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

Shal’s eyes are both blue.”
    Wendy peered at the cat. Tina was right. The cat looked exactly like Shal except for its eyes.
    â€œLook what you’ve done,” Mrs. Bast scolded. “Look at this mess.” She began to pick up the bottles and jars that had fallen. Wendy tried to help, but Mrs. Bast stopped her. “Haven’t you done enough already?” she scolded. “I know who you are. You’re the girl who stole the werecat charm.”
    Wendy’s face flushed with embarrassment. Mrs. Bast was right to be angry with her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I did pay for it. I didn’t really steal it.”
    â€œHmmmph,” Mrs. Bast grunted.
    â€œAnd I’m here to return it,” Wendy continued. Now, finally, she’d be able to get rid of the necklace. “But I can’t get the clasp open.”
    Mrs. Bast gazed at Wendy for a long moment. Wendy wondered what the old woman was thinking.
    Mrs. Bast shook her head. “Sorry. But you’ll never get that charm off. Never.”

17

    W endy stared at Mrs. Bast, horrified. “Did you say—did you say I’ll never get this charm off?” she repeated. Her voice shook.
    â€œThat’s right,” Mrs. Bast said firmly. “It will never open.” She paused, then leaned very close to Wendy. “Unless you find the secret clasp.”
    Wendy blinked. “The secret . . .” Wendy wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.
    â€œIt’s very cleverly hidden,” Mrs. Bast explained. “Come over to the mirror. I’ll show you.”
    Dazed, Wendy followed the old woman to a large dusty mirror hanging on the wall. She stood silently as Mrs. Bast pulled the clasp to the front. “Now, you see this?” Mrs. Bast asked. Wendy nodded. “It looks like a regular clasp. It looks like all you have to do isunhook it. But . . .” Mrs. Bast’s eyes twinkled. “Instead you have to turn it clockwise, then pull it through the cat charm. Like this.”
    With nimble fingers Mrs. Bast released the catch. The necklace opened. Wendy was free!
    â€œNo wonder we couldn’t get it off,” Tina said.
    A wave of relief swept over Wendy. It was over. The charm was off. She would never be a werecat again!
    â€œOh, Mrs. Bast, thank you! Thank you so much!” she cried.
    â€œYou shouldn’t have taken the necklace,” Mrs. Bast said sternly.
    â€œI know.” Wendy hung her head, ashamed. “I know I should never have done it. But I wanted it so badly. It was as if I couldn’t help myself.”
    Mrs. Bast nodded. “I feel the same way about the charm. I never meant to sell it. It’s from my personal collection. I don’t even know how it wound up in the five-dollar tray.”
    â€œPlease, take it back!” Wendy said. “And keep the five dollars, too.”
    Mrs. Bast smiled, then slipped the charm into her pocket. Wendy wondered if the old woman knew about the power the charm had. Well, she figured, if Mrs. Bast really is a witch, maybe she doesn’t mind turning into a werecat every night.
    Three nights had been enough for Wendy!
    â€œNow, explain yourselves,” Mrs. Bast demanded. “Why were you two girls following me?”
    â€œWe thought you had my cat, Shalimar,” Tina explained. “We saw you pick him up in the alley.”
    â€œOr we thought we did,” Wendy added.
    â€œDon’t you know all Siamese cats resemble one another?” Mrs. Bast said. She glanced up at the cat still perched on top of the bookcase. “Meet Magnolia,” she told the girls, waving at the cat. “One of my regular clients.”
    â€œOne of your . . . whats?” Wendy asked. What was Mrs. Bast talking about?
    â€œClients,” Mrs. Bast repeated. “I’m a cat groomer. Didn’t you know?”
    â€œHow would we know?” Tina asked.
    â€œI just assumed