Lisi Harrison - Monster High 3: Where Theres a Wolf, Theres a Way

Copyright 2011 by Mattel, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

MONSTER HIGH and associated trademarks are owned by and used under license from Mattel, Inc.

Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Poppy

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First eBook Edition: September 2011

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN: 978-0-316-19162-3

Monster High

The Ghoul Next Door

Alphas

Movers and Fakers

Belle of the Brawl

Top of the Feud Chain

The Clique

Best Friends for Never

Revenge of the Wannabes

Invasion of the Boy Snatchers

The Pretty Committee Strikes Back

Dial L for Loser

Its Not Easy Being Mean

Sealed with a Diss

Bratfest at Tiffanys

The Clique Summer Collection

P.S. I Loathe You

Boys R Us

Charmed and Dangerous: The Rise of the Pretty Committee

The Cliquetionary

These Boots Are Made for Stalking

My Little Phony

A Tale of Two Pretties

The moona delicately arched crescentwas weeks away from being full. It was not time to hide. She was not transforming. Her monthly battle with rapid hair growth, insatiable hunger, and extreme irritability was not the issue. Still, Clawdeen Wolf was in a dark ravine, running for her life.

Slow down! she barked at the five athletic J.Crew catalogworthy guys who formed a protective rhombus around her as they charged, panting, through the woods. Their mud-stained construction boots pounded the twig-covered earth with tireless determination. Not a minute passed without one of them vowing to keep Clawdeen safe, pledging to sacrifice his life for hers. It would have been extremely sweetromantic, evenif they were contestants on The Bachelorette. But since they were her brothers, it was getting super annoying.

My feet are killing me! she groaned between breaths.

Howldon, aka Don, the oldest triplet by sixty-eight seconds, peered over his shoulder and looked down, fixing his orange-brown eyes on Clawdeens pointy-toed gold ankle boots. Id kill you too if you stuffed me into those things. He turned to face the thicket ahead. Its like the shoemaker only made room for one toe.

Howie, the middle triplet, snickered. If Howleen, or Leena, the youngest triplet, had been there, she would have seen Dons insult and doubled it. Leenawhose nickname rhymed with mean-a for a reasonhad boot issues of her own, thanks to Arrowhead Boot Camp. While Clawdeen suffered from blisters, Leenas pain came from a drill sergeant, five AM whistles, and group meetings about anger management. Ahhhh just thinking about her certifiable sisters yearlong sentence brought relief.

They didnt come from a shoemaker! Clawdeen practically spit. They were designed by L.A.M.B.

Is that why youre running so baaaaaaaad? joked Clawnor from the back. His nickname was Nino because he tended to be windy, like El Nio.

The Wolf brothers laughed.

Whats your excuse? Clawdeen wanted to ask. But she already knew. Her sensitive canine ears heard the curses Nino muttered every time he ran into a branch.

Now thirteen, her youngest brothers fur was coming in fast. Ninos bushy brows, sideburns, and tangles of black hair undulated in front of his dark eyes like sea grass. It was nothing a bobby pin or styling products couldnt fix, but Nino refused. He had waited all his life for big-boy fur and wasnt about to let a few thwacks in the face bully him back to baldness.

Owie, Clawdeen whimpered. The sting of a heel rubbed raw slowed her sprint to a gallop. Is it hard to get blood out of leather? If only Lala were here. Shed know. But none of her friends were around. That was the problem well, one of them.

Keep moving, Clawdeen, Rocks insisted, grabbing her wrist to pull her along. Leaves and long shadows blurred into bands of darkness. Were almost there.

This is so stupid. She limp-ran, holding up her purple halter dress. We dont even know if anyone is chasing us and

No, whats stupid is a girl running in lambs boots, he snapped. They were obviously made for hooves, not toes.

The boys howled with laughter. Clawdeen might have chuckled too if her feet werent throbbing like techno. Instead, Rockss insane remark became an excuse to stop running and glare at him.

Born Howlmilton, Clawdeens younger brother got his nickname because of his dumb-as-rocks comments. But what he lacked in smarts, he made up for in speedrecord-breaking, jowl-dropping, thirty-five-miles-per-hour speed. All he had to do to stay on the school track teamand retain his star statuswas get straight Ds. Which he did, making the familys fastest member also the slowest.

Keep moving! Howie barked as the others forged ahead.

They took a lot of crap from the other RADs for their birth names. But deep down, they had similar objections. Because, seriously, what had their parents been thinking? Its not like all normie kids were named Norman, Norma, Normandy, or Normiena. So why the need to force Howl and Claw on the Wolf kids? Being a girl with a hairy neck was embarrassing enough. Couldnt her parents have at least tried to make life less mortifying?

Rocks smacked Clawdeens butt playfully. Giddyup, lamb.

Growling, she started limping forward again, silently cursing the day for not turning out the way it was supposed to.

Thursday, October fourteenth, I curse you! You tricked me! From now on, my year has three hundred sixty-four days.

It wasnt supposed to happen like this. The itinerary had been solid. After school and a rigorous body wax, she, Lala, and Blue would take a limo to the Oregon sand dunes. There, they would meet up with Cleo and the accessories editor for Teen Vogue. First, a team of hair and makeup artists would glam Clawdeen, Blue, and Cleo into models. Under Lalas direction, stylists would adorn them in priceless jewels exhumed from Cleos aunts tomb. Next, the famed photographer Kolin VanVerbeentengarden would photograph them on camels for a fashion editorial layout on Cairo couture. After a toast to their futures in fashion, they would sneak tiny sips of champagneaka model waterthen limo back to Salem. The next day would be spent delighting their classmates with enviable anecdotes from the set. Months later, their exotic beauty would be available on newsstands everywhereprinted on high-gloss paper and bound by Cond Nast.