“To Feed or Not to Feed, That Is the Question”

Jamie stood awkwardly in the nightclub under the flashing lights and sweaty bodies moving to the thumping bass beat of the music blaring from the surround-sound speakers. Some things you just couldn’t talk to family about—not friends either—so he figured maybe it would be best to talk to a stranger. He definitely needed to talk about it. He was generally an introvert and didn’t do a lot of sparking up conversations with strangers, so he tried to think of places where that kind of thing would be normal and acceptable. That led him here. Now he was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking around at the swaying and gyrating sweat-soaked bodies—either trying to get laid or in the process of getting laid—and he wondered if maybe he’d chosen wrong.

Doing his best to nod his head to the music he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to on his own, he strolled up to the one person he saw who wasn’t having sex with anyone and seemed sober enough to comprehend things.

“Do you believe in werewolves?” Jamie asked.

The guy smiled and waved. Jamie stood there a moment and watched the guy go back to dancing with two other guys. Jamie cleared his throat and frowned when he couldn’t even hear himself over the music. He moved in closer and tried to dance, even if badly. He figured these people were too high to care about his skill level. Leaning forward so his mouth was near the man’s ear, he tried again.

“Do you believe in werewolves?”

The guy just shrugged and pointed at his ear. He laughed and started aggressively dancing at Jamie like it was some form of combat. Jamie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t going to try a third time. Giving up on the dance attempt, he waved shyly and walked backward until he bumped into someone behind him. He flinched, expecting them to get angry, but they rubbed a hand on his chest, winked, and danced away. Jamie shivered and went to the nearby bar.

“Can I help you?” the bartender yelled.

“Can I just get an IPA?”

“A whiskey?”

Jamie shook his head. “No, not a whiskey. Is that what you do to get money out of people, because no one can hear in this place?”

“What?” The bartender placed his palms down on the bar and leaned forward to stare into Jamie’s eyes. “You gotta speak up. You want top shelf or house?”

“Screw you,” Jamie said, and he pulled away from the bar, shuffling toward the door.

When he got out to the street, he decided never to visit a nightclub again. So, where were people who could actually hear him, who wouldn’t judge a stranger for trying to chat with them?

He decided to try a regular bar. The problem was that Jamie didn’t know which bars were regular bars. He proved this to himself by going into a sports bar where the football games on the TVs were possibly louder than the music at the nightclub. The reactions to whatever was happening on the screen were definitely louder. People were screaming and yelling—sometimes together, other times at each other. It seemed like violence was only one catch away, so Jamie made his exit once more.

It took two more tries, but he found a pub where people were mingling and there was quiet background music. He almost sighed in relief. Jamie strolled up to the bar and ordered an IPA to sip on so he didn’t seem as weird when he went to talk to people. Thankfully, this bartender could actually hear him and simply asked, “Close it or keep it open?”

“Close it,” he said.

“Six.”

Jamie opened his wallet, counted out seven dollars, and placed them on the bar. Then he took his beer and turned to find someone to spill his guts to. It annoyed him how hard this was, when spilling his guts was what got him here. Once you literally spill your intestines on the forest floor, talking to a stranger should be easy. Floor? Floors are inside, right? It should be the forest ground, but that doesn’t sound as good. That’s annoying. The point is that Jamie’s insides were on the outside, but they’re back inside now—which is exactly why he really needed to talk to someone, inside or outside; he didn’t care.

A guy was standing by himself out back in the smoking section. Jamie hated cigarettes, and he didn’t think vapes were better. In fact, he preferred cigarette smokers because at least they had to take them outside. He sighed and went to the back door, pulling it open.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, stepping out.

“Free country.”

Jamie smiled even though he was internally cursing the guy’s lack of originality. He walked over to stand near the stranger. “Do you believe in werewolves?” he asked, sipping his beer, mostly for effect.

“That’s like an Imagine Dragons song or something, right?” the guy asked before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Jamie stared, dumbfounded, and blinked. “No. No, it’s not.”

“Oh.” The guy shrugged and went back to smoking.

