Hot Blooded

was the
plaster cast she'd taken of that paw print in the woods. Then he
had
been the one who'd stolen it! Carefully, she took the book out and opened it,
seeing pages upon pages of handwritten lines. Each page was dated. It was a
journal.
    Frowning, she flipped pages, reading a few lines here and there. Her own name
jumped out at her, catching her eye. "Jennifer Rose is the best I've ever seen,
the best I've ever worked with. But I must never let her believe I support her
theories. In fact I need to prove them wrong, discredit her, even while I use
her to lead me to what I need."
    She blinked. Good God, he'd practically gushed about her skill in her field.
To her face he'd never done anything but criticize, belittle and condemn her
work. It was foolish, not a real science, fraudulent even.
    She nipped more pages.
    "I knew she would find it! Here, at last, I have the full ritual."
    Below those words, she saw an outline, like a recipe, titled, "Becoming a
Werewolf."
    What the hell?
    She read on, recognizing some of the portions from research she'd gleaned,
other bits Carrie had ferreted out from various sources; still others were
entirely new to her. She skimmed the lines. Third night of the full moon—that
was tonight. There was a list of herbs, each one with a checkmark beside it. She
knew the rite required a fire, but this list gave the precise instructions for
the type of wood to burn, and the kinds of leaves to use to kindle the fire. It
gave astrological requirements as well—moon in Scorpio, conjuct to Saturn.
Beneath those, today's date was jotted down.
    And near the bottom of the list of items needed, was one that made her blood
run cold.
    The pelt of a werewolf.
    Oh my God.
    She slammed the book closed and taking it with her, turned and raced out the
door and down the hall to the stairs. Mamma Louisa was right on her heels.
    "What is it, child?"
    "Hinkle—he thinks he can make himself into a werewolf!"
    "But… but the only way he can do that is to be bitten by one, and then he'd
have as good a chance of dying as of changing… unless he's found a spell. But
for that he'd have to—"
    "To kill Samuel, after the change," Jenny said. "He needs the pelt."
    Mamma crossed herself and muttered a prayer as the two women burst into the
living room. Carrie leapt up from the couch where she'd been sitting with Mike
and Toby. "My God, what's happened?"
    Jenny ignored her, going straight to Toby, gripping his shoulder hard. "You
followed me to the kitchen earlier tonight. You eavesdropped on my conversation
with Mamma Louisa." She held up her free hand as he started to deny it. "Don't
even, I don't have time for your lies. Just tell me, did you report what you
heard to Dr. Hinkle?"
    "I didn't—"
    "I swear to God, if you lie to me now I'll get you thrown out of school on
charges so scandalous no other university will have you, even if I have to make
up every one of them. Don't think I can't do it! This is life and death, Toby,
now talk!"
    He stared at her, his eyes widening. "You wouldn't—"
    "You try me."
    Pursing his lips, he swallowed hard. "All right. All right, I listened in. I
told Dr. Hinkle what I heard. That you and Mamma Louisa were to meet someone in
the grove down by the river at eight."
    "He's got a head start," Jenny whispered, releasing him and turning her gaze
to Mamma Louisa's. "God, he'll beat us there, and kill Samuel."
    Carrie gasped. "Dr. Hinkle's going to kill someone?"
    "No,
chère
?" Mamma Louisa said. "He can't kill him, not until after
the moon comes up. Not until after the change. To kill him before that would
serve no purpose."
    Jenny nodded. "Then there's still time." She ran for the door as Carrie and
the twins shouted questions after her. She made it to her car, surprised when
the considerably older, and much heavier woman jumped into the passenger seat
only a split second after her. She was fast.
    Jenny drove, and watched the sun sink below the horizon. Darkness gathered
around them, and she felt as if the entire world were holding its breath, just
waiting for moonrise.
    Â 
    THEY'D exited the car and were making their way through the woods to the
grove, when Jenny heard the gunshot.
    A scream ripped from her throat, and she broke into a run, with Mamma Louisa,
a large drawstring bag over her shoulder, racing to keep up.
    The path twisted and meandered through the thick, dense forest. She could
barely