Park grabbed his arm before he could get closer. “Blood,” he said, grimly moving in front of Cooper, widely circling around Crane.

Cooper followed at his heels, watching for any sign of movement. But Arthur Crane was as still as the hundreds of dark, watching animals around them.

As they came around the front, Cooper could see the shadowy puddle at Crane’s feet and his once-white tuxedo shirt stained deep red. His face twisted into that same partial transformation, inhuman eyes half open in death.

“God,” Cooper exhaled. “Is he...”

It seemed obvious, but they had to check. Park stepped forward and checked his pulse. Cooper noticed Crane’s fingers, which had seemed unnaturally long, were actually fully clawed.

“Yes, he’s dead,” Park said, crouching to get a better look at the torso. “Four deep lacerations, just like James.”

“Slipped like James too,” Cooper said, taking a step closer. “The blood pool is so...neat. He must not have been moving at the time of death. Perhaps whatever is forcing the slip is a sedative as well,” he thought out loud.

“Would make sense,” Park agreed. “Here, does this look familiar?” He directed Cooper’s attention to Arthur’s left hand, clawed fingers slightly curled around something.

“James’s phone,” Cooper confirmed. “That’s the same one I found in the croc exhibit this morning. So Arthur bashed me over the head to protect whatever James had on him from getting out. Probably set both fires looking for the damn thing, too, knowing he had to cover his scent.”

“But it looks like he’s not our kill—” Park stopped and whipped his head around, eyes glowing gold.

Cooper looked around, too. “What?” he asked, scanning the room for whatever Park had sensed, expecting to see someone watching them. The problem was the whole room was full of dark shapes watching them. Bobcats, deer, wolves, bears, buffalo, raccoons. Everywhere he looked there was an animal posed in unnatural stillness...

Then one of the shadows shifted its weight.

“Oliver—” Cooper started, scrambling back. Park stood, but the shadow was already barreling toward them.

A pitch-black wolf slammed into Cooper at full speed, knocking Hirano’s book out of his hands and throwing them both directly into the case containing the grizzly bear. The glass cracked without shattering, and every trace of air was knocked clean out of Cooper’s lungs. He could only wheeze painfully, entire chest consumed by that aching fire, as the wolf scrambled upright on top of him. Fur in his mouth, warm breath on his face.

Not like this. Not like this.

Without thinking, Cooper shot his arm up between them, hand grabbing blindly and landing on the wolf’s throat. He squeezed desperately.

“No,” Cooper gasped with the precious little air he’d regained.