“Oh,” Jamie said back. His instincts screamed at him to rip the guy’s throat out and leave him there to choke on his own blood. It pissed him off even more because he was sure if he said, ‘Do you believe in vampires?’ the guy would have had an immediate answer.

“I mean, like people who turn into giant bipedal wolves and eat other people who don’t.”

The guy laughed. “People who eat people who don’t eat people… that reminds me of that Blur song. Am I right? Girls who like boys who like boys who eat girls.” He laughed again.

Jamie closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s amazing how much I hate you when I’ve only known you for, like, three minutes.”

“Screw you, dude. Why are you even out here? You’re not even smoking.”

“Good point. Bye.” Jamie turned on his heel and headed back into the building.

“Jerk,” the guy said behind him.

When he got back inside the building, a blonde woman looked up from the pool cue she was lining up and said, “Do you normally hang out in the smoking section without smoking anything?”

“Fond childhood memories of secondhand smoke,” he told her.

“You normally care what strangers are doing?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a smile. “You play pool, Secondhand?”

He didn’t like the nickname but recognized that it was his own fault. It reminded Jamie why he didn’t go out and try to meet people.

“That depends on what you mean,” he said with a shrug. “Do I do it—as in, understand the rules and perform the actions? Sure do. Do I do it with any level of skill that might impress anyone else who does it? Hell no.”

The blonde laughed. Her smile was pretty.

“That just means I’ll win. I’m good with that. I bought the table ‘coz I wanted to play, but I don’t actually have anyone to play with. Grab a stick.”

Jamie scrunched his face up and thought for a second. This might be just what he was out here looking for, so he nodded and rounded the table. Grabbing a stick, he said, “I’m Jamie.”

“Colleen. So what brings you out here on a Wednesday night? I don’t really think it was the secondhand smoke. You rack. I’ll break.”

Jamie started putting the pool balls in the rack, though he had no idea if he was doing it correctly.

“I just went through something really bad, and I needed someone to talk to.”

“Well, hello, honesty, thanks for showing up,” Colleen said with a laugh. She lined up her shot as he lifted the rack. “I’m all ears,” she said. Then she smacked the cue ball into the pile, sending balls everywhere. Two went in. “You’re stripes.”

He watched her decide which ball to go for next.

“You ever think you know someone, and then by the time you realize you can’t trust them, they’ve already completely screwed up your life?” he asked while rubbing chalk on the end of his stick.

“You mean, have I dated? I’m twenty-eight. Yes, I know the pain of having an ex.”

Jamie scoffed. He saw she was staring at him and realized it was his turn. He leaned over and hit the cue ball past everything. It ricocheted off the wall and rolled to a stop in the middle of the table.

“It’s more than an ex-situation. I mean, my entire life has been turned upside down.”

Colleen was walking around the table, measuring her shot. “Yeah, I hear you. Like, when Kent convinced all my friends that I was a pillhead—and I wasn’t—so of course, I fought them when they came with accusations. All my relationships I thought would be lifelong dwindled to nothing. Then he convinced me that he just loved me and was scared for me, and was trying to look out for me. Then he moved me across the country, where I was too far to fix anything with anyone. I couldn’t leave him because he was all I had.”

Jamie blinked, wide-eyed, as she made a perfect shot, sank a ball, and moved around the table to shoot and sink another.

“That’s not what I meant, but it definitely fits the description,” he said at last. “I guess mine was something similar—except instead of turning everyone against me, he turned me.”

“Meaning?” she asked, hitting another ball and growling when it missed the pocket.

“Oh, he took me out to the woods and murdered me,” Jamie said, shooting and missing drastically.

Colleen put her palms on the table’s edge and stared at him. “Dude, are you trying to convince me that you’re a ghost? Because that would explain why it seems like your ball actually goes through the other balls instead of hitting them.”

Jamie laughed and shook his head. “Nah, that’s just a complete lack of skill. I’m alive now, at least for the moment.”

“You’re weird, Secondhand.” She laughed and took a shot. “Damn,” she said, throwing her stick down on the table. “I sank the eight ball. You win.”

“Sweet,” Jamie said with a smirk and a fist pump. “You want a rematch?”

