Chapter 16
The knocking stopped when Sofia put her palm on the stone.
Not gradually.
One second it was there beneath Jake’s shoes—three slow knocks from somewhere under the earth.
The next, silence.
Marcus stared at the ground.
“I would like to officially resign from this friend group.”
“No,” Jake said.
“I wasn’t asking.”
Noah crouched beside the stone without touching it.
The carved names seemed darker now that the sun was down.
Jake’s.
Noah’s.
Their families.
December 21.
Sofia took a piece of white chalk from her coat and drew a circle around the exposed stone.
Marcus watched.
“Does that trap it?”
“No.”
“Protect us?”
“No.”
“What does it do?”
“Helps me remember where not to step.”
Marcus looked at Jake.
“I like her less every hour.”
Sofia smiled.
“Good instincts.”
Elena photographed every carving.
Then she made them cover the stone again.
Jake objected.
“If we found it, shouldn’t we do something?”
“We are.”
“We’re putting leaves on it.”
“We’re not opening something we don’t understand in the dark.”
“That is annoyingly reasonable.”
Noah touched Jake’s shoulder.
“Tomorrow.”
Jake looked at the fallen oak.
The place where he had found Noah.
The place where his biological father might have died.
For the first time, the woods did not feel like a location.
They felt like a witness.
Monday morning brought an announcement over the school intercom.
“Reminder: Winter Lights will take place Friday before the varsity game. Senior athletes and their families should report to the field entrance by six fifteen.”
Jake stopped walking.
Marcus bumped into him.
“Again?”
“Friday.”
“What?”
“Winter Lights.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
Celebration.
Public joy.
The cards.
Noah appeared at the end of the hallway and smelled Jake’s fear before reaching him.
“What happened?”
Jake pointed toward the ceiling speaker.
Noah understood immediately.
“The reading.”
Marcus nodded.
“Three of Cups. The Sun.”
Jake stared at him.
“You know the cards now?”
“I researched.”
“Of course you did.”
“I also bought pepper spray.”
Noah blinked.
“For werewolf hunters?”
Marcus shrugged.
“It’s what I had.”
They told Sofia.
She swore.
They told Elena.
She swore in a different language.
They told Lisa.
She called the school and asked whether Winter Lights could be postponed because of a “credible security concern.”
The school asked whether she had contacted police.
Lisa looked at Jake.
Jake looked at Noah.
Noah looked at Sofia.
Sofia shook her head.
Lisa told the school she would call back.
“This is ridiculous,” she said after hanging up. “There has to be one normal authority we can tell.”
Jake raised his hand.
“Ghostbusters?”
“No.”
“Worth asking.”
Sofia spread a town map across the kitchen table.
“The Circle wants a crowd.”
“Why?” Noah asked.
“Witnesses. Energy. Leverage. Distraction.”
Marcus leaned over the map.
“Or hostages.”
Nobody liked that answer.
Marcus looked offended.
“You wanted useful.”
Friday arrived anyway.
Jake almost did not play.
Then Coach Danner called him into the office.
“You’re starting.”
Jake stared.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why?”
Coach leaned back.
“Because you’ve been playing like somebody set your ass on fire for three weeks.”
“That’s inspiring.”
“Your mother coming?”
Jake hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Good. Winter Lights matters.”
Jake left the office feeling sick.
Winter Lights mattered.
That was exactly the problem.
By six fifteen, the stadium lights were on.
Parents lined the track.
The band warmed up.
Jake stood in uniform beside Lisa.
Robert—his dad, whatever biology said—had driven in that afternoon.
Jake had not been ready for the conversation.
Robert had not forced it.
He simply hugged Jake and said, “I should’ve told you sooner.”
Jake had answered, “Yeah.”
It was not forgiveness.
It was not rejection.
It was a place to start.
Now Robert stood on Jake’s other side while the announcer read names.
Noah waited near the fence with Elena and Sofia.
Jake found him instantly.
Rain.
Pine.
Home, some treacherous part of his brain supplied.
Jake smiled.
Noah smiled back.
Then Noah’s smile vanished.
Jake smelled it a second later.
Smoke.
Worked silver.
Everywhere.
Not one hunter.
Many.
Jake’s head turned.
A man near the concession stand.
A woman beside the visitor bleachers.
Another man in a school volunteer vest.
Normal faces.
Normal clothes.
Ash Circle.
Noah moved.
Sofia caught his arm.
Too late.
The stadium lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the field.
People screamed.
Phones lit up across the stands.
The emergency lights should have activated.
They did not.
Jake heard everything.
Thousands of heartbeats.
Children crying.
Shoes scraping concrete.
Coach shouting for everyone to stay calm.
And underneath it—
A chant.
Soft.
Rhythmic.
Coming from four directions.
Jake’s skin burned.
“Mom.”
Lisa grabbed him.
“I’m here.”
Robert said, “What’s happening?”
Jake smelled silver moving closer.
“Get off the field.”
“What?”
“Now.”
A flare of white light appeared beneath the home bleachers.
Then another beneath the visitors.
Sofia shouted, “JAKE!”
The ground moved.
A crack split the fifty-yard line.
Not wide.
An inch.
Then two.
The turf buckled.
The crowd surged toward the exits.
Jake heard Noah scream his name.
Something inside Jake answered.
His vision turned gold.
His teeth hurt.
His hands changed.
Lisa stared.
Robert whispered, “Jesus Christ.”
Jake looked at him.
“This is going to require another conversation.”
Then the first hunter stepped onto the field carrying a silver rod.
Thomas Voss.
He smiled.
“There you are.”
Jake’s fear became anger.
“You ruined Winter Lights.”
Thomas looked almost amused.
Jake’s nails became claws.
“That was a mistake.”