Ben grabbed my hand and nodded over to a spot north of the circle. The sky had deepened almost to black now, and the trees were lost in darkness.
Red eyes stared back. Points of glowing embers, about the height of a tall wolf. I wasn’t imagining it.
“Was that the thing you saw in New Mexico?” I whispered.
“I never got a good look at it.” His voice trembled, just a little.
The others looked out to where we stared.
“Jesus—” I thought that was Joe.
“Nobody move,” Tony said, his calm slipping a little.
“It’s not a wolf,” I said. “It doesn’t smell like wolf.”
“It smells like death,” Ben said, and he was right. The embers went out for just a moment—blinking. The eyes blinked at us.
“Oh, God—” Alice said, her voice gone high, like a little girl’s.
Tony said, “Alice, stay where you are, don’t run!”
Too late. She backed up, her footsteps scraping clumsily on the ground. Then she turned, arms flailing, and raced. Not to the cars, not to the house, either of which offered safety. She ran blindly into the darkness, guided only by panic.
That was exactly what the monster wanted.
“No!” Tony called.
“Joe, get your rifle!” Marks shouted.
The wolf shot out of the darkness like a rocket.
My senses collided. It wasn’t a wolf. It didn’t smell right, it didn’t look right, nothing about this was right. But it had four legs, a long snout, a sleek body with a tail stuck straight back like a rudder. Its coat shone coal-black, and its eyes glared red. Angrily red.
I intercepted it.
It raced straight for Alice, latching on to her terror and marking her as prey. Movement attracted notice. I knew the feeling. I didn’t think about it—I just knew that I could stand up to the monster better than Alice could.
I crashed into it from the side, tackling its flank, wrapping my arms around it, pulling it down. I wasn’t human—I had this thing inside me that let me move faster than I ever thought I could, that made me stronger than I should have been. My Wolf was a match for it.
But the wrongness of it was overwhelming. As soon as I touched it, a numbness wracked my limbs, poured into my body. It made me want to curl into a ball, fetal, and scream until the world turned right again. My vision went gray.
We rolled together in the dirt. The black wolf snarled and twisted back on itself, snapping at the sudden anchor that had brought it down. Teeth closed on my arm, jaws clamping down hard, ripping into my skin. Better me than Alice. I was already a lycanthrope. I could take it.
I gasped, and my Wolf writhed, growling in pain and anger. Again, a sense of wrongness—the attack didn’t just happen on the surface of my body, but crawled inside it, trying to eat through me from the inside. I’d never felt anything like it. My body slipped a little—she wanted to Change, she could fight better as a wolf, she wanted out so she could protect herself.
Claws, I needed claws to tear. But I couldn’t move. I expected my hands to thicken, my arms to melt. I wanted to feel my nails grow thick, hard as knives, and break through that monster’s skin.
But I didn’t.
I usually resisted the Wolf, kept her leashed tight. This time, now, when I wanted to feel her, wanted her to break free and save me—nothing happened. I froze with astonishment. With fear, while the monster grabbed hold of me.
“Kitty!” Ben shouted.
I prayed he stayed back. I wanted him out of this. I didn’t want him to have to fight like this.
In something of a panic I slashed, as if I had claws. My fingers raked rough, oily, ugly fur, causing no damage. The thing slammed me onto my back—and made a noise that almost sounded like laughter. My head cracked against the ground, and I saw stars. It pinned me, thick paws on my chest, claws digging in. Its breath smelled of carrion, of sickness. Plague and death. I thrashed in pure animal panic, kicked, got my hands up, took hold of its throat, and pushed. Get off… get the hell off me…
Its jaws opened over my throat, and its sickly breath gusted over me. I melted, my strength ebbing.