Ian’s eyes strayed to the screen, but he wasn’t watching. He inhaled deeply, and then every line of his body went tense. He nodded, like I thought he might. It would have been how Aden smelled the night he became a Mazikin.

As the previews played on, I looked around the theater. I couldn’t see very well, but I could still make out a few of our classmates staring at us from a few rows back. Caroline and her friends. Could they be … ?

A few guys walked into the theater, buckets of popcorn in hand. A guy sitting in our row half-stood up, waving at them, and then he turned his head and looked at me. I nearly flinched … and when I heard the low coughing and grunting coming from behind us, I did, swinging my head around as my fingers burrowed into Ian’s sleeve. From the far left side of the room came a clicking canine laughter.

Someone brushed the back of my neck.

I jumped to my feet. The startled couple behind me stared at me like they were too scared to ask me to sit down. Ian tugged on my sleeve. “Are you okay?”

I dropped back into my seat, scanning the crowd. We were surrounded by Mazikin. I grabbed his hand. “We have to go, all right?”

“What?” he whispered. “The smell isn’t that strong. Just because there’s a stoner—”

I was nose to nose with him before he finished his sentence. “Ian, get your ass up out of that chair and come with me. Right. Now.”

He looked at me like I was insane, but he let me pull him out of his seat and drag him along the row, stumbling over people’s feet. I was barely watching where I was going—I was too busy looking behind me to see if anyone was following us. Caroline and her girlfriends stared and whispered, but stayed in their seats. When we got to the aisle, I pushed Ian in front of me. “Watch your step. Come on. The emergency exit.”

Ian had parked around the side of the theater because it had been so crowded. His SUV had to be close to this exit. All we had to do was get to it.

A woman wearing a high ponytail and heavy black eye makeup stood up and stepped into the middle aisle, and I recognized her—she was the Mazikin that Jim had chased to the gas station. With her gaze on Ian, she descended the steps in parallel with us. My hand settled on Ian’s waist as I urged him forward. We would make it to the door before she did. Then I caught a sudden movement in my periphery. Holy crap. Two scruffy teenagers were now on the aisle steps behind us, coming down from one of the back rows.