Free Sisters Red by Jackson Pearce

down and the blurred sounds of birds chirping filling the car.
    Finally, the gravel road stops and we emerge onto the paved drive, leading to where Silas helped me hunt just a few nights before. The seedy, dangerous bits of Ellison seem to vanish during the day--though apparently the wolves we're after aren't as deterred by daylight as the local thugs are, so things aren't as shiny as they might look. Cars are parked along the street, with housewives ushering children into stores, fathers and sons dipping into a coffee shop, young couples walking with their fingers intertwined. Everything is bright and cheery. And if we're successful, by this afternoon there will be one less Fenris in the world to change that.
    The Apple Time Festival is held in Ellison's only park, a wide parcel of land that's little more than a forest with nature trails and a giant picnic area. All the surrounding roads are blocked off, and parking is hell; we finally find a spot in a row of cars just as heavily decorated as Silas's. Rosie and I put our cloaks on, though I'm not sure how well we'll stand out in the sea of red and green. Silas swings a tattered black backpack onto his shoulders. The ax head is hidden inside so that only the handle sticks out a hole in the zipper.
    "Any thoughts on where to start?" I ask Silas as we join a pack of people being led across the street by a cop. A little girl with apples painted on her cheeks nearly runs over my feet with her tricycle. I turn my face away when she looks
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    back at me, all innocent blue eyes and red cheeks. No sense in scaring the poor thing.
    Silas scans the thick crowd several times before answering. "Go around the back, cut through the trees, maybe?"
    I peer in the direction he's pointing. "No good. They built a new road out that way. I think the wolves avoid it."
    Silas gives me a pointed look. "Why do you ask me if you don't want my opinion anyway?" he questions, smiling despite himself.
    I snicker and shake my head in response.
    Silas rolls his eyes. "How about we go through the festival once before picking a spot?"
    "Why?" I ask.
    "Because I enjoy apples," he replies. Rosie giggles. "Because then we can know if there's a spot that would be particularly easy to grab a girl from," he answers again, voice serious this time.
    The picnic area is full of booths of people selling wooden apples, apple jelly, apple butter. A few grungy-looking carnival types dole out candy apples or invite people to knock down a pyramid of green apples with a wooden ball for the low, low price of five dollars a throw. I study them carefully... no, they're harmless.
    A crowd of laughing women wearing glittery apple-themed T-shirts brushes past me, glancing away when they see my scars. I think a few recognize me--they don't remember my name, maybe, but they remember "that incident with
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    the March girl." The news they got was that a wild dog attacked us. Which still makes me laugh.
    Silas buys caramel-and-peanut-covered apples for all three of us just as the parade begins. It mostly consists of local dance studios tap-dancing through the grass and debutantes waving from convertibles, but people cheer wildly. Silas takes Rosie's hand to lead her to the front and she blushes. I linger in the back, where I can go unnoticed a little easier--though I'm not sure if I'm avoiding the wolves or sideways glances. Most of the debutantes are girls I went to school with. Would I be up there with them, had things turned out differently? I look at my feet and try to imagine them in high heels, try to imagine myself in a ball gown on a float with friends who know nothing of wolves and have gorgeous, unmarred faces. Things can change so swiftly, so easily.
    It's impossible--no matter what, the Fenris lurk on the edge of my thoughts. Besides, I don't need an entourage of friends when I have Rosie and Silas. They'd just get in the way of the hunt. I sigh and scan the area around me and finally see it--the perfect spot for a Fenris