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wider.
    He crouched into a karate stance, and
his beautiful muscles flexed in readiness for battle. The bigger werewolf went
into a clunkier crouch. Valerie, half-morphed now,
knew very little karate and felt totally out of her element. She backed out of
the way to give them room to whirl, kick, and thrust while watching for a
window of opportunity to help. Her alpha werewolf moved smoothly and
effectively while looking cool and collected. She struggled to find her own
calm place, but failed. The shadows over the moon darkened and added to her
near panicky state of mind. She breathed in and out, trying to fight the
anxious emotions swamping her. I have the
responsibility to appear invincible and intimidating.
    She inhaled a familiar scent approaching,
closing in. Out of nowhere, Uncle Hugh in all his wolfish glory landed on top
of the bigger werewolf and knocked him down. Then he and her alpha wolf circled
the downed werewolf, growling with incisors bared. She closed in as well, mimicking
their actions.
    The downed werewolf leapt to his
feet and raked his gaze over them. Apparently, finding himself surrounded and
out-numbered, he fixed his piercing gaze on her, the weakest link. He leapt and
knocked her down. She dodged and rolled out of his reach. For an instant, he
glared at her with blood in his eyes, chilling her bones, and then ran into the
night.
    To her surprise, her parents appeared toting shotguns.
Dad lifted the barrel, took aim, and fired. The retreating wolf yelped and ran
on deep into the hills. Then her dad turned and aimed at her alpha protector. She
wanted to scream. “No, Dad, don’t!” But all that came out was a high-pitched
growl. I can’t let him shoot! She
jumped her dad and knocked the gun upward. The shot went wild.
    “What the hell?” Dad shouted.
    “Run,” she yelled at her alpha wolf. This time her
voice almost sounded human. Brian ran into the night and disappeared.
    Dear God what
if the killer werewolf is waiting just ahead for him. Did I save him from one danger
only to send him charging into another—perhaps into the clutches of the
throat-ripping monster and sure death?
    ****
    Reeves, the commander of Rory’s
body, waited in the darkness of the cave licking his wounds. He needed a doctor
for the bullet wound. He knew one who, for the right price, would treat him and
forget it. He gathered the moon poppies growing just outside the cave and
jammed them into his mouth. He ate only enough to maintain control of his thinking and keep his savage bloodlust under control. In the midst of his moon-heat, he stayed in the shadows as he headed for the
doc’s residence. He felt physically powerful yet he’d permitted those lesser
werewolves to chase him away. He hated to admit that the younger werewolf was
his equal in the fight. The skinny half-animal was skilled, well-trained, and
moved as swiftly as a rattler. But the lightweight alpha couldn’t have run him
off alone. It had taken the whole family.   Reeves became one with the shadows, vowing
that next time he wouldn’t take the chance of failure. When he cornered Valerie
she would be alone. Totally alone.
    ****
    Valerie’s parents said very little
to her on the way home. No lectures, no reprisals for knocking Dad down. Probably
because they figured until she was totally morphed she might take off into the
night and follow the young werewolf.
    Valerie suspected that Uncle Hugh
knew the young alpha was Brian. He’d followed them. It wouldn’t be much of a
jump to add two and two, especially after the way he saw them going at it in
the pool. Why else would he have worked in concert with the alpha to run off
the killer werewolf?
    The next morning under the glare of
the bright sun coming in the dining room window and over a strangely silent
breakfast with her parents and uncle, Dad finally turned to her, his eyes soft
and sad. “Don’t you get it, Valerie? You were lucky last night. We’re dealing
with an inhuman, indestructible