The werewolf lunged at Eve and Jon, jaws open in a display of pink gums and long teeth. Eve stood still and gripped the rock tightly enough that her hand stopped shaking. Jon stepped forward and brought his arm up in front of his chest.

And the wolf smacked straight into an invisible wall and bounced off, yelping. It shook its head and stared at Eve.

Jon straightened up, scooting closer to Eve. “What did you do?” he asked.

Eve shook her head, releasing her grip and letting a stream of sand fall from her shaking fingers. She looked down at her hand and the few grains of sand that clung to her skin. She had liked that rock.

A snarl brought her attention back to the werewolf. “I declare this place a haven for cats of all kinds, where they can be safe from anything that wants to hurt them.” She glared back at the wolf, who was pacing around their tiny refuge. If she took more than a step away from Jon, she’d be at the edge of the circle.

“You really are a witch,” Jon said, with a gratifying amount of awe in his voice. Eve ignored him. She was too busy Not Panicking and figuring out what to do now to think about something so stupid. “What do we do now?” Jon asked, echoing her thoughts.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t plan this.”

“We could stay here until morning?”

“We could try—“ Eve said, and another growling came from the darkness, less wolfish and more…cat-like? Eve paused and tried to see in the dark.

Into the light of Jon’s headlamp, a huge, black, cat-shaped form leaped at the wolf, who was about as caught off guard as Eve was. She squeaked and clutched at Jon, who also clutched at her.

“What is that?” he asked. “It’s not a bobcat.”

The cat wrestled with the wolf, accompanied by discordant snarling and yowling. They bit and clawed at each other, writhing around on the forest floor. Eve could see frustratingly little of the fight despite Jon whipping his head back and forth to keep the light trained on them.

As the cat managed to pin the wolf for a second, Eve got a good look at it. It had a splotch of white on its chest. Large black cat, white patch on its chest, appearing out of nowhere like magic. Her eyes widened.

“Cat-sith,” she breathed. “What the fuck, that’s the fucking cat-sith,” she said.

“And that’s Ezra,” Jon said. He pointed at the wolf as it rolled around on the ground with the cat, and Eve saw what he saw: the bright blue hair tie Ezra had borrowed from Eve earlier. It had been holding the top half of his floppy hair back the last time they’d seen him, but now it was stretched thin around the wolf’s front right ankle.

The cat was the better fighter, and it made its way to the top, pressing Ezra-the-wolf into the ground with claws so sharp and long, Eve wondered how he wasn’t already bleeding. It dove in with teeth bared, biting down on Ezra’s neck.

“Your highness!” Eve shouted. The cat froze, Ezra-the-wolf was already frozen and trying not to get his throat ripped out, Jon froze in confusion. Eve barely knew what she was doing when she shouted again, “Please stop!” The cat opened its mouth and pulled back, keeping both of its front paws on Ezra’s torso. It breathed heavily and looked up at Eve. “Thank you for coming to our aid, but please don’t kill the wolf. I know him.”

The cat’s eyes glowed bright green in the headlamp’s light. After a long, assessing moment, it stepped off of Ezra-the-wolf, who scrambled up into a crouch. The cat kept him from moving too much with a warning swipe of its claws.

“As you wish, lass,” it said, sounding exactly like a cat with a Scottish accent, with the rumbly undertones of a purr. It winked at her and disappeared back into darkness.

Eve and Jon looked at each other and then down at the subdued wolf crouching in front of them. He snarled at them but didn’t move, perhaps afraid that if he did the cat-sith would come back.

Eve straightened up and scowled down at Ezra. He watched her warily and blinked when she shook a finger at him like an old-timey teacher. “What do you think you’re doing, chasing us like that?” she said. His ears flattened against his head, and he whined. “This is stupid. We know it’s you in there.” She had to say his name or scold him, right? Eve crossed her arms and looked down at him, channeling her most withering glare. “Change back right now, Ezra!”

She….did not expect it to work, but then she hadn’t expected the werewolf thing to be—hoped it wasn’t—real. So when the cowering werewolf in front of her started to shift and writhe in Jon’s headlamp beam, there was a certain amount of shock involved. It didn’t help that Ezra whimpered the whole time he was shifting, as his fur fell off and his bones and joints cracked and his limbs stretched back to their normal proportions. Eve squeezed her hands into fists as she watched.