“Yeah, alright. What are you drinking? You won, so I’ll buy.”

Jamie chewed on his lip for a moment. “Whatever you want,” he said as he went about racking the balls again. When she returned, Colleen handed him a glass of liquor. It smelled strong, and he was glad it had ice cubes in it.

“So, tell me about this near-death experience,” she said as she broke the balls up like an expert with one well-placed shot.

“It was more like a death experience,” he said as he sipped his drink and grimaced. He watched her line up shots, sink balls, and move around the table. “I was in the closet pretty much my whole life. Even when I wasn’t, I was—because I was too afraid to date anyone. Then Jack came along and convinced me to give in to my desires and be my authentic carnal self.”

“Still waiting for the bad part. Your shot.”

“Oh, I forgot I was playing. I thought I was just watching,” Jamie said with a laugh. He took a shot, and they both cheered when the ball actually went in.

“I do better when I have a little alcohol in me,” he said.

“That’s true for a lot of people, actually, because you’re more relaxed then. Anyway, take your next shot and tell me how Jack went bad.”

Jamie took his next shot and saw that his luck had already run out.

“Oh, he literally went bad,” he said. “I mean, not at first. He was romantic and fun, and the sex was great.” She was waving him on. He realized she wasn’t even holding her stick. He had captured her full attention.

“So, one day, he had this idea that we should go camping, just the two of us. Said he knew this great spot, secluded and romantic. I bit.”

“And?”

“And then he bit.”

“Still sounds hot.”

“It was hot. Steaming hot—as in, my internal organs were spilling out into the grass.”

Colleen’s eyes went wide. “From a bite?”

“Well, several. Kind of like a bite, a headshake, a tear, and another bite. And more tearing and shaking.”

“Holy crap, dude. Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“How would you feel about some more secondhand smoke? Because I definitely feel like I need one after listening to that.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jamie said with a shrug. He followed her out back, where the guy from before was still smoking.

“Go inside,” Colleen told the guy. “Come on, Chainsmoker Magee, we need to have a private conversation. You’ve had enough. It’s not working. Go drink some water. Call an Uber.”

“Damn. Fine. What is with you people?” the guy said, tossing his butt in a plastic ashtray and stomping inside. He tried to slam the door behind himself, but it hung and closed slowly in an undramatic fashion—which left Colleen and Jamie both laughing.

She pulled out a vape. When she hit it, Jamie realized quickly that it wasn’t tobacco. She offered it to him, but he shook his head and sipped his drink instead.

“So he was like full-on psycho and dated you just so he could butter you up for a murder trip to the woods?” she asked.

“Actually, no,” Jamie said with a frown. “I think he actually liked me and, in his own way, really did think it was romantic.”

“Bruh, I know this weed is strong, but like… people don’t plan romantic eviscerations.”

Jamie chuckled. “People don’t, but it seems werewolves do.”

Colleen just stared at him. He stared back. Everything was silent. Seconds ticked by. Then he sipped his drink, and she burst out laughing. When he didn’t join her, she stopped and stared at him again.

“Oh my god, dude. No way,” she said.

“Way. He went into the tent while undressing, and I thought he was getting ready for me. I was smiling and looking up at the stars, feeling the freest I’d ever felt. Then a giant-ass wolf came out of the tent. Before I could even scream, it was tearing into my belly and ripping me open.” He waited, but Colleen showed no reaction. She was just staring and listening intently, possibly regretting her choice to smoke before this story.

Jamie frowned, sipped his drink, and winced at the burn. “So, I thought I was dead,” he said. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I was. I lay there in the dirt, bleeding out until everything went black. Then I woke up and Jack was sitting on a log nearby, smiling in his alluring way that got me there. I sat up in a hurry and looked down at my belly in a panic, and there was no more than a faint scar. So, of course, I’m like—”

“What the hell?”

“Right. What the hell.”

“And?”

“And he says, ‘I really like you, so I made you like me. All you have to do is feed, and it will be complete. Then we will truly be mates.’”

“No way. Are you messing with me right now, Secondhand?”

