Numerous devices nearby emitted electronic frequencies, which June assumed to be trail cameras. She approximated their positions and determined that approaching the backyard at an angle should be the safest.

“There are cameras ahead. Let’s walk up slowly—probably easier if you stay on my back for now, I can be a lot quieter than you.”

“June! What looks worse on a camera? Kids with masks on, or a giant werecat giving a kid a piggy-back ride?”

She laughed. “To be a piggyback ride, I’d have to be holding your legs. And who says the cameras will see anything?”

“Come on, June," Brendan said. "This debate again?”

“I get the point, but it was my Shifting that saved you at the school.”

“True, but you can always Shift if we get in trouble. If you start out right away as a werecat, then, well…the cat’s out of the bag, isn’t it?” He grinned proudly at her. She turned to hide her smirk, but he said, “I saw that. One day you’ll just admit you love my jokes.”

“Fine,” she said, the smirk still stuck to her face. “I’ll Shift back if you promise not to make another cat joke tonight.”

After she got dressed, they crept toward Quarry Road, the street on which Dr. Crushov lived. Despite its name, Quarry Road looked nothing like a quarry or a normal road. Rather, it was the richest street in Seven Falls, dotted with an occasional Spanish-looking villa, soaring colonial, or country French estate, each one sitting on several acres of heavily wooded land abutting the forest. And wooded land was a very convenient thing for June.

Brendan pulled out the yoga-pant masks as they walked and handed June hers. With minimal gagging, they slipped them on.

The darkness of night had fully fallen now, and the moon had just risen above the horizon in the east. Its light occasionally pierced through the net of tree branches overhead and reached the forest floor. And those moonlit patches provided the only reprieve from Brendan tripping, bumping into trees, or whimpering as branches raked his face. June ended up grabbing his hand to guide him, and then he got unusually quiet. But the dark was good for June; she could still see in it, and it was her comfort and her cover. She felt powerful in the dark.

Their path took them right up to a six-foot concrete wall, which June estimated meant they had reached Dr. Crushov’s backyard.

“What exactly are we going to do once we’re in the house? What’s the plan?” Brendan whispered.

“The plan?” June asked. Then she listened to the night. “No one is in the backyard. The plan is to find a way into the house, and once we’re in we explore and use the Geiger counter to find the vial. Hopefully we find Mr. Moseley first.”

“But what if we do find it? What happens to Dr. Crushov?” Brendan asked.

She still hadn’t figured that out yet. In the car that morning, on the way to the lab, she’d been confident that she would kill anyone involved in taking Mr. Moseley. But it was a whole lot easier to say that about someone faceless and evil. She knew Dr. Crushov, and she didn’t mind him—he was certainly no Dr. Chase. The thought of having to kill Dr. Crushov made something bitter rise in the back of her throat. Maybe she could take him to Cordelia to deal with—yes, that seemed the best way to do it.

“I’ll knock him out, we tie him up, and I carry him back to my house—he’ll be Cordelia's problem.”

Brendan thought about this and then nodded approvingly.

A cool breeze swept through the cottonwood trees around them and gently stirred her hair. Crickets chirped in waves. A low buzz warned mosquitos were near; the cold fall weather hadn't killed them off yet. June’s stomach rumbled, ever so slightly. She tried to ignore it. Brendan leaned his head to the side and studied her, but he said nothing. Surely he couldn’t hear that, June thought. A part of her said I should eat now, and then the way Brendan had looked at her at dinner burned itself into her vision, and she shook away the voice and the image. I should ration them anyway, she thought. I’m not embarrassed or anything. And I don’t care if I gain weight. We just don’t have an endless supply of hot dogs.

Brendan broke the silence. “If Dr. Crushov is a demon, are you sure you can just knock him out? What if he’s really big and powerful, like he’s been eating at a people buffet?” His eyes widened. “Is that what happened to the people who disappeared?” And, realizing what he’d just said, his mouth worked back and forth under the yoga-pant mask (he was chewing his lip). He asked again, “Are you sure?”

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June eyed the concrete wall and walked up to it. She was really big and powerful too, much larger than a normal Shifter. If Dr. Crushov was a demon, he would have needed to eat a lot of people, for a long time, to rival her size, speed, and strength. At least she hoped so. “Yes,” she said. “I'm sure.” She jumped and easily caught the top and scrambled up like a squirrel. She tilted her head sideways and listened, wishing her normal ears could rotate too.

“Come on up,” she called down to Brendan. “I don’t see any cameras back here, just mosquito zappers.”

