She had scoured the Internet during her lunch break for any explanation of sudden eye color change and arrived at nothing. There was no getting around it. She needed to make an appointment with an opthalmologist. No amount of drugs or allergic reaction to tetanus could change her eye color for this length of time.

Standing behind her, Terry framed her face with broad hands that looked like they belonged behind a plow and not in a salon. “They’re stunning. Do amazing things for your face.”

She glared at her reflection.

He didn’t understand. The eyes were all wrong. They weren’t hers.

In spite of her eagerness to change her appearance, her eyes had changed through no effort of her own. At least when she colored her hair she would know it came from a bottle. That it was her choice. And not a result of something else. What that something else was she couldn’t begin to fathom. Wouldn’t dare try.

As Terry led her to the back of the salon, she tried to reclaim her earlier enthusiasm, reminding herself that she was going to shop for new clothes after this and not feel the least bit guilty about it.

But a dark, mesmerizing voice insinuated itself into her mind, not to be forgotten, not to be ignored.

On the next full moon, you will shift. And you will kill.

No amount of pampering and self-indulgence could block out that deep voice. Not as long as he lurked out there, watching, waiting, a shadow that couldn’t be lost. It was just a matter of time before he showed himself again.

Claire walked through the school’s main double doors and squinted fiercely against the blinding sun the following afternoon. It felt like she had stepped into a sauna. Moist heat hugged her and sweat broke out on her top lip.

Students bumped against her as they rushed to escape. But what did she expect only five minutes after the final bell? Claire usually remained at school at least another hour grading papers. But not today. Today, bobbing in a sea of fleeing teens, she craved escape as much as the students. Even if she hadn’t, she still needed to leave right after the bell to make her ophthalmologist appointment.

She walked quickly, eager to put the day behind her. The reactions her new look elicited had grown tedious. The students clearly approved—to an embarrassing degree. By sixth period, she had boys sitting in her class who weren’t even on her attendance roster. Their admiration uncomfortably clear, she spent most of the day managing inappropriate behavior… and in a far harsher manner than was her tendency. Much to her concern. What happened to her limitless patience? Her forbearance?

Through the horde of bodies, she spied a familiar flash of maroon ahead. Her heart accelerated and her steps faltered.