my voice. His eyes sparkle and dance behind their dark-brown coloring, and the grin that spreads across his face makes him look all the more relieved. Was he actually afraid I wouldn’t return those three words? He’s an idiot if he thought that. Recalling his declaration to me moments ago, I think I’ve always known he loved me, but it’s different when a person actually tells you.
Ben leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on my lips, so feather-light it’s as if it never existed at all. “C’mon,” he murmurs, “let’s go check out the town and surrounding areas, see if we catch any strange happenings.” He clasps my hand in his and leads me out of the room.
Francine doesn’t acknowledge our presence, but I acknowledge hers.
“See you later, Francine,” I say, as Ben opens the front door.
Although the air is cold outside, my new dress prevents any drafts and maintains warmth. I don’t know about Ben, but I’m actually happy with my new outfit. Maybe now we’ll blend in with the rest of society.
By the time we arrive in town, some sort of commotion has broken out between the shop-lined streets. A growing crowd circles a small area, and gossip spreads from ear to ear. Ben and I creep up next to the nosy onlookers and ask what’s going on.
The older man to my right is the first to respond. “One of those mischievous Conway brothers shoved a poor woman into a mud puddle,” he explains.
Bingo. I glance over my shoulder, where Ben stands behind me, and his expression is priceless. I’m sure it sounds odd, hearing his name in this era and knowing one of his ancestors is within reach. At least we know they exist and nothing magical has happened yet.
Another man on my left pipes up and says, “He grabbed her and took off down the lane.” He points toward the mucky, potholed road ahead.
“Do you know, by chance, where they might be headed?” I ask.
“Mayhap the Lowell residence, where she lives. Used to be the old Peabody mansion.”
Two birds with one stone? Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Thank you so much,” I tell them, snatching Ben’s hand and briskly walking in the same direction where either Ulric or Alaric, and Daciana, disappeared.
As soon as we’re out of hearing range, Ben says, “Well, that was easy.”
“Too easy,” I retort. “All we have to do is catch up to them.”
Ben stops so quickly, I almost trip as he jerks me backward. “And what are we going to do when we meet them? We can’t tell them who we are.”
“Why not?” I shrug. “As long as we keep our last names confidential, they won’t be suspicious. We just need to squeeze our way into their personal lives, befriend them, and then we’ll know where they are and who they’re with. Five steps ahead, Ben. We have to be five steps ahead at all times.”
He purses his lips and gazes into the distance. “All right. Think of aliases before we take the next step.”
My mind in a frenzied fog, I say the first surname that comes to mind, “Lowry.”
Ben nods. “Mine will be Conwell.”
“Okay, Candra Lowry and Benjamin Conwell. Similar, but maybe they won’t be noticeable.”
Refraining from a good laugh, Ben says, “They’re horrible names.”
I abstain from laughter, as well. “Okay, yeah, they are.”
Up ahead, a scream pierces the air. Ben and I spring into motion, as there’s no time to waste. Only two people are going this way, other than Ben and me, and if they’re in danger, well, it’s up to us to help them. We just have to be careful.
Three silhouettes emerge on the horizon—a man and a woman, and a freaking werewolf, who is chasing them. Ben and I have the ability to transform, but poof! there goes our newly-crafted attire. We’ll have to figure out another way to stop the creature. Just as we pass through the woodland area, following the dirt road to the Lowell residence, the Conway brother and Daciana slam the front door in the werewolf’s face. It bashes against the entryway, clawing and biting at the wood, but the entry doesn’t budge. Pacing back and forth in front of the porch, it finally releases a long howl, scrapes the dirt like a bull about to charge, and lowers itself, ready to pounce.
“Stop!” Ben cries out. “Leave them alone, you mangy, overgrown sack of fur!”
The werewolf jerks its head around and exposes its fangs in an angry snarl.
Really, Ben? Really?
Do you have a