CHAPTER 9

I ran. The bullies were back, and they were chasing me down the alleyway. A dead end lay before me, a massive wall, but I ran anyway, right towards it. As I ran, I picked up speed, impossible speed, and the buildings flew by in a blur. I could feel the wind rushing through my hair.

As I got closer, I leapt, and in a single bound I was at the top of the wall, thirty feet high. One more leap, and I flew through the air again, thirty feet, twenty, landing on the concrete without losing a stride, still running, running. I felt powerful, invincible. My speed increased even more, and I felt like I could fly.

I looked down and before my eyes the concrete changed to grass—tall, swaying, green grass. I ran through a prairie, the sun shining, and I recognized it as the home of my early childhood.

In the distance, I could sense that my father stood on the horizon. As I ran, I felt I was getting closer to him. I saw him coming into focus. He stood with a large smile, and arms spread wide.

I ached to see him again. I ran for all I was worth. But as I got closer, he got further away.

Suddenly, I was falling.

A huge, medieval door opened, and I entered a church. I walked down a dimly lit aisle, torches burning on either side of me. Before a pulpit, a man stood with his back to me, kneeling. As I got closer, he stood and turned.

It was a priest. He looked at me, and his face filled with fear. I felt the blood coursing through my veins, and I watched myself as I approached him, unable to stop myself. He raised a cross to my face, afraid.

I pounced on him. I felt my teeth grow long, too long, and watched as they plunged into the priest’s neck.

He shrieked, but I didn’t care. I felt his blood course through my teeth and into my veins, and it was the greatest feeling of my life.

I sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. I looked all around me, disoriented. Harsh morning sunlight streamed in.

Finally, I realized I had been dreaming. I wiped the cool sweat from my temples and sat on the edge of my bed.

Silence. Judging from the light, Sam and my mom must have already left. I looked at the clock and saw that it was indeed late: 8:15. I’d be late for my second day of school.

Perfect.

I was surprised that Sam hadn’t woken me up. In all our years, he’d never let me oversleep—he’d always wake me if he was leaving first.

He must still be mad about last night.

I glanced at my cell: dead. I had forgotten to charge it. It was just as well. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

I threw on some clothes from the floor and ran my hands through my hair. I normally would just leave without eating, but this morning I felt thirsty. Unusually thirsty. I went to the fridge and grabbed a half gallon of red grapefruit juice. In a sudden frenzy, I tore off the top and gulped it right from the container. I didn’t stop gulping until I’d downed the entire half gallon.

I looked at the empty container. Had I just drank all of that? In my life, I’d never drank more than a half a glass. I watched myself reach up and crush the cardboard container in a single hand, down to a tiny ball. I couldn’t understand what this newfound strength was that coursed through my veins. It was exciting. And scary.

I was still thirsty. And hungry. But not for food.

My veins screamed for something more.

But I couldn’t understand what.

I couldn’t think.

My body felt like it wanted to stretch in every direction. To become something else….a wolf, maybe?

My sense of smell was overpowering.

Was I losing my mind? What was happening to me? Would I change back?

I felt myself flood with desire, and I knew only one thing:

I needed to see Jonah.

Now.