“I wish. So, he goes on to tell me that it can’t be an animal, at least not at first. I need to eat a human to complete the transformation. So, of course, I’m like, no thanks. Then he gets all upset. He says, ‘I didn’t think you’d resist. I thought you loved me. Jamie, if you don’t complete the transformation, you’ll die.’ And that really pisses me off because it feels like soul rape. He didn’t talk to me first and see what I wanted or if I consented to that. He just did it, you know? He made the choice for me and left me with the worst choice ever—either be a murderer or die. God, I hate him so much for that. Even if I make the choice to feed, I’ll never go back to him. I told him to take me home, and he did. It was a silent ride full of tension you could taste. When we got to my house, he said, ‘You don’t have long to decide. You only have forty-eight hours.’ I said, ‘Screw you,’ and slammed the car door way better than Chainsmoker Magee.”

“Wait, Jamie, when was this?”

He gave a long, drawn-out exhale. “Almost twenty-four hours ago.”

“So you just have a day left? What the hell are you going to do? You sure you don’t want to hit this? If I were you, I’d definitely want to hit this.”

“I don’t want to. The liquor already has my head swimming. I don’t do a lot of that stuff. As for what I’m going to do about my situation, I have no clue. That’s why I needed to talk to someone.”

“Dude, am I the first person you told?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, man. What about your mom?”

“She texts me every day to tell me the weather and what I need to wear or bring with me. She worries about whether the squirrels in her yard are getting enough to eat. I can’t go to her.”

“Your dad?”

“He couldn’t handle me telling him I’m gay. You want me to tell him I’m a werewolf?”

“Almost a werewolf.”

“True.”

“So are you gonna go full wolf?”

Jamie sighed. He downed the rest of his glass, glad it was mostly ice cube water. “I don’t think so. I don’t think I could do that to someone. I mean, it would be one thing if I knew someone really bad, but like… the baddest person I know is Jack, and I don’t think he counts.”

“Bruh, it’s 2025. The world is awful. Terrible people are everywhere. Just pick one.”

“And… eat them?”

“It’s literally you or them. Why should it be you? ‘Cause you fell for the wrong guy? Screw that.”

“You know, I really appreciate how quickly you believed me. I think you would make a really great friend if I weren’t going to die in like twenty-four hours.”

Colleen stepped forward and embraced him. He hugged her back, only realizing in the moment how badly he needed that.

“What if we like break the curse or something?” she asked him. “Like we go kill the wolf that made you. Would you turn back?”

Jamie shrugged. “Hell if I know. The only one that knows is Jack, and I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” she said with a sigh. “You wanna kill him just in case? Can’t hurt, right?”

Jamie studied her for a moment, realizing for the first time just how little he knew her.

“Are you like psychotic or something?”

“Asks the werewolf. Damn. I’m just trying to help, Captain Judgy.”

“Sorry, but you just seemed a bit eager.”

“I just don’t want you to die. You seem like a cool guy.”

“Thanks. I wonder how it will happen. Like, will my scar open up and my insides pour out, or will it be more like being poisoned?”

“If you choose death, I’m definitely sticking around to get the answer to that.”

“You’re not helping the ‘I’m not a psycho’ argument.”

Colleen simply shrugged. “Come on. You’ve got like one day to live. Don’t spend it at a dive bar. Let’s get out of here.”

A few minutes later, they were walking down the road.

“Even if you are crazy, I appreciate your friendship,” Jamie said. “I really didn’t want to spend today alone.”

Hitting an ordinary tobacco vape, Colleen said, “Even if you are a werewolf, I appreciate your friendship and love of my secondhand smoke.”

“I actually hate it.”

She laughed. “Turn up here.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place. You’ll like it. I believe in werewolves, bruh.”

“Oh, uh… cool. Good. Okay.”

She laughed. “Dork.”

He followed her to a house on the right behind tall, untrimmed hedges.

“What do you do for a living?” Jamie asked, following her up to the front door. He was trying to make conversation and find out more about her. It felt uncomfortable with everything being about him.

“I sell feet pics and videos and have a pay page. It’s a really good life. You like feet, Secondhand? Or I guess paws, in your case?”

