ridge. Outside town.”

The guy looked past him, scanning the trees.

Jake could actually feel the moment fear became panic.

He tried to sit up.

“Whoa. Don’t—”

The stranger made it halfway before pain folded him over.

Jake caught his shoulder.

This time the guy did not fight him.

“Okay,” Jake said. “You’re hurt. We need to call somebody.”

“No.”

“I mean an ambulance.”

“No.”

“Police?”

The stranger’s head snapped toward him.

“No police.”

That was not suspicious at all.

Jake sat back on his heels.

“Okay. You’re naked in the woods, you look like you got thrown out of a moving truck, and you don’t want an ambulance or cops. You understand why I have questions, right?”

The guy looked down at himself.

For the first time, he seemed to realize he was naked.

His expression changed from terrified to mortified so quickly Jake almost laughed.

Almost.

“Here.”

Jake pulled off his hoodie.

It was his favorite one, dark gray with WEST RIDGE FOOTBALL across the front, and his mother had paid way too much for it at the booster table.

He handed it over.

The stranger stared at it.

“It’s a hoodie,” Jake said. “Not a marriage proposal.”

That earned him the smallest reaction. Not quite a smile. More like the guy had briefly remembered smiling existed.

He took it.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He pulled the hoodie over his head. It covered enough to make the situation slightly less insane.

Slightly.

Jake grabbed his phone.

“No.”

“I’m checking the time.”

The stranger watched him anyway.

“Seven twenty-three,” Jake said. “Which means I’m definitely failing chemistry now, so congratulations. You’ve already ruined my academic future.”

This time there was a sound.

A tiny laugh.

Jake looked at him.

The guy immediately stopped.

“You can laugh. I’m not going to charge you.”

“You talk a lot.”

“You woke up naked in my woods.”

“Your woods?”

“No. But I walk through them, so I’m claiming temporary ownership.”

The stranger lowered his gaze.

Jake noticed the scratches again.

Some looked ordinary. Branches, maybe.

Others did not.

Three long marks crossed the guy’s side.

Parallel.

Deep enough that Jake’s stomach tightened.

“What happened to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I said I don’t know.”

Jake studied him.

“Okay. What’s your name?”

A pause.

Too long.

“Daniel.”

Jake raised an eyebrow.

The stranger frowned. “What?”

“You had to think about it.”

“I hit my head.”

“You remembered West Ridge was bad news pretty fast.”

“I never said West Ridge was bad.”

“You looked like I told you we were in hell.”

Another glance toward the trees.

That did it.

Jake stopped joking.

“Someone’s looking for you.”

Daniel said nothing.

“Someone hurt you?”

Still nothing.

Jake lowered his voice. “Are they still out here?”

Daniel looked at him.

“Yes.”

A branch cracked somewhere deeper in the woods.

Daniel was on his feet before Jake even turned his head.

Not stood up.

Was on his feet.

Jake blinked.

A second ago the guy could barely sit.

Now he was upright, body rigid, staring between the trees.

“Did you hear that?”

Daniel grabbed Jake’s backpack and shoved it at him.

“Go.”

“What?”

“Go home.”

“I have school.”

“Then go to school.”

“You’re wearing my hoodie and nothing else.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, fantastic plan.”

Another sound came through the trees.

Farther away this time.

Jake heard it clearly because he was listening for it.

Daniel had reacted before the branch had even finished breaking.

Jake noticed that.

He also noticed Daniel’s nose flare slightly as if he were smelling the air.

Then Daniel whispered, “Damn it.”

“What?”

“They’re close.”

Jake’s skin prickled.

“Who?”

Daniel grabbed his arm.

“Run.”

Jake ran.

He did not know why.

Maybe because a naked stranger with weird eyes had told him to. Maybe because some ancient part of his brain had heard something in Daniel’s voice that the rest of him had not.

They tore through the trees.

Daniel was barefoot.

That should have slowed him down.

It did not.

Jake played football. He ran five days a week. He was fast enough that Coach occasionally remembered he existed.

Daniel moved through the woods like he had been born there.

Jake struggled to keep up.

“Where are we going?”

“Road.”

“Great! Love roads!”

“Stop talking.”

“I talk when I’m scared.”

