She moved to see past one of the trusses. “There’s also a small box sitting in the middle of the open space on the left side where the floor is finished. And the smell is pretty strong up here.”
“How small?”
“About twelve by twelve.” She glanced down at him. “I think we’ve been pranked.”
“How?”
“This box might be a homemade stink bomb.”
He frowned. “Great.”
She lifted one shoulder. “It’s almost summer. The kids are wound up from being in school all year. The summer crazies have begun. Or we might have some fledgling witches practicing their spells, that kind of thing. You never know.”
“That’s just perfect.” He rolled his eyes. “The good news is I have a containment bag in my truck.”
She made a face at him as she put her gun away. “For real?”
“For real. It’s not really for stink bombs, but I’m sure it’ll work. We had a skunk incident once.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Don’t ask.”
She laughed. “Oh, I’m going to ask, but later. You want to grab it?”
“Sure. Be right back.” He disappeared from view.
A second later, she heard the garage door going up, and natural light filled the space below. He came back in a couple of minutes with a large canvas contraption that was half bag, half box.
He climbed the steps to join her. She moved out of the way to let him go by, although there was so little area in the attic that he still brushed against her.
The nearness let her get a whiff of him again. Definitely a better smell than rotten eggs.
He opened the bag. “You want to hold this open while I lift the box in?”
“Sure.” She took the bag from him, keeping the mouth wide.
He put a hand on one of the trusses as he went under it but yanked his hand back suddenly. “Son of a—there must be a nail sticking up.”
His palm was bleeding from a long scratch. She frowned. “You caught yourself?”
He nodded. “I’ll be fine. Wolves heal fast. Let’s just get this thing and get out of here.” He reached for the box, but as soon as he picked it up, it started ticking. Eyes wide, he looked at her. “Run.”
He dropped the box as they both started to move, but before it hit the floor, it exploded in a shower of white powder and glittering particles.
They coughed and wheezed. Jenna tried to hold her breath, but she’d already inhaled some. It covered them and filled the air.
She was already feeling lightheaded. “We have to get out of here.”
He nodded and reached for his radio. “We need help too.”
She made it to the stairs, but she was in no condition to jump. Her vision had gone double. She turned around and got one foot on the first rung. Her hands were clammy, and her heart was racing. She squeezed the sides of the steps harder.
The floor below tilted and shifted like a carnival ride.
A thud and a low growl brought her head up.
An enormous wolf lay on his side next to the remains of the box. Titus had shifted. And apparently before he’d gotten to call for help, because she hadn’t heard anything, and his radio lay a foot away from him now.
She knew that transforming was a natural response for a lot of shifters when they were hurt. Had the explosion done more to him than cover him in dust and glitter?
She pulled herself back up the steps to the attic floor. “Titus, are you okay? Do you need help?”
The attic light went oddly dim, and the entire space turned sideways.
No, it wasn’t the attic moving. She’d fallen. She was too numb to get up. Her entire body was pins and needles and nonresponsive.
At least she could still breathe. The air was thick with the scent of wolf. Maybe because she was only inches from Titus. His fur looked so soft. If she’d been able to move, she would have reached out and touched it. His paws were huge. So were his teeth.
“The better to eat you with,” she whispered. Then she giggled, loopy from whatever she’d inhaled.
A second later, the light that remained went completely out.
Titus hadn’t meant to shift. He’d been about to call for assistance on his radio when the wolf had taken over, the urge driven by whatever had been in that dirty bomb. So he’d shifted, dropping the radio in the process, and then lost his ability to stand.
Now he lay sprawled on the attic floor in wolf form, paralyzed by the same cocktail of substances that had caused him to shift. He watched helplessly as Jenna came toward him and fell.
She ended up close enough to touch, but he was powerless to do anything for her. A little noise that almost sounded like laughter escaped from her, then she went utterly still.
He couldn’t move, and his vision was getting blurry. He couldn’t do anything but lie there and growl. Lot of help that was. After a few more seconds, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to do that anymore.
Everything wavered like it was caught in ripples of overheated air. For a moment, he panicked, thinking there was a fire, but he didn’t smell smoke.
Then, in the shadows beyond the reach of the attic bulb, something moved. A trick of the light? Or maybe just him seeing things. That was more likely. He tried to lift his head for a better look, but his body wasn’t responding to the signals his brain was sending out.
The shape came closer but remained a murky figure, impossible to see clearly. Except for a pair of eyes that glowed like live embers. As it drew near, Titus noted the form was generally human
