But Warner isn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, he stares upward, where the half-full moon peeks through the canopy of the trees.

Before I can ask another question, something in the night shifts. At first, I’m sure it’s a breeze. Until I realize the darkness itself is moving, like the night has gained corporeal form.

The mass sticks to Warner.

He lets out a ragged breath. I hear a series of snaps, then my ears pop.

I blink. Once. Twice. Then rapidly, as if that’ll fix whatever has gone wrong with my eyesight.

Because there is definitely something wrong.

Warner is gone, and in his place stands a large, fearsome gray wolf.

22

ZOEY

My first thought is that Warner was mistaken. It wasn’t a mountain lion following us. It was a wolf.

But then an angry hiss sounds from the other side of the road a moment before a huge feline stalks out of the tree line.

Does the whole animal kingdom have a vendetta against me?

Before I can brainstorm how to fight both a wolf and a mountain lion, the cat leaps through the air. But not at me. The deadly claws swipe at the wolf, who bares its teeth and dodges away, only to circle back and snap at the lion’s haunches. The two creatures trade a handful of near-miss attacks until they finally come together in a horrible collision.

Their sounds rip through the night air, loud enough to hear despite the crashing of my pulse in my eardrums. Even though I’m standing still, I find myself panting as I watch the terrifying display of claws and teeth gouging into fur and flesh.

Finally, after seconds or hours, the mountain lion breaks away. The animal limps slightly and gives one last defiant hiss before it slinks back into the shadowy night.

The fight was so distracting that I momentarily forgot the danger I was in, but it all floods my mind now as the wolf turns to face me.

The creature approaches slowly, stalking me even though I’m in the open. As it reaches the edge of the road, I remember the bear spray I’m clutching. When I raise the bottle, the wolf stops.

Then, shocking the hell out of me, it lowers its head and offers an almost-apologetic tail wag.

But if I thought I knew what surprise was, it is nothing compared to the terrified wonder as I once again watch shadows come to life. This time, the second time, the transformation is undeniable. The form of the wolf ripples, as if we’d sunk to the bottom of a pool and water shifted around us. Then come the rapid cracks, and my ears pop.

Warner crouches on the edge of the asphalt, butt naked, hands held up in surrender.

“Please don’t spray me,” he murmurs. “I’m just going to grab my clothes.”