He landed barely a metre from the battered sports car, but it was already reversing. One of the thugs had been left behind. He swung around to face Tom, swiping at him with a metal bar. The bar caught Tom heavily behind the ear, knocking him flat on the asphalt. Everything went hazy.

As the world rolled back into focus, Tom heard the engine of the Porsche receding into the distance. The thug who’d jumped him was pelting away down a side street.

There was a deafening explosion as the Lexus erupted in flames. The force of the blast sent Tom tumbling further out into the road. Then he heard light footsteps, someone running towards him. He tried to move but his limbs were sluggish. He turned his head, bared his dagger-teeth in warning. It was Rico, staring at him with his big, dark eyes.

‘Stay away from him, Ric!’ Jasmine warned. She was peering around from behind the garbage truck, it must’ve shielded her and Rico from the blast.

‘He’s hurt,’ Rico shouted back. ‘We gotta get him outta here. He got us out.’

Tom’s ’wolf limbs were cramping up; his whole body was shaking. With the rage literally knocked out of him, he could feel his body preparing to shift back to human form. He would be weak, defenceless, exposed –not to mention stark naked. This place would be swarming with emergency services and crowds of onlookers anytime now. He couldn’t be found here.

Rising jerkily to his feet, he limped painfully towards the same side street the thug had taken, then paused and looked back. Jasmine had skirted the burning wreck and stood beside Rico, grabbing hold of his shoulders.

But Rico wriggled clear. ‘I think he wants us to go with him.’

‘What, so he’s Lassie now?’ Jasmine retorted. ‘Jeez, Ric, he’s a ’wolf. You know what they can do. You more than most.’

‘He ain’t like them, Jas, I swear it.’

But Tom couldn’t listen any longer. He ran stiffly for the side street, felt his teeth ache and his jaw tighten; felt his pelvic bones start to burn and melt as the metamorphosis took hold.

Time and motion blurred, and suddenly he was moving on two legs, not four, and he was freezing cold, slumped naked against a graffiti-strewn wall with his head thumping to the erratic beat of his heart. He gingerly felt for the wound from the iron bar. The speeding of his blood through the metamorphosis had reduced the damage to little more than an egg-shaped bump.

He turned to find Rico and Jasmine standing before him.

Jasmine’s eyes had dried, she stood cold and composed. ‘Things ain’t bad enough already? I got to see you butt-naked now before I even get breakfast?’ She held out a bundle of clothes – a fluorescent garbage collector’s jacket, grimy trousers, and heavy boots. ‘Get these on.’