Excerpt: Wolfen III

Raina sat on the curb across the street.

The once, non-distinctive little white cape cod house was now a massive bonfire that kept all the neighborhood spectators comfortably warm on this chilly night.

White and gray hoses extended like tentacles across the road and lawn, while black smoke huffed into the dark sky, cheered on by the sound of angry flames.

She should have had more feelings about the house she'd grown up in, instead there was an eerie sense of relief that perhaps the secrets long hidden within would be at rest.

Eventually the firemen realized there was nothing more they could do to save the house and devoted their full attention to containment.

Her cel phone rang and she fished it out of her pocket noting the words, "Private caller." There was a heavy breath and then the mangled words, "In bocca al lupo" before he hung up.

She leapt up looking from face to face of the onlookers searching out for someone with a cel phone, someone who knew her, likely watching her reaction, someone who knew the truth about the hand-painted italian words over her family's kitchen wall. She could feel eyes on her, but she couldn't see him, but he was out there and he watched.

A silver sedan pulled up on the far side of the road and a lean-muscled man got out drawing a firemen's coat and hat with him. His eyes seemed to take in the scene at a glance and then with uncanny precision he turned his full attention on her.

The expression "In bocca al lupo" might mean good luck, but she felt its more literal translation to the tips of her toes. Minute by minute she was feeling truly caught "in the mouth of the wolf".