Ranger Brock raised his right hand and placed it in the open hand of the werewolf. The ranger’s hand settled into the lycanthrope’s palm, reminding the ranger of the times when he’d held his father’s hand as a child. Then, the werewolf curled his talons around the hand, making it almost disappear.

The ranger did his best to protect his hand from being crushed, but the werewolf was just too strong. He closed his hand tightly around the ranger’s, almost breaking it with his vicelike grip.

The ranger tried to keep from crying out in pain, but his hand hurt too much. “Ow!” he cried.

Immediately the werewolf loosened its hold and turned to leave.

“I don’t think he meant to hurt you,” said Tora.

“No,” said Phyllis. “He was just saying thank you.”

“In that case, you’re welcome,” the ranger replied. His hand was red and swollen, and two of his fingers looked as if they might be broken.

The werewolf started to run across the yard and, within a few steps, changed from its full werewolf form to that of a wolf—a huge silver-gray wolf that couldn’t seem to get into the forest fast enough.

Within seconds, it was racing north through the trees with the rest of its pack following close behind.

“Do you think that’s the last we’ll see of that wolf?” Phyllis asked.

The ranger massaged his swollen hand. “I hope so,” he said. “For my sake…and the sake of the town.”

Just then, the report of a gunshot echoed off the mountain.

“What was that?” asked Tora.

“Somebody’s shooting,” replied Noble.

“Oh, no,” said the ranger. “Not again.”

Chapter 14

Ranger Brock was busy on the house phone trying to get hold of Sergeant Martin, or anyone else at the RCMP detachment, to find out what was going on. His first concern was for who or what had been shot. He doubted it was a wolf since all of the wolves of the werewolf’s pack had been in the forest behind the house when the shot was fired. Chances that it was another wolf or wild animal were slim. That left a human target, and few people roamed the forests around Redstone after dark…

The front door opened and in stepped Noble.

“Did you find him?” Phyllis asked.

Noble shook his head. He’d been down to the main highway, searching about a half-mile in each direction.

Outside, Tora and Harlan were returning from a quick search of the forest behind the house. Phyllis went to the back door to meet them. “Any luck?” she asked.

“No,” said Tora. “There was no sign of Argus anywhere, but we did follow the trail of the wolves for a while.”

“They headed due north,” said Harlan. “Just like he said they would.”