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I have no time to wonder at these new sounds as I'm already flying through the air and hitting the wall. It feels like a truck going 80 miles an hour hit my shoulder.

"Zeke?" Mr. Whittemore calls. With a sideways view and still reeling from the gunshot to my shoulder, I watch him cautiously make his way down the hallway with the skill of an FBI agent.

He steps over the writhing body of the wolf I'd been chasing, pausing only to put a bullet in the creature's head. "Zeke?"

I don't like the fact that Zeke is not answering.

I stop moving, however, aware that Mr. Whittemore doesn't recognize me in this form and is likely to shoot me too. It's hard to stay still when you feel like your shoulder is on fire and there's a knife in between your ribs, stabbing your lungs. I do my best, closing my eyes and focusing on what I can hear going on in that other room.

The black wolf is whispering in Zeke's ear, so low and soft that Mr. Whittemore obviously can't hear him. I can barely hear him over the throbbing of my heartbeat in my ears. "Not a peep, human, not a peep." The black wolf is moving away from Zeke, releasing him, but keeping the shard of glass pointed at the boy.

As I zone in on the black wolf's movements, his thoughts come to me

Kill the man then the boy and finish off the Other

He'll wait for Mr. Whittemore to enter the room, which Mr. Whittemore will do, cautiously, wondering why Zeke is just standing there ready to piss himself. Or perhaps Mr. Whittemore is smarter than I thought.

"Zeke?" He's at the doorway, still standing in the hallway, his gun at the ready and now pointed at his own son. "Is there someone in here with you? Another wolf?"

I don't hear a reply other than a sound that might have been Zeke vigorously shaking his head no.

"Then come on out."

Mr. Whittemore waits, suspicion beading on his forehead because Zeke isn't moving. Zeke's eyes are flickering toward the man in his room, who is hiding somewhere Mr. Whittemore can't see. Zeke's eyes must be open wide; they make a very soft squishing noise as they roll around in his head. He gasps, and I know from the reek of wolf that the man has changed. It's a sudden scent of musk and heavy fur

...and lilacs?

That's when I immediately know that these wolves, and that black wolf in particular, have done something to Kayla. The bitter scent of a sudden rush of adrenaline fills my nostrils too much for me to tell if there are any other clues, the scent of blood for example, and it doesn't matter if they've hurt Kayla or not. It doesn't matter if my arm is falling off or my lung punctured.

My four legs shake as I heave myself up. I will get there. I will kill that black wolf.

I push myself down the hallway, chanting to myself

Kayla Kayla Kayla

My progress is so slow that Mr. Whittemore doesn't even notice me coming.

And then Zeke screams.

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