Wicked Hungry

“Hold up,” Jonathan says. “Was this part of the plan? Because you are creeping me out. What are you doing?”

Enrique looks at him as he unbuckles his belt. “You want to turn into a fox wearing those clothes, go right ahead. But if I turn into a jaguar wearing this, my clothes will all be torn to shreds and it will hurt.”

“It will hurt, huh?” Jonathan asks, putting his finger to his belt.

“A lot, probably,” I say.

Enrique nods. “More than it does already.”

“Whoa,” Jonathan says. “You two never said anything about pain.”

“What do they say here in America?” Enrique asks. “‘No pain, no gain?’”

“Yeah, but they’re talking about lifting weights. Not turning into a fox.”

“It doesn’t hurt that much,” I say. “I think. I was kind of drunk the second time, and the first time I was really angry.”

“Not that much,” Jonathan says. “Great, dude, I’m into this.”

“You prefer to go out there with the zombies and find out if you can change, or maybe just get eaten?” Enrique asks.

Jonathan shakes his head.

“Then strip,” I say.

“Just keep your eyes off my foxy body,” Jonathan says, and turns away from me.

“Hey, Jonathan,” I say, pulling off my clothes. “If you hear me growling, just understand I’m growling with you, not at you, okay?”

But really, what if we all attack each other? I look at Enrique, who is wearing nothing except some briefs.

“You don’t think we’ll fight?” he whispers. “As animals?”

Uh-oh. Now it’s out in the open.

“We’ll see,” I say.

Chapter 27: CHANGES

“We’ll see?” asks Jonathan. “What’s that mean, we’ll see?”

But Enrique has turned around to pull down his briefs. He turns up the music, and then all hell breaks loose.

Enrique changes faster than my eyes can process. His musk fills the room, and I feel my own transformation inside me. There

’s barely time to pull off my socks and underwear as my fingers change into claws, as my face lengthens.

You know what I forgot?

How much it hurts.

And just when the pain is at its greatest, and I’m bigger and badder and wolfier than ever before, there’s a knock on the door. A loud one, too.

Razor sharp teeth burst through my bleeding gums. My head swells, my hands stretch, and my fingers pulse and throb. My enormous head turns slowly towards Enrique, or what was once Enrique, but now instead there’s this huge black cat, smelling so strongly of cat musk that I want to jump forward and snap. But Enrique sees me looking, cocks his head to the side, and makes a low feline growl.

I turn towards Jonathan then. My body wants to jump on him, too, to knock him down, tear into his shoulder. But. I. Refuse. To. Give. In.

I try to sigh, to let out the tension, but it comes out as this big huffing noise.