Read Online Night of the Werecat by R.L. Stine - Free Book Online

worried.
    â€œLet’s follow her. We’ll think of something,” Wendy reassured her.
    And I’ll think of a way to get Mrs. Bast to help me, Wendy thought.
    Wendy felt Tina tug at her sleeve. “What is it?” Wendy asked.
    Tina pointed to a street sign. “Uh, Wendy,” she said nervously. “Look where we are.”
    Wendy glanced up. Fear Street. They were now following Mrs. Bast down Fear Street.
    Fear Street wasn’t like the other streets in Shadyside. It always seemed colder, darker. Enormous trees lined both sides of the street. Wendy shuddered. Those branches look ready to grab us, she thought. Strange shadows danced along the ground.
    Figures, she thought. Of course this is where Mrs. Bast would lead them. Nothing had been normal since Wendy met the old woman.
    â€œShe lives here,” Tina whispered. Wendy watched Mrs. Bast disappear inside a small shabby house.
    Still carrying the cat in the basket.
    â€œCome on,” Wendy said. “Let’s find out what she’s up to.” She gestured for Tina to follow her.
    Wendy tried to quiet her pounding heart as she sneaked up to the house. She crawled across the porch and crouched below the window. Tina knelt beside her. Keeping her head low, Wendy peered through the dirty panes.
    The room was dark and gloomy. Wendy spied an old purple sofa with the stuffing falling out and a large dining room table. As the girls watched, Mrs. Bast placed the basket in the center of the table.
    â€œWhat’s she going to do to Shalimar?” Tina wondered, her voice shaking.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Wendy assured her. “We won’t let anything bad happen to him.”
    Wendy gazed through the glass. Mrs. Bast stood over the basket. Wendy could see that Mrs. Bast was talking to herself but couldn’t hear the words. The basket began to shake.
    Mrs. Bast reached into a box on the table and pulled out jars and bottles. She lined them up by the basket, continuing to mutter. Then she lifted the lid of the basket, pulled Shalimar out, and set him on the table.
    Holding the cat with one hand, Mrs. Bast picked up a large bottle with the other. She sprinkled white powder on the cat. Her lips moved rapidly the whole time.
    Wendy sank back on her heels. A chill ran down her spine. Of course! It all makes sense, she realized with horror. Mrs. Bast is a witch!
    The pieces fit together. The werecat charm. Wendy’s transformation. The house on Fear Street.
    The bottles must be filled with potions. Mrs. Bast must be putting a spell on Shalimar!
    A loud yowl from inside the house interrupted Wendy’s thoughts.
    â€œShe’s torturing him!” Tina cried.
    â€œWe’ve got to stop her!” Wendy yelled.
    The girls scrambled to their feet. Wendy yanked the door open and rushed inside. She had to save Shalimar!
    â€œYou let go of him!” she shouted at Mrs. Bast.
    â€œShalimar!” Tina called.
    Mrs. Bast glanced up from the table. Her eyes were wide with surprise. Then they narrowed. She raised a long bony finger and pointed straight at Wendy.
    â€œYou!” Mrs. Bast growled.

16

    â€œY ou!” Mrs. Bast repeated. “It’s you!”
    â€œMrs. Bast,” Wendy began. But she didn’t know what to say.
    Shalimar howled even louder. He struggled in Mrs. Bast’s grip, twisting his body in an effort to escape.
    Mrs. Bast’s eyes returned to the cat. “Stop that,” she ordered.
    The cat broke free. It leaped from the table, scattering bottles and jars. Wendy’s hands reached out to keep the bottles from smashing to the ground.
    â€œShalimar!” Tina cried. “No!” Tina and Mrs. Bast grabbed for the cat at the same time. It ducked out of reach, then bounded to the top of a tall bookcase.
    Wendy glanced up. The cat gazed down at them, then began to wash its face.
    â€œWendy!” Tina exclaimed. “It’s not Shalimar. Look—it has one brown eye.