Tom turned and glanced back at Kate. His eyes were still dark, still his own – the pale glow of the lupine shone there at the start of the change but soon dwindled and died. That set him apart from all other lupines Kate had ever seen, and she thanked God for this, his wereling strength. It helped her remember that Tom was still Tom, whatever form he was forced to take.

Suddenly, Tom turned and threw himself into the pack of awakening ’wolves.

‘Tom, no!’ Kate screamed.

The noise was dreadful. Barks and bays and growls, full of torment and anger, echoed out into the starry night. But Kate saw Tom was running rings around the creatures; he wasn’t attacking them so much as goading them, taking their attention. Distracting them deliberately, she realised, so that she might help the boy and get them both the hell out of there.

She broke cover and ran over to their quarry, who was still down on the ground, slowly edging away from the angry pack. He was kind of pretty for a boy, but his delicate features had been spoiled by a long scar that ran down his left cheek. He was olive-skinned, Spanish maybe, with shaven hair.

When he saw her coming he scrambled up painfully and held out his fists in warning. ‘No le quiero hacer daño,’ he said warningly, his voice heavy and scared, ‘so get the hell away from me, bitch.’

Kate groped around her ninth-grade Spanish for the translation, holding up her hands open-palmed to reassure him. ‘I don’t want to hurt you either,’ she said at last.

‘You ain’t gonna get the chance,’ he snarled. He turned and tried to run, but his injured ankle gave way under him and he crashed back down to the ground, swearing.

Kate was about to go after him when she caught sight of Tom. He’d broken clear of the pack and was trying to lead them away. Out for blood, the other lupines went bounding and lumbering after him, their sinister shapes soon lost to the night.

Ten against one. They could tear Tom to ribbons.

Worried, Kate grabbed her bag and Tom’s stuff and crossed to where the Hispanic kid lay cursing and struggling on the ground.

‘What did you do?’ she demanded.

‘Damn ankle sprained or something.’

‘I mean, what did you do to get a pack of werewolves chasing after you?’

He sneered at her. ‘And why are you on my case?’

‘Because my friend has just risked his life trying to save you,’ Kate responded fiercely. ‘You’d better be worth the rescue.’

He snorted. ‘Rescue? Sure. I know what kind of rescue you got in mind, wolf-girl.’ He mimed slitting his throat.

‘I’m as human as you are,’ she told him. ‘I’m not one of them. But they want me to be. They’re chasing after me like they are after you.’