Free The Night Has Teeth by Kat Kruger Page B

exist. Not in this world, anyway. From the hallway someone
knocks on the door. We both freeze. Her eyes scan mine and I search
for a place to hide.
    “Mademoiselle Dallaire?” It’s Madame
Lefèvre.
    Madison motions silently for me to move. We both get
to our feet at the same time, bumping our heads together as we do.
It’s sort of a comedy of errors. Only I’m not laughing. A second
later, the door swings open. I try to back away, but the only exits
are either through the door or out the window again. The woman
enters the room, a force to be reckoned with, even if she is
wearing what appears to be a floral muumuu. There’s nowhere for me
to go. She grabs me by the hairs at the back of my neck and drags
me out of the room. By now, we’re drawing an audience as lights
turn on and girls emerge from their dorm rooms.
    “Back to sleep, ladies!” she orders, yanking at me
to follow her down the steps.
    “I swear this isn’t what it looks
like!”
    “It matters not,” she explains in French. “There
are rules, Monsieur Lewis. And as a young lady of this household,
Mademoiselle Dallaire is responsible for ensuring they are
upheld.”
    With one hand she swings open the front door and
with the other she pushes me past the threshold. I’ve been tossed
out of the only safe haven I could think of in my hour of need. No
shoes, no jacket and a wolf somewhere out in the dark. I look
between her and Madison standing in the doorway, helpless, before
the door closes on me. On the front lawn, I collapse onto the wet
grass. I need to figure out what my next steps are.
    I could just man up and face my death. I’d meet with
Amara and just accept whatever horrible end Arden has in store for
me. But remembering how terrified I was when I figured out what he
is, I’d probably just wind up screaming like a girl before I died.
Not a dignified option at all.
    Or I could simply leave the city. I’d go back home
to my normal life surrounded by regular teenagers, not
shape-shifting dog-people. A sudden and overwhelming feeling of
homesickness passes through me at the thought, and I decide this
option is the one I want most. Sometimes there’s no shame in
running away from your problems. Particularly when your problems
have sharp fangs and claws to match. Why couldn’t I have just
settled on a mediocre existence and stayed in New York?
    My fingers hover over the call button of my iPhone
as I think about what I’m going to tell my parents without
revealing too many unnecessary and unbelievable details. I’ll have
to play on their heartstrings and admit to being homesick. Even as
the phone rings, I go over what I’m going to say when they pick up.
Thing is, they don’t. Maybe my dad’s overseas. Heck, maybe my mom
is too. It’s not like they would have thought to tell me or
anything. I leave what I hope is a nonchalant message about wanting
to come home. The last thing I need is for them to fly to Paris to
make sure everything is alright. Especially when everything isn’t.
I get up, turn toward the gate, and stop dead in my tracks.
    At the top of the walkway stands wolf-Arden. A
sinking sensation collapses in my chest. In an instant I spin
around and race to the back of the mansion toward the woods. All I
can feel is the burning in my legs and lungs. Just as I make it
past the neatly trimmed green space of the estate and into the
brush of the woods, he reaches my heels. As it turns out, the
probability of me outpacing a wolf is exactly slim to none. In the fragment of a second I take
to glance back, he leaps up at me. All I can do is prepare myself
for the fall and whatever happens next.
     
     
     
    8. Things
Ain’t Like They Used To Be
     
    I collapse under his weight, one arm beneath me bracing
against the attack and the other reaching out to grab him. My
fingers manage to get a grip on the fur at his throat, and I hold
my arm outstretched to keep him at bay. His front paws are planted
firmly on my shoulders, and the force pushes