After a long few minutes, Ezra crouched before them, naked and sweating. His chest heaved, and he shivered. There was a look on his face, a sort of awful, guilty fear.

“Do you guys have any clothes I could wear?” he asked.

***

Back at the tent, Ezra huddled by the fire in some of Jon’s pajama pants and a white t-shirt, with Jon’s leather jacket on his lap. Eve knelt next to him, wiping at the numerous scratches and bite marks that littered his neck, face, and arms with damp, wadded-up toilet paper. None of them looked too serious, but who knew what a fairy cat got its claws into?

“Are you up to date on your vaccinations?” she asked. “Tetanus? Rabies?”

“Yes,” Ezra said, his voice barely there.

Eve leaned around him and called to Jon in the tent, “Do you have another bottle of water? This one’s almost out.”

Jon ducked his head through and passed her a half-full bottle. He looked at Ezra for a second and then ducked back inside. He returned with a tube of something and a box of adhesive bandages. Eve started applying the antiseptic to the worst wounds, though Ezra pulled away a little when she came at him with the bandages.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You don’t have to worry so much, I heal quickly,” he said. “I’ll be fine by morning.” He was slightly louder this time, so Eve didn’t have to lip-read to understand him.

She looked at him and sat back on her heels. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked. “Anywhere more severely? Are you having trouble breathing or moving at all?” Ezra shook his head at each question. He seemed all there mentally, if a little quiet, so probably no head injuries. Which was good because Eve had no idea how to deal with that. “Good.”

Ezra swallowed and looked at her mournfully. He looked like he was convinced that she would yell at him again any second. “Thank you,” he said. “I really am fine. Are you two okay?”

Eve sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. “We’re good,” she said. “Despite how fucking stupid our plan was, we’re good.”

Jon sat on Ezra’s other side. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked. “You seem exhausted.”

“It takes a lot of energy,” Ezra said after clearing his throat. “But I’ll be fine.”

Eve looked at him for a long second, and then she shook her head. “Dumbass,” she said. “You should have told us.”

Jon frowned at her. “Be nice,” he said, “he’s gone through a lot tonight.”

“He’s gone through a lot?” Eve hissed. “We were trapped in the pitch-black woods by a werewolf literally minutes ago!” Jon didn’t say anything, but he did keep frowning. Ezra winced and ducked his head. “If he had just told us that he was a werewolf we could have avoided this whole thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said, looking up at her. “I couldn’t tell you, though!” Eve looked at him with the intent to scathe, and he bit his lip, properly scathed. “Only Chelsea knew, and she found out on her own. I never wanted to endanger anyone, which was why I hid out in Blackwood. There was no way I was going to be able to tell you, not when we just became friends.”

“Idiot,” Eve said, poking him gently in the arm and allowing a small amount of fondness to creep into her tone. Ezra looked hopefully at her, and Eve continued. “I already knew you were a weirdo when I agreed to be your friend, so there’s no sense backing out now.” Ezra was able to smile very slightly, so Eve sniffed and looked away from his face. There was a scar on his upper arm and shoulder, a nasty, jagged line that nearly reached his neck. “Is that where you were bitten?” she asked.

Ezra nodded. “Just before I would have graduated,” he said.

The three of them were quiet for a few minutes, listening to the dying fire and the chirp of insects. Eve finished cleaning Ezra’s wounds, and then she sat back and took a deep breath.

“We should finish talking about this in the morning,” she said. “At WaffleHenge, because I can already tell I’m going to be starving. For now, I’m kinda…not into the idea of camping anymore. Ez, do you want to come with me or stay here? You can use my sleeping bag if you want.”

Ezra sniffed and looked at Jon. “Do you mind? Since I’m in this…node…I don’t think I’d even be able to turn back.”

Jon smiled at him. “Not at all,” he said. “If you’re hungry, there are some leftovers from dinner I can cook for you.”

“Thanks, but I just want to sleep.” Ezra paused and looked down at himself. “Oh, should I…do you want your clothes back, Jon?”

Eve snorted. “Yeah, dude, you’re gonna have to sleep in my sleeping bag butt-ass naked.” Ezra made a distraught face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon said, smiling. “You can give them back to me later. If you’re okay staying here on your own for a bit, I’ll walk Eve back to her car.”

Eve shook her head. “I can feel the ley line well enough to follow it back to the parking lot. Stay with Ezra. I’ll pick you two up in the morning.”

