Page 4 of A Wolfe in the Woods

Erik’s eyes gleamed from across the room, stuttering my heart in my chest.

“R-Roads are not found; they are…they are made by those with vision and the will—no, the, thedeterminationto press forward.”

Shit.

Forty minutes later the presentation from hell ended in a heavy silence.

No one said a word, except Eldritch. “Thank you, Blanche.”

I heard my failure in his tone.

Then, with quiet precision, an assistant stepped forward and gestured politely toward the door, beginning the slow, orderly exodus.

As they filed out, one of the men—Rupert Blaquewood III, the head of Vulcan—paused just long enough to address Erik, still half-encased in shadow. “We’ll be in touch.”

The doors closed behind them with a soft hiss.

The room was empty now, save for Erik. I heard the lingering hum of the holo-display, the harsh, unflattering light still fixed on me, exposing every wrinkle in my blouse, every drop of sweat still clinging to my forehead. I was more a mess now than when I’d walked in. Somehow I’d done the impossible: I’d made things worse.

There was no need for feedback. I already knew.

From the shadows, a soft flick—then the glow of a cigarette.

Erik took a long drag, the ember flaring briefly. He exhaled slowly, the smoke billowing out from the shadows into the light, like a whispered threat. He said nothing.

I stood frozen. I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read him. That was the danger with Erik: You never knew which version would step forward.

“I—I’m really sorry,” I stammered, clumsily stumbling over an apology. “I know you were counting on me…and I know what a great opportunity this?—”

He took another drag.

Held it.

Then stepped forward into the light.

“Careful, Ms. Redfield…” he said, smoke trailing from his lips. “I’m not my father.”

A beat.

“I’ll huff…and I’ll puff…and I’ll blow your dreams down.”

Then he turned and walked out, the echo of his footsteps trailing behind, leaving only smoke, silence, and a broken me.

I stood there, trying to breathe, but the air felt thin. My legs trembled. The room tilted. I felt strange and hot, like I was about to?—

My knees hit the floor first, then my hands, then everything else. Cold marble pressed against my cheek. I tasted blood.

Through half-lidded eyes, I watched the smoke curl toward the ceiling like a ghost.

Then it all went dark.

CHAPTER 2

BLANCHETTE

Picking at the thread that was poking out of the red blanket draped across my lap, I eyed the flickering shadows dancing in the corner as I waited. The orange flame of my candle next to the green wall made me think of a crackling campfire in the deep woods, soothing and mesmerizing.

The paint colorwascalled Velvet Forest. The name was easy enough to remember considering I’d cursed it over and over again when I’d painted my living room last year. I’d thought it would take a single afternoon. In reality it had taken three days, and there was still a section where I’d missed the second coat. I’d just moved the big bookcase there and no one was any wiser, though sometimes the mere thought of that unfinished section bothered me. Like a scab that itched.