“Ha, ha,” he said sarcastically. “And no, I’m gay. Men’s feet are hairy and gross and flat.”

She scrunched her mouth and nodded. “Some dudes have pretty feet, but yeah, I see your point.”

She unlocked the door and ushered him in as she turned on the lights. She went around turning them all on. There were lamps, overhead lights, and chandeliers. Jamie found himself squinting and shielding his eyes like he was outside on a bright summer day.

“You like it bright, huh?”

“Well, you already think I’m psycho. I don’t want to lead you into a dark house and creep you out.”

“Walking me into the heart of the sun is not better.”

“I guess werewolves are night creatures, right?” she said, turning off some lights.

“You know, I’m not one yet, and I don’t think I will be because I’m not really the killer type.”

“I’m playing with you, bruh. Chill. Have some fun. Lighten up a bit. Enjoy your final hours.”

“Sorry.” He followed her past the dining room through the living room and into a narrow hall.

“I like your house.”

“Me too!” She looked back at him and smiled. Then she opened a door on her left and led him in.

When he got inside, Jamie froze.

He was staring at a gagged man tied to a chair. He was bloody, his hair wet with sweat. His swollen, tear-filled eyes locked on Jamie’s. They were pleading, begging.

“What… what is this?” Jamie asked.

“That’s Kent,” Colleen said with a smile. “I was just gonna kill him myself, but then I met you and I realized that this douchebag could totally be the answer to your problems.”

Jamie’s eyes managed to widen more. “Wait. You want me to… no. I can’t. You—you shouldn’t have brought me here. I should go.”

Colleen frowned. She stepped between him and Kent. She put her hands on Jamie’s shoulders and rubbed them gently as she looked deeply into his eyes.

“Breathe,” she said. “Relax. Just think, Jamie. He’s gonna die either way. You’re not cutting anyone’s life short, but you can extend yours. Love yourself. You deserve to live. It was a jerk like Kent that put you in this position. He shouldn’t get to keep going while you die. I know deep down you know I’m right.”

Jamie frowned. He leaned to the side and looked past her at the man tied to the chair. Kent started shouting from behind the blood-stained duct tape over his mouth. His bruised eyes were wild.

Jamie sighed. He shook his head as he straightened and looked Colleen in the eyes again.

“I just don’t think I can,” he said.

Colleen looked at him with sympathy. She led him out of the room and into the hall, Kent’s muffled cries rising in volume as they left.

“Maybe once you take the first bite, instinct will take over. Maybe you’ll turn or something,” she said softly.

Jamie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“So you think I can just, like… bite his arm or his leg or something, and then the wolf will do the rest?”

“I mean, I don’t know for sure. I don’t know any more than you do, but it sounds good, right? I mean, it makes sense.”

Jamie chewed on his lip and thought for a moment.

“How were you going to kill him if you hadn’t met me?”

Colleen led him to the kitchen, where she retrieved a beer from the fridge.

“Does that really matter? You want one?”

“Sure, I’ll take one. It does matter—because I want to know if it would be worse. Like, if maybe me doing it would be a better fate.”

“I gotcha,” she said, handing him a beer. “I’ve got a bone saw. Originally, I got it to dispose of the body afterwards, but then I was like, why not kill two birds with one saw, you know?”

“You’re going to cut him apart while he’s alive?”

“I don’t know, am I?” she asked with a smile.

“Jesus.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. You wouldn’t kill Jack if you got him tied to a chair? He killed you.”

“I don’t want to kill anybody. I just want to hang out at home.”

Colleen groaned. “Well, Jack ruined that. So let’s say forget these bad boyfriends and then be besties for life.”

“You really are psychotic, you know.”

Colleen shook her hands and moved her head from side to side like a pigeon. “I thought that was established already?”

Jamie was just staring into his beer bottle like it hid the answers.

“Come on. Let’s toast to life. We gonna do this or what?”

Jamie looked up at her and sighed. “Fine. I’ll just bite his leg and see what happens.”

“Hell yeah!” Colleen shouted. She clinked her beer bottle into his, leaned back, and chugged the rest of it.

