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"Not a dog!" Grady roared before Claudia shushed him. "A demonic beast. A huge black wolf with glowing eyes and fangs as big as your fingers."
Jeremy peeked from a bush, ears swiveled, head tilted, as if to say, "Who, me?"
"It was a dog," Claudia said, her tone wavering between exasperation and frustration. "A large black dog. Yes, his eyes probably seemed to glow--reflected in the moonlight--but it was a dog. You've been under a lot of strain--"
"Bloody hell, woman. Something is going on here, and if you start nattering at me about jet lag and a change in diet--"
"Where's this wolf, Bradford?"
"I don't know. Out there. Somewhere."
"Are you going to take a look?"
"For a wild beast? I'm not mad, woman."
"Do you want me to take a look?"
"Of course not. Just--" A sigh. "Maybe it was a dog."
"Um-hmm."
The scrape of shoes on patio stones. Then the whir of the patio door closing. And all went silent.
GRADY'S LIGHT went off minutes later and stayed off. I spoke to Peter some more, getting his son's name and some other info--birthdate, last known job, schools attended--in case finding him required more than just looking it up in the phone book. Then I hurried to catch up on my paw-print-wiping duties.
Over an hour passed. Jeremy found a dead bird and a dead cat--the former probably a casualty of the latter, which must have been a family pet before death turned it into garden fertilizer.
I reburied the animals and followed Jeremy through the last few beds. No bodies.
While he changed back, I stood watch, more careful now than I'd been the first time, aware of our spectral audience. Seeing my "cadaver dog" change into a man would require a more elaborate explanation than I could dream up.
The ghosts seemed to have left, and I'd asked Eve to circle the perimeter, just to be sure. But I was still on edge, so when I heard a mutter near the neighbor's pool house, I slipped through the hedge to find Jeremy crouched on all fours near the outbuilding.
I stammered an apology and spun around.
He let out a soft laugh. "It's all right, Jaime. I'm human. And decent. Well...pretty much." The sound of a zipper. "There."
"Sorry," I said as I turned. "I thought I heard someone talking."
He bent again, as if examining the ground. "That was me. I picked up my shoe and forgot I'd tucked my watch and pocket change inside." He glanced up from his search. "Still frustrated from my lack of results, it seems."
He brushed his hair from his face, finished gathering his spilled belongings, then stood. He was barefoot, dressed in dark jeans, his dark shirt thrown on, but still untucked and unbuttoned. His hair was tousled from the Change. Sweat-soaked stray strands clung to his face.
I knew from Elena that the Change wasn't some Hollywood-style morphing where not a single hair gets mussed. Jeremy's face was shiny with exertion, spots of color on his cheeks, his eyes gleaming, lips parted as he caught his breath.
My gaze traveled down his open shirt front, along the thin line of dark hair, the lean muscled chest, the flat stomach...
My heart--and other body parts--started doing flip-flops.
He snapped his watch back on and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to brush it into some semblance of order.
"Sorry," he said. "I'm a bit of a mess."
"That's okay." Really okay.
He motioned me closer. I tried not to trip over my feet in my rush to get there. He backed farther behind the shelter of the pool house.
"Not much chance of being spotted back here," he said, nodding at the brick wall beside us. "Grady didn't seem like he was going to raise a fuss, did he?"
