Prologue

January 16th, 2010

When the mutilated carcasses were discovered on the outskirts of Inverness University, whispers once again haunted its stone archways. Secret-laden foggy fingertips crept across manicured lawns, and Morgan knew it would only be a matter of time before her best friend took up the hunt.

Then, Coach went missing.

White light bobbed before the pair, barely illuminating the path against overgrown woods and inky darkness. Embattled beams did their best against the omnipresent shadows of a seemingly sentient forest. A fight which would have proved futile but for the expertise of the two—the leader in particular.

She navigated errant roots and set the soles of her Sorels against rocks when the ground gave way to mud. Batting aside branches, she forged ahead through the trees. 

Morgan knew better than to question if they were going in the right direction. Somehow, Riley always knew the way. As though she had some sort of preternatural compass buried in the recesses of her consciousness.

Morgan shivered as ice-cold wind funneled from the crashing waves and made its way through the forest. She readjusted her scarf to protect any trace of bare skin. Riley zipped up her coat and pulled the beanie closer around her ears. The few trees that had turned golden in the fall were skeletal husks now, but the evergreen majority afforded the girls some protection against the assault of the sea breeze. 

“Riley, how much further are we going? We’re going to freeze to death out—“

“Shh!” Her friend cut her off. But even without the hush, Morgan’s words would have died on her lips. Because out of nowhere, a glow rose out of the darkness, accompanied by an inexplicable yet much-appreciated warmth. 

Appreciated, that is, until the pair discovered its source. As they crept closer to the heart-stopping vision beyond the illuminated trees, Morgan held her breath and looked to her friend for guidance. But Riley’s eyes remained fixed on the dozens of cloaked figures holding up unnecessary lanterns given the ferocity of the flames at the center of the circle. 

“Coach!” Worry laced Riley’s fervent whisper.

Morgan’s heart stood still when she heard the whimpers, her vision drawn to the kenneled form. The normally plucky black lab cowered in the back of the cage, his fearful whines ripping through the hearts of both girls. Riley’s eyes blazed white-hot in more than a reflection of the flames.

When someone opened the cage and hauled the terrified creature out, his cries turned panicked and he lost his bowels. Riley bit down in reflexive anger but didn’t realize the damage she had inflicted until she tasted metal. 

One of the cloaked figures held an ancient-looking tome while another assembled a series of objects that clanged against each other. The light from the fire reflected menacingly off the instruments of torture.

The hooded beast dragged the poor creature forward, wrenching him the last bit of the way. Coach landed in front of the insidious devices, and the one with the book began to read. The language was harsh and guttural—nothing that either of the girls recognized, not even Riley. A shadowed hand reached down and drew a butcher’s knife before approaching the terrified animal.

“Hey!” shouted Riley, rising from her hiding spot and entering the clearing despite the weapons that might be concealed in the cloaks before her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Morgan sighed but followed in her friend’s wake. She was never as good at this part as Riley, but she always had her back. Moreover, no matter her fear, Morgan knew they’d both be damned before they let someone so much as harm a hair on that poor animal’s head—much less gut it before their very eyes.

Riley and Morgan’s breach of the circle resulted in silence befalling the scene, save for the crackling fire and Coach’s relentless whines. As the two girls stared down the sea of cloaked bodies, a shiver ran down Morgan’s spine. But if Riley felt any fear, she didn’t show it. Instead, she moved in the direction of the university's beloved therapy pup. His whimpers took on a hopeful edge when he recognized her.

Riley’s frozen hands disappeared into her pocket before pulling out the small knife she always kept on her. She flipped it open and held it out.

“Give me the dog,” Riley growled, menace coating the edges of her voice. Despite being shorter than the hooded figures—not to mention outnumbered—Riley leveled a chilling glare on the foursome.

Heads and fabric bobbed as they exchanged whispers. Taking advantage of the distraction, Riley lunged forward and wrenched the leash away from the hand that held it.

“Hey!” The tell-tale masculine voice was indignant as he grasped at the rope in an effort to keep his hold. But Riley already had the position of power. She passed the lead to Morgan and held up the knife—the threat obvious should he or anyone else attempt to reclaim the dog. 

To be continued…