The shape moved. Or, rather, lifted its head. Blue eyes glowed from inside a hood.
A gray hoodie. One she’d seen before. Red bangs flopping over a wide forehead.
Recognition slammed into her. The man in the street in Elder Lake. She’d made eye contact with him outside the Ruperts’ cafe.
They made eye contact again now, and her heart froze in her chest.
Madness.
His eyes burned wolf blue, but there was no humanity behind them. His face and jaw were stained red.
At his feet, another shape sprawled, arms and legs flung in unnatural directions.
She knew that shape, too. Joel’s body glistened red in the moonlight.
A snarl reached her, and she jerked her gaze up.
The man bared human teeth. He started toward her.
“HALEY!” Her name echoed off the trees, and footsteps crashed, the sound coming from the path she’d just taken.
The man stopped.
“Haley?”
She couldn’t turn around. She couldn’t take her eyes off the redhead. Not if she wanted to live.
“Haley, where are you?” Twigs snapped, and the footsteps grew closer.
Ben. Hope surged inside her. A Stalwart was just what she needed. She opened her jaws, showing the man in the hoodie her fangs.
He twitched, his whole body jerking. His gaze darted from side to side, as if he sensed a threat but wasn’t sure where to look.
Even in her predicament, irritation nipped at her. Why couldn’t someone see her as a threat for once? She cranked her jaw wider.
Hello? Big, scary werewolf here.
He spun and ran, his gray hood bouncing against his back.
Satisfaction flared in her mind.
“Haley!”
She turned as Ben emerged from the trees, his face plastered with worry. His coat flapped open, and his pant legs were haphazardly stuffed in the tops of his boots. “Are you all right—” His gaze went from her to the clearing, and his nostrils flared. “Jesus . . .”
The satisfaction she felt evaporated. She shot past Ben and ran to the clearing. Joel lay on his back, one leg bent at an odd angle, his head turned to one side. As she neared him, the ground squished under her paws.
Blood. A lot of it.
Ben appeared on Joel’s other side, his mouth a grim line. He went to his knees and put a hand on the other man’s neck. “He’s alive. Barely.”
Haley glanced down Joel’s body. Where was all the blood coming from? Belly wounds bled like crazy, but Joel’s clothing was intact, his shirt unstained.
Ben straightened Joel’s head, exposing the opposite side of his neck. He recoiled, his face draining of color.
Joel’s neck was a ragged mess, muscle and tendons on display. A large chunk of flesh dangled by a piece of skin, revealing purple veins and glimpses of bone. The meat wobbled as he drew a shallow breath.
Ben ripped off his coat, balled it up, and pressed it against the wound. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”