“Tean,” Jem shouted, “go!”
Tean ran toward the wolfman.He had to weave between the rows of tables, which slowed him.The wolfman’s attention was still on Jem, and Jem was still giving ground.He was almost out of room to back up.Tean tried to think, tried to come up with a plan.He needed a weapon, something.But he hadn’t brought anything with him, no gun, no knife, not even his bear spray.They’d come here straight from McDonald’s because Jem had thought they didn’t have any time to lose.And now he was going to—
There wasn’t a plan.There wasn’t even a thought at the end of that sentence.
What would Jem do?
Jem’s back hit the wall.He swung with the antenna, but it was weak, and the sound when it hit the wolfman’s chest was like the snap of a rubber band.The wolfman brought his hand out wide, the knife like a streak of silver.
Tean jumped on his back.And then he grabbed the man’s nose through the mask and yanked.
The wolfman howled.He spun in a half-circle, trying to shake Tean loose.Tean tightened his grip and pulled harder.The wolfman howled again, and this time, he thrust backward with the knife.Tean had half a heartbeat to realize how stupid he’d been and that he was about to die.
And then Jem had the wolfman’s arm in some kind of lock.His face was white with strain, and he shouted, “Go!Go!Go!”
Tean forced his arms to loosen, and he fell off the wolfman.The wolfman, for his part, had forgotten him and was focused on Jem again; he was clubbing at Jem with his free hand, trying to pound Jem’s shoulder, the side of his head, anywhere he could reach while Jem fought to control the knife.
There had to be some way to help.Something Tean could do.
And then Jem snapped, “The kids!”
It was like a stone falling to the bottom of still water.
The kids.
“Hurry,” Jem said, huffing with the effort.And then he barreled into the wolfman, and they crashed into the closest table and went down.
For a moment, Tean couldn’t run.Couldn’t move.
And then, from that dark place deep down came the thought: Daniel.
He turned in place, taking in the rest of the room.Another wolfman lay on the floor against one wall; blood stained his mask and the front of his shirt, and he wasn’t moving.Nasha lay in the hall, dead.Beyond her lay the drag queen who called herself Queen Bee, her white sneakers dappled with blood.The smell of mineral spirits or paint thinner or something was thick in the air, and two jerry cans lay overturned, the floor around them covered with more of the shimmering liquid.It made him think of the barn at Direwolf Ranch.
No sign of Daniel and the other kids.
“Daniel?”he shouted.“Justin?”
Jem and the wolfman rolled again.Another table went down.Glass shattered.
And from upstairs came a muffled shout.
Tean started for the front of the house.The smell of the paint thinner seemed to follow him.He passed Nasha’s office, where an overturned chair and broken plaster suggested some sort of struggle.In the front hall, a table lay on its side, and a shattered vase spilled silk flowers on the floor.He had enough presence of mind to undo the deadbolt on the front door; the police would need to be able to get inside.The police.Where were the goddamn police?
Swear jar, said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Jem.
When he started up the stairs and the thick runner squished underfoot, he realized the smell of paint thinner wasn’t following him; it was here, already soaked into the carpet, and stronger than ever.Tean hesitated, brain trying to map out alternatives.Then he took the stairs two at a time.
He stopped at the landing.Ahead of him, the door was open to the room the kids called the tower—the architectural oddity on the front of the house that Daniel and his friends had staked out as their own.The fumes were so thick here that Tean’s head began to swim, and he pulled his shirt over his nose as he took a step toward the open doorway.
A wolf moved into view.
The rancher shirt.The worn jeans.The Ariat boots that had seen real roping and riding.The eyes like pieces from a broken mirror.The Halloween mask hid Kai’s face, but Tean thought, even so, he could see the smile.There was no sign of the wig, the makeup, the velveteen suit.The drag queen, Lupita Bonita, had been erased completely.
Tean’s chest was so tight that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk.The fumes—and what was, undoubtedly, hyperventilation, and the overdrive of adrenaline, and his body needing more oxygen than it could get—made him feel like he was hovering above the floor.But when he spoke, his voice was calm, somehow.“Hello, Kai.”
Kai stared at him.There was something hypnotic about the dead mirrors of his eyes.Something about the way his head wove back and forth slightly.Something about the soft, crooning noise that was, Tean knew, the beginning of a howl.
“They’re children,” Tean said.“Why don’t you let them go, and you and I can talk?”