He did the same. He wasn’t a drinker, and he’d already had more than usual. His head was swimming. He hoped it would make biting the stranger easier.

He followed her back to the room with Kent, swaying back and forth as he walked. She pushed the door open with a wide smile on her face, and Kent stopped screaming behind his tape to stare up at them.

“Hey, we’re back,” Colleen said to him.

Before he could lose his nerve, Jamie stumbled forward, dropped to his knees, and bit the bound man’s calf muscle. Kent’s eyes went wide, and he screamed behind the tape.

Colleen’s smile widened.

* * * * * *

Jamie groaned and rolled over. He felt sheets, and it startled him. He gasped and sat up quickly, realizing he was in a bed. It wasn’t his bed. It was much bigger and softer and silkier—but still, it terrified him.

He lifted the sheet, looked beneath, and moaned quietly. He was completely naked. He quickly looked to his side to see if someone else was there and sighed with relief to find himself alone. His head was pounding. He winced against the pain. He never should have drunk as much as he did.

Was this Colleen’s bedroom? He’d never seen it. If so, where was she?

He looked around for his clothes and frowned when he didn’t see them anywhere. There was a folded pair of jeans on a chair in the corner. Holding the sheet around himself, Jamie hopped out of the bed and hurried to them, looking around nervously, eyes roaming. He grabbed the jeans and tugged them on.

When he looked up, Colleen was standing right there, and he screamed. She laughed at him and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said from behind her hand. “I was just coming to say, those are a pair of Kent’s pants, and I hope they fit okay.”

Jamie eyed her curiously. “Why am I naked? We didn’t—”

She laughed again, not bothering to cover it this time. “No, silly. Nothing like that. You just, uh… your clothes are ruined, bruh.”

Jamie’s brows furrowed. “What happened? I can’t remember anything.”

Colleen lit up like a child at Christmas. “You happened. It was glorious.”

Jamie felt suddenly afraid and wore it plainly on his face. “Wait… I… turned?”

Colleen chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. “Did you ever…”

“I didn’t try to hurt you, did I?”

“Nah, you were preoccupied, you big furry carebear.”

“For God’s sake, Colleen. This isn’t funny. I don’t remember anything. I bit his leg and I woke up here.”

“Because you…” she said, pointing at his chest, “were not you.”

Jamie swallowed a lump in his throat. “I really did it, then. I’m a werewolf.”

“Damn skippy.”

“Wow.”

“Mmhmm.”

“What did I do?”

She laughed again. “Well, let’s just say, I didn’t need the bone saw.”

“Oh God,” Jamie said, throwing his hand to his mouth to hold back the sudden rise of bile in his throat.

“God was definitely not here, bro. You broke yourself and turned into a giant-ass wolf and ripped my fiancé into kibble. It’s gonna take me weeks to clean that mess completely.”

Jamie leaned over and projectile vomited onto the rug. Colleen threw her arms up.

“Seriously?!”

Jamie sat back down on the edge of the bed, holding a fist to his mouth and feeling like he would be sick again.

“I’m sure you don’t need to eat right now, but you want some orange juice or something?” she asked.

“Why not breakfast?” he asked in return, worry lining his face.

“Because you ate most of what you tore off Kent. I thought that was implied.”

“Oh, God…”

“It’s alright,” she said, leaning forward to hug him. “I tried to clean you up the best I could without touching your good and plenties. You were pretty gory.”

“Oh, God…”

“You still want breakfast?”

He leaned over and added to the pile of vomit on the floor. Colleen jumped back to avoid the spray.

“Jeez,” she said with a grimace. “You’re gonna help me clean when you’re feeling better.”

He just nodded, not trusting himself to talk about it.

“I’ll get you some juice,” she said.

He stood and followed her out of the room, avoiding the pile of throw-up as he went. After she handed him the glass of OJ, she said, “Let’s go through Kent’s clothes and see if there’s a shirt you like.”

He simply nodded again and followed her to a different bedroom. It looked like a guest room. Jamie wanted to ask why their stuff was in separate bedrooms if they were living together and engaged, but he was drawn to a framed certificate on the wall.

“This says your name is Jessica and you’re a lawyer.”