Despite being able to nearly reach the top of the wall just raising his arms, Brendan floundered in trying to grasp it. When he did finally grab hold, his attempt to pull himself up went even worse. He gave an embarrassed shrug. “I don’t have super shifty powers, so how are we both going to get over this wall? Maybe I can ride on your back?”

June hopped down and landed easily. She didn’t want to think about how she’d have looked trying to climb this wall a week ago. “Ride my back? Someone made me Shift back to normal so people wouldn’t see a kid riding on the back of a werecat—ugh, I can’t believe I’m using that word now too.”

Brendan laughed and his face brightened. “It’s a good word, don’t fight it, June.”

She made a basket with her hands. “Here, step in and I’ll boost you up. Then I’ll jump up.”

Brendan still struggled to pull himself all the way up to the top, and June considered whether or not to jump and surprise him with a push from below. While extremely tempting, she decided against it so he wouldn’t scream as he fell over the other side. She waited patiently and kicked around the dirt at her feet, pretending not to notice how long it was taking. A blue moth fluttered past her knees, riding the light breeze.

Once Brendan had finally gotten to a sitting position, June quickly joined him on the wall, then dropped to the other side. Brendan remained at the top with his legs hanging, looking nervously at the six-foot drop back down. His mouth worked back and forth under the mask.

“Just jump and I’ll catch you,” June said quietly.

He eyed the drop again.

“I’ve run all over town with you on my back. I think I can handle catching you here.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t a werecat right now.” He took a deep breath. “Here goes…” And down he went into June’s waiting arms. She caught him easily and straightened him up. Brendan smiled so wide under the mask she feared it might split open.

“You know you’ve been so much higher than that wall when you’re on my back, right?” she whispered.

“Yeah, but that’s different. And my eyes are usually closed because of the air.”

They wound between a few manicured clusters of rhododendrons and small crepe myrtle trees and hunched down behind an elaborate pirate-ship playset, sailing on a sea of woodchips that softly crunched under their feet. The play set surprised her; she had never thought about Dr. Crushov having a family. There weren’t any pictures of family in his office. Did demons have families?

Brendan looked up at the house and whistled softly. “This Dr. Crushov, you said he studies robotics?”

“Yep.”

“Then why does he live in a mansion?”

“He probably sold a lot of inventions and patents. Cordelia has a whole system for selling things that her scientists invent and they get a lot of the money from it.”

“Maybe,” Brendan said. “Or maybe he’s a criminal mastermind. What was he doing installing a new security system if he’s a scientist?”

June studied the house, which was all sharp edges and square windows and stucco. And it was big, so big it was unrealistic, like a house that only existed on TV. June noted only two doors on the back of the house that looked suitable for breaking in. “I don’t know. He came to Cordelia and said the old system wasn’t any good, and he offered to install a new one. Cordelia let him because he’s great with technology in general. Then, a week later, the robbery.”

Deciding on a door to the left, without any lights showing inside, as the best option for entry, June darted toward a picnic bench beneath a pergola, then crouched behind it.

Brendan followed behind her. “Why wouldn’t he wait a little longer for the robbery if he did it? To have it occur so close to when he installed the new system—he had to know it would make him a prime suspect. The timing seems pretty dumb.”

June nodded. “He doesn’t strike me as stupid, or sloppy for that matter. His office and lab space are super organized. But maybe he had reasons for rushing it and couldn’t wait.”

“Maybe he knew about you,” Brendan said. “The break-in did occur just a day after you started Shifting.”

“I doubt it.” An owl hooted in the distance, and all at once thoughts about Cordelia came crashing down. June wished Cordelia was there, with them, in case Dr. Crushov really was a demon. No, she thought, Cordelia created this mess, it’s up to me to fix it. But June did wonder what the police had done with Cordelia when they kicked her door down and found a giant hole in the wall. Surely they couldn’t have arrested her? Regardless, now wasn’t the time to be worrying about it. Somewhere Mr. Moseley was probably tied up and hurt, and midnight was only three or four hours away.

She pointed to the door. “We’re going in there.” And then she ran to it.

Brendan followed on her heels, stumbling once in the grass. June held up a hand and whispered, “I’ll try the door on the count of three. Hopefully it’s unlocked. If not, we’ll have to try every door and window we can reach. Once we’re inside, pull out the Geiger counter and follow me. Make sure it's set to low so it’s not loud.”

Brendan gulped. “How do I do that? You’re the expert on it.”

“You’re smart, you'll figure it out.”

“So you do admit I’m smart,” he said as one side of his mouth twitched under the mask.

Ignoring him, June counted. “One…two—”

Untouched, the door flew open.

“Who are you?” demanded a voice in the darkness.