“Be careful,” I called after him and he gave me a thumbs up before he set off up the road toward home. Within minutes the darkness had swallowed him up.

Roland reached over and flicked on the hazard lights just in case anyone happened along. I leaned back and we sat quietly listening to the rain drumming on the hood and roof.

Roland roused me from my doze. “It’s been half an hour. Pete should have called or been back by now.” He picked up his cell phone and hit a number and Peter’s phone vibrated on the dashboard. Roland swore.

“Maybe he got held up. Let’s give him a few more minutes.” Two weeks ago I might have been worried but that was before I discovered what Peter was. I doubted there was anything out here that could harm a werewolf.

Five more minutes passed before Roland open his door and bellowed Peter’s name several times. We both got out of the truck and stood in the rain, which had lessened to a heavy drizzle. “Peter?” I called as loud as I could.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Roland said in a hushed voice. He held up a hand. “I think I hear something.”

I listened hard but all I heard was water dripping from the trees. Roland’s werewolf hearing was a lot better than mine so I waited for him to say something.

“There, down that way,” he said, pointing the way Peter had gone. “Pete?” he called running up the road with me close on his heels. The cold rain flattened my hair against my head and drenched my light coat but all I could think of was finding Peter. Then I heard it – faint but unmistakable; Peter’s voice calling from somewhere up ahead. “Help.”

“Roland, I hear him,” I cried. “Peter, where are you?” I shouted.

“Help!” Peter called again, closer this time, somewhere in the woods to the right of the road. What the hell was he doing out there? I plunged into the trees, too wet now to care about the cold droplets showering me from the branches overhead.

Beneath the tree canopy it was almost pitch black so I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and opened it to give me a little light. It wasn’t much but it allowed me to see a foot or so ahead of me.

“Peter, where are you?” I called again and when he answered it sounded like he was no more than a dozen yards ahead of me.

“Sara, wait!” Roland shouted frantically from behind me. ‘That’s not – fuck!” he swore as he tripped and crashed through the trees. “Sara, stop!”

But I was almost there. Plunging forward, I broke through the trees into a wide clearing. I strained my eyes until I could barely make out the dark shape crumpled on the ground. “Peter!” I cried, starting toward him.

A strong hand grabbed my wrist and jerked me backwards. “What the hell, Roland!” I cried angrily. “What are you doing? Peter is hurt.”

“That’s not Pete,” he whispered urgently as he started pulling me back the way we had come. It took me a full five seconds to realize what he had said and to recognize the fear in his voice.

“Of – of course it’s him,” I stammered, trying to pull away from Roland. “I heard him.”

“I did too,” he said hoarsely. “But it’s not –”

I heard movement behind me and I looked over my shoulder to see the figure unfurling from the ground. It rose up on four legs, large and dark and in no way resembling a teenage boy. I couldn’t make out the creature’s features but I thought I saw two glowing eyes – predator’s eyes – and coarse fur covering its body. My breath caught. Nothing prepared me for the horror that lanced through me when the creature opened its mouth. “Help me. Please help me,” it said in Peter’s voice, followed by a spine-chilling cackle that set my hair on end.

“What is…?” The words died on my lips as the woods at the other end of the clearing moved and a second shape emerged. I stood on frozen legs and watched in fascinated terror as the second creature faced us for several seconds, then said, “Peter, where are you?” in an eerily perfect imitation of my voice.

In the next instant, I found myself over Roland’s shoulder, fending off the branches that slapped at me as he tore through the woods. “What was that?” I wanted to shout, but the only sound I could make was an occasional “Oof” as I banged against his hard shoulder. Peter, oh God, Peter! That thing knew his voice.

I could almost taste the fear rolling off Roland as he pounded toward the road in long strides. It filled my nostrils and buzzed through my head like a live wire as a new terrifying thought struck me. What the hell frightens a werewolf?

Behind us a high pitched giggle pierced the air, followed by a second. From off to one side came an answering giggle and farther away, a fourth one, moving closer. Four of them!

Moving in.

Hunting us.

We reached the edge of the trees and Roland practically threw me out onto the road. “Run, Sara! Get to the truck.” he yelled at me as I stumbled from my landing.

“What about you?”

“I’m going to shift. I need you to get to the truck.”

Branches snapped close by like a gunshot and spurred me into a run. I heard fabric ripping and an awful stretching, crushing sound then a savage howl that almost stopped my heart. It’s just Roland, I told myself as I skidded on the wet road toward the headlights that shone like a beacon a few hundred yards away.

The growling became a roar as two large bodies slammed together viciously, rolling over and over snarling and barking in the underbrush. Roland! I agonized, powerless to do anything but run. He was outnumbered four to one and I had no idea what was out there or how strong the creatures were. Please be okay, I begged as I swiped wildly at the tangle of wet hair obscuring my vision.