“Yeah, well, you met me at a bar, man.”

Jamie suddenly had a terrible thought. “Is his name really Kent?”

“Sure.”

He backed away and looked at her with terror in his gaze.

Colleen laughed at him and punched him in the arm. “I’m kidding. Everything I told you about him is true. Come on. I wanna show you something.”

Swallowing another lump in his throat, Jamie nodded and let her lead the way. When he realized where she was going, he was hesitant to follow. He could already smell the blood in the air and taste it on his tongue.

“Alright, come on,” she said, trying to tow him along.

“I don’t want to go in there.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do.”

He huffed and pushed past her into the room because he just wanted to get it over with and felt like she was never going to stop. He gasped loudly and stumbled backward into the wall.

“Jack?!”

“What is this? What’s he doing here?”

Colleen gave a “hmmph” and walked around him to tear the duct tape roughly off the mouth of the man chained to the chair, glaring at her like he was ready to eat her even in his human form.

“Tell him why you’re here?”

“He’s dangerous,” Jamie told her. “We can’t have him here.”

“I definitely wasn’t going to go with traditional ropes this time. You’re lucky I’m kinky and had chains lying around.” She turned back to Jack. “Tell him.”

Jack glared at her again, flames burning in his irises. “You fed,” he said, turning his eyes to Jamie. “You turned. It called me to you so we could be together as we were meant to be. It’s the reason I made you to begin with.”

“Can you believe that?” Colleen said, applying a fresh strip of tape to Jack’s mouth. She patted it down with a couple of good slaps. The beast within Jack snarled, and he writhed, struggling against his chains.

Colleen looked at Jamie with her hands on her hips.

“He took away your choices, then came to claim you like you were his pet or toy or something.”

Jamie swallowed a lump in his throat but nodded. “It is pretty messed up.”

Jack thrashed angrily again, snarling behind the tape.

“Hush,” she said, throwing up an index finger. “Howl it to somebody else.”

She looked at Jamie. “He jumped right through my window—broke the glass and everything—because he doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. Then he tried to get you to follow him to whatever cage he had set up for his little pet. Even as a wolf, you knew better than to go with him. So this douchenozzle turns human and is all naked in my house like I wanted to see that, but what does he care about consent, right?”

Jack was practically screaming, but the words were unintelligible. Still, he had Jamie’s attention. Colleen snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Hey. Over here. Focus.”

“Sorry,” Jamie said, forcing himself to meet her eyes.

“So, he said some magic words or something, and you turned human, too. You were exhausted from all the murder and human consumption and whatnot, and collapsed. So, Jerkface McNarcissist over here turns and realizes I’m here (in my own house, I might add) for the first time—like ‘What? Who are you?’ and crap. I’m the person whose window you just broke, jerk. Turns out, in human form, a baseball bat still works just fine. And the crowd goes wild. Ahhhhh!”

She raised her arms in mock celebration.

“So I chained his punk ass to this chair, cleaned you up, and took you to bed.”

She cleared her throat. “To sleep. I laid on the couch. Don’t worry.”

Jamie shook his head slowly. He threw his hands up. “Well, all of that was crazy, but what are we supposed to do now?”

“Well, maybe it’s like the movies, you know? Maybe if you kill the wolf that made you, you will be normal again.”

“You will never be normal again.”

“Duh. But anyway, even if it doesn’t work, this piece of garbage deserves to die anyway.”

Jamie licked his lips. He looked nervous. “Look… Colleen… I don’t remember anything about killing Kent. I want to keep it that way.”

“Then don’t go into that room. Man, there are blood splatters and innards everywhere.”

“I got it. I won’t. Point is… I don’t… I can’t… kill anyone else. Especially not as a human.”

Colleen sighed, slouched, and looked at him with disappointment.

“So you don’t think we should kill him?”

Jamie took her face in his hands. He looked her in the eyes, smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. Then he said:

“No, new bestie. I mean… this one’s all you. I’m gonna go get some more orange juice. It’s good—full of pulp—just how I like it.”

As he walked away, he heard Jack’s muffled screams and thrashing.