Jon looked between the two of them, torn. After a moment, he nodded. “At least take my headlamp.” He held it out to her, and Eve pulled the elastic band over her forehead.

“Be honest, how fucking dumb do I look right now?” she said.

Jon looked at her, one hand cupping his chin as he narrowed his eyes. “No more than usual, I’d say.” Ezra’s eyes widened and he glanced between the two of them, his hands clasped together around his knees.

Eve paused, turned to squint at him, and then laughed. Jon’s smile returned full force, and Ezra relaxed, cracking a small smile as Jon laughed, too.

***

The walk to the parking lot was longer this time around, with Eve picking her way through the forest until she reached the groomed trail. Nearly an hour later, at too-fucking-late-o’-clock, Eve sagged into her driver’s seat and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. She took a deep breath, and when she blew it out, it was shakier than she’d ever admit.

That had been too close. She’d felt Ezra-the-wolf’s hot breath as he’d lunged. She’d been inches away from lycanthropy, which apparently fucking existed for real. There was something about narrowly avoiding a deadly confrontation that kind of sucked the wind out of her. And she didn’t even want to think about anything involving fairies, shrines, or witches. As she started the car, she licked her lips and pushed it all to the back of her mind. These were thoughts she could have in the morning, with caffeine and pancakes to ease the way.

It was after 3 AM by the time she parked behind Pearson’s, and Eve was eager to not be awake anymore. As soon as she opened the door, she wished she’d stayed with the guys. The living room was chaos. Chelsea tossed around pillows, cat toys, Eve’s pens and pencils. Anything she could get her hands on, she was throwing through the apartment. Eve suddenly couldn’t stand it.

“Chelsea!” she shouted. “Use your fucking words! Stop throwing shit around! I’ve had a very long night, and all I want to do is go to sleep, not clean up after your ghost tantrums!”

The lights flickered, the temperature dropping suddenly enough to prick up Eve’s skin in goosebumps. A chill like barely-there fingers traced down her back. Harvey appeared and sat by her feet, facing outward. Something about him felt comforting. Safe. His warmth against her bare feet felt so alive in the freezing cold. For the first time in Eve’s time with Chelsea fear grabbed her heart tight and squeezed. There was a pressure in the room that seemed to suck all of the air out of her lungs.

“H e k i l l e d m e,” rasped a ghostly whisper that curled around Eve like smoke, like Harvey twining around her legs, like the fog in the henge. “I t h u r t s,” it said. It sounded small and desperate and sad, so sad that Eve’s eyes filled with tears, and she wanted to comfort it, but there was no air in her lungs. Cold, weightless hands touched hers softly, burning pain spreading from the contact. Harvey meowed, and the touch went away.

Eve sucked in a breath, and the voice took it from her, spinning it into more whispers. “Helpmehelpmehelpmeiwanttogohome,” it said, words strung together like there was only a small amount of breath to push them out. The room was dark, lights dimmed to almost nothing and shadows stretching where they shouldn’t. Eve tried to breathe again, but the voice stole it straight from her lungs. “Makehimpayhebetrayedmeithurtsithurtsithurts.” Eve’s vision started to narrow, the room around her distant and fuzzy. She gasped, desperate to get air and unable to move. The voice snatched it out of her mouth and cried “Ithoughthelovedme.”

A furry weight rammed into her legs and pushed her backward. She fell to the floor, sucking in a breath that stuck this time, and Harvey climbed into her lap. He stood with his back to her and hissed into the air. The lights flickered again, back to their normal strength, and the pressure and the cold and the whispers disappeared as if they’d never happened. Harvey hissed again for good measure, and then he turned around and sniffed Eve’s mouth. She took another shuddering breath and he purred, rubbing his face on hers. He stood on his back legs, front paws on her chest, claws digging into her sweatshirt. He looked at her, orange eyes surprisingly direct. He kept staring at her until she was breathing normally again, and even then he settled into her lap and refused to move.

But that was fine because Eve had no desire to move anytime soon. She sat, legs outstretched, and stroked Harvey. She stared at the wall and took breath after breath, feeling her chest rise and fall. When she thought she could stand again without collapsing, she did, clutching Harvey to her chest. She brought him to her bed with her, and when she laid down, he climbed up to her pillow, curling around her head to sleep.