Daniel glanced back.

“You’re scared?”

“YES.”

For some reason, Daniel smiled.

Actually smiled.

It transformed his face.

Jake had just enough time to think, Oh, that’s inconvenient.

Then something moved between the trees behind them.

Not an animal.

A man.

Dark jacket. Boots. Maybe fifty yards back.

Jake saw him for less than a second.

The man stopped.

Daniel stopped too.

Jake almost crashed into him.

“Keep moving,” Daniel said.

The man in the distance lifted his head.

Jake could not see his face clearly.

But he could see what was in his hand.

A long silver-colored rod.

Daniel made a sound low in his throat.

A growl.

Jake stared at him.

Daniel’s eyes flashed toward him.

“Run, Jake.”

Jake’s stomach dropped.

He had never told Daniel his name.

They reached the edge of the woods behind the school athletic fields.

Students were already streaming toward the building. Cars crawled through the parking lot. Somebody blasted music with enough bass to vibrate the chain-link fence.

Normal.

Beautiful, stupid, completely normal Monday morning.

Jake bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to breathe.

Daniel did not even look winded.

“You know my name.”

Daniel stared back toward the woods.

“Your hoodie.”

Jake looked down.

WEST RIDGE FOOTBALL.

Below it, in smaller lettering, the team had gotten names printed for seniors.

MILLER.

“Oh.”

Daniel finally looked at him.

Jake straightened.

“Still creepy.”

“You're alive.”

“High standard for friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Right. I usually require pants before that becomes official.”

Daniel rolled his eyes.

There it was again—that tiny crack in whatever frightened shell he had built around himself.

Jake pointed toward the school.

“Come with me.”

“No.”

“There are hundreds of people in there.”

“Exactly.”

Jake stared at him.

Daniel’s expression hardened.

“If they know I’m here, being around me is dangerous.”

“You think leaving you barefoot behind the football field is somehow the responsible option?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

The warning bell rang from inside the school.

Jake sighed.

“Look, Daniel-who-might-not-actually-be-Daniel. My mom is at work until five. I can get you clothes. Food. You can shower. Then we figure out what to do.”

Daniel looked at him for a long moment.

“You don't know me.”

“Nope.”

“I could be dangerous.”

Jake glanced toward the woods.

“You’re scared of a middle-aged guy carrying a fancy curtain rod.”

Daniel almost smiled again.

“That isn't what it is.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then I’m going with curtain rod until you do.”

Daniel stepped closer.

Jake expected another argument.

Instead Daniel suddenly went still.

His eyes narrowed.

“What?”

Daniel leaned in.

Jake leaned backward.

“Dude.”

Daniel inhaled.

Jake stared at him.

“Did you just smell me?”

Daniel’s face had gone completely serious.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You definitely just sniffed me.”

“I said nothing.”

“You can't sniff a guy and then say nothing.”

Daniel backed away.

For the first time since Jake had found him, the fear on his face was not directed toward the woods.

It was directed at Jake.

Jake's joking died.

“What?”

Daniel looked at his eyes. Then his throat. Then, strangely, his hands.

“That’s impossible.”

“What is?”

Daniel whispered something Jake could not make out.

Then he looked toward the woods again.

The man was gone.

That somehow felt worse.

“Daniel.”

“My name isn't Daniel.”

“Yeah. I figured.”

Another bell rang.

Jake was officially late.

He no longer cared.

“What’s your name?”

The boy hesitated.

This time Jake understood why.

Giving someone your real name meant trusting them with something.

Finally, he said, “Noah.”

Jake nodded.

“Okay. Noah.”

Noah looked at him strangely when he said it.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Again with nothing.”

Noah pulled Jake’s hoodie tighter around himself.

Then he said, very quietly, “They’ve been hunting my family for a long time.”

Jake waited.

“And if they saw you with me,” Noah continued, “they’ll come for you too.”

Jake glanced at the empty tree line.

“Why?”

Noah’s golden-brown eyes returned to him.

“Because they hunt wolves.”

Jake almost laughed.

Then Noah showed him his teeth.

His canines were lengthening.

Right in front of him.

Jake did not laugh.

Noah looked toward the woods one last time.

“And now,” he said, “you smell like one.”