The Forbidden Life of Alex Moore(24)

Alex shifted, looking for new tracks or flashes of black against the snow…white lantern eyes glowing with malevolence. Nothing moved out there but the wash of white.
“Yesterday when the hellhounds had me pinned,” he said, still scanning, “Belle attacked one of them about a second before it ripped out my throat. She chased it into the woods.”
Lilly moved to his side and touched his arm. He faced her, taking in her drawn features and worried eyes.
“I saw that,” she said. “I just didn’t know what was happening. It looked like she slammed into an invisible wall when she was jumping over you. Then she ran off into the woods….”
“She chased it away.” He frowned, still holding her gaze. “Hellhounds don’t run from anything. But she chased it into the woods.”
They both looked at Belle. The dog prowled in front of the door, but now stopped and stared back. She pricked her ears and cocked her head, as if listening to every word. The other dogs quieted and waited for the outcome of the conversation.
Uneasy, Alex went on. “Later, after you showed up and started shooting, she came back.”
Lilly nodded. “Yes. I was so relieved. I’d just hiked halfway up that stupid mountain looking for her. I thought she’d run off again.”
“She wasn’t alone,” he said. “There was so much going on, I couldn’t be sure of what I saw. But now… Lilly, she brought that hellhound back with her. Like they were…friends. And it stood in front of you and didn’t try to eat you.”
“It was standing in front of me?”
He nodded. “And all the other dogs. They should have been tasty little treats to a hellhound. Especially that one.”
He pointed at Harley. Ferociously, Harley growled back.
“What did the hellhound want?” Lilly said, frowning.
Alex gave a short, dry laugh. “Want? Usually blood. But that one… You’ll have to ask Belle. She seemed to be communicating with it.”#p#分页标题#e#
Lilly gave the big dog a stunned look. Belle opened her huge mouth and let her tongue loll out. Excitement over and escape denied, the other dogs padded away from the door and back to their beds by the fire. Whatever had snagged their attention must have moved on. Alex certainly couldn’t see any sign of trouble outside. The baying—which Lilly had heard—had come from far off.
It had spooked the animals. It had spooked him, too. He’d fallen into a sense of false security, cocooned in this world of white with Lilly.
“How long has Belle been running off for that trail?”
“Since Amy died. Maybe before. I don’t know.”
Again, he heard the pain in Lilly’s voice. He wanted to ask about her sister. Had they resembled one another? What had she died of?
He wanted to touch, Lilly. To pull her close and chase away the grief that shadowed her eyes. He wanted to find a quiet room and bang his head against the wall until his brain re-engaged. This woman was not his.
“Keep talking,” he said as he made one more round of all the windows. Each one gave him the same view. Storm. Snow. Silence.
“She always ran off in the mornings. About the same time every day. She’d come back before noon and I thought…I thought she was grieving. She’d spend the rest of her day wandering the house and yard. Looking for Amy.”
The sadness in Lilly’s voice tugged at something inside him. He knew there were human customs that went with death, words that should be spoken. Sentiments that should be shared. But he didn’t know how to say what needed to be said, so he didn’t try.
“You never noticed anything strange about her when she came back?” he asked softly.
Lilly shook her head, her eyes a mirror of her hurt, confusion.
And awareness. Even now, it hummed between them, that current that connected them, while somehow keeping them apart.
Alex hung his machete by the door, took Lilly’s rifle from her unresisting fingers and propped it against the wall.
“I don’t know jack about dogs,” she said. “I keep thinking it should be easy, but apparently, I’m ill-equipped. I’m probably doing everything wrong.”
She gave a small, broken laugh and shook her head.
“I didn’t even know I had a sister until last year. I didn’t remember Amy, but she remembered me…remembered our mom giving me away when I was little. Amy found me, but only long enough to break my heart.” Lilly sniffed and gave him a brave smile. The one that hid what she was really thinking. The one he was learning to hate.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
She shrugged and looked away.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t belittle it.”