Wolfsbane and Mistletoe (Charlaine Harris) (Kitty Norville 2.50)

"Ah, come on, hon," said her husband. "Think who's with her. She'll be the safest girl in the neighborhood. Take your time, kiddo. Show Waldo who's friendly and where the weirdos are. "

"'Kay, 'bye," she called, leading him out the front door.

Lehrmann looked through the bars at his watch. Five minutes. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the cage and took deep slow breaths. He held his hands out at his sides, palms up.

Outside the windows, the sky turned to night.

"Om," he chanted. "Om. "

The change always started inside his chest as his rib cage expanded. The surrounding muscles resisted for a moment, then began to stretch and re-form to accommodate the larger shape.

"Om," he continued. "Om. "

It spread up through his shoulders and neck, and down through his pelvis as the bones shifted, making crackling noises like twigs popping on a fire. The hair was sprouting now, thick, coarse, and gray.

"Om," he said, clinging to the sound, concentrating all of his being in the chant.

The arms and legs were at it now, the claws bursting through his fingers and toes. That pain was always the worst. The chant was coming out hoarsely. He was choking on it, but forced it out. Then came the jaws thrusting forward, the teeth, the fangs.

The mind.

"Om," he whimpered.

He wanted to howl.

Just one howl.

What harm could one little howl do?

Let it out.

"Om!" he shouted.

He took a deep breath.

"Om," he chanted. "Om. "

He sensed the other dogs watching him down the row of cages. Fascinated. Envious.

His heartbeat slowed back to normal. Whatever the hell that was.

Carson came by and sat, looking at him.

"I'm good, buddy," said Lehrmann. "Want to hand me the remote? Let's see what's on cable tonight. "

Carson went over to the table where the remote control sat next to the watch. He picked it up gently with his teeth and brought it over to the cage where the werewolf sat, scratching his back. He put it on the floor, then nudged it between the bars with his nose.

"Thanks, buddy," sa

id Lehrmann, picking it up and turning on the monitor mounted on the wall outside. He tore off a chunk of the lamb carcass and shoved it through the bars to the dog. Carson grabbed it and went back on patrol.

The usual Christmas fare. Repeats of specials he had seen dozens of times before. He flipped through them. There was the Island of Misfit Toys, and Linus wrapping his blanket to shore up that pathetic little tree. He growled with displeasure and turned it off.

"Oh, I love this one!" she cried. "Best 'Christmas Carol' ever!"

They were cuddling on the couch downstairs, a bowl of popcorn and a pitcher of bourbon-laced eggnog on the coffee table. Nicky was curled up on the far end, forcing them together. He wondered if that was her intent.

"The Mister Magoo one was the best," said Lehrmann.