And the wolf seemed to know it. Its eyes glowed eerily yellow in the light of a lamp that was lying on its side. They were such strange eyes, more intense and more savage than any animal's she'd ever seen. She saw it draw its legs beneath it.
Move-now, the mysterious new part of her mind snapped.
Hannah moved. The wolf hit the bookcase with incredible force, and then the bookcase itself was falling.
Hannah flung herself sideways in time to avoid being crushed-but the case fell with an unholy noise directly in front of the door.
Trapped, the dark cool voice in Hannah's mind noted analytically. No exit anymore, except the window.
"Hannah? Hannah?" It was Paul's voice just outside the room. The door flew open-all of four inches. It jammed against the fallen bookcase. "God-what's going on in there? Hannah? Hannah!" He sounded panicked now, banging the door uselessly against the blockage.
Don't think about him, the new part of Hannah's mind said sharply, but Hannah couldn't help it. He sounded so desperate. She opened her mouth to shout back to him, her concentration broken.
And the wolf lunged.
This time Hannah didn't move fast enough. A terrible weight smashed into her and she was falling, flying.
She landed hard, her head smacking into the floorboards.
It hurt.
Even as she felt it, everything grayed out. Her vision went sparkling, her mind soared away from the pain, and a strange thought flickered through her head.
I'm dead now. It's over again. Oh, Isis, Goddess of Life, guide me to the other world....
"Hannah! Hannah! What's going on in there?" Paul's frantic voice came to her dimly.
Hannah's vision cleared and the bizarre thoughts vanished. She wasn't soaring in sparkling emptiness and she wasn't dead. She was lying on the floor with a book's sharp corner in the small of her back and a wolf on her chest.
Even in the midst of her terror, she felt a strange appalled fascination. She had never seen a wild animal this close. She could see the white-tipped guard hairs standing erect on its face and neck; she could see saliva glistening on its lolling red tongue. She could smell its breath-humid and hot, vaguely dog-like but much wilder.
And she couldn't move, she realized. The wolf was as long as she was tall, and it weighed more than she did. Pinned underneath it, she was utterly helpless. All she could do was lie there shivering as the narrow, almost delicate muzzle got closer and closer to her face.
Her eyes closed involuntarily as she felt the cold wetness of its nose on her cheek. It wasn't an affectionate gesture. The wolf was nudging at strands of her hair that had fallen across her face. Using its muzzle like a hand to push the hair away.
Oh, God, please make it stop, Hannah thought. But she was the only one who could stop this-and she didn't know how.
Now the cold nose was moving across her cheekbone. Its sniffing was loud in her ear. The wolf seemed to be smelling her, tasting her, and looking at her all at once.
No. Not looking at me. Looking at my birthmark.
It was another one of those ridiculous, impossible thoughts-and it snapped into place like the last piece in a puzzle deep inside her. Irrational as it was, Hannah felt absolutely certain it was true. And it set off the cool wind voice in her mind again.
Reach out, the voice whispered, quiet and businesslike. Feel around you. The weapon has to be there somewhere. You saw it on the bookcase. Find it.
The wolf stopped its explorations, seeming satisfied. It lifted its head... and laughed.
Really laughed. It was the eeriest and most frightening thing Hannah had ever seen. The big mouth opened, panting, showing teeth, and the yellow eyes blazed with hot bestial triumph.
Hurry, hurry.
Hannah's eyes were helplessly fixed on the sharp white teeth ten inches away from her face, but her hand was creeping out, feeling along the smooth pine floorboards around her. Her fingers glided over books, over the feathery texture of a fern-and then over something square and cold and faced with glass.
The wolf didn't seem to notice. Its lips were pulling back farther and farther. Not laughing anymore.
Hannah could see its short front teeth and its long curving canines. She could see its forehead wrinkling.
And she could feel its body vibrate in a low and vicious growl.
The sound of absolute savagery.
The cool wind voice had taken over Hannah's mind completely. It was telling her what would happen next. The wolf would sink his teeth into her throat and then shake her, tearing skin and ripping muscles away. Her blood would spray like a fountain. It would fill her severed windpipe and her lungs and her mouth. She would die gasping and choking, maybe drowning before she bled out.
Except. . . that she had silver in her hand. A silver picture frame.
Kill it, the cool voice whispered. You've got the right weapon. Hit it dead in the eye with a corner. Drive silver into its brain.
Hannah's ordinary mind didn't even try to figure out how a picture frame could possibly be the right weapon. It didn't object, either. But faint and faraway, there came another voice in her head. Like the cool wind voice, it wasn't hers, but it wasn't someone else's, either. It was a clear crystal voice that seemed to sparkle in jeweled colors as it spoke.
You are not a killer. You don't kill. You have never killed, no matter what happened to you. You do not kill.
I don't kill, Hannah thought slowly, in agreement.
Then you're going to die, the cool wind voice said brutally, much louder than the crystal voice. Because this animal won't stop until either it's dead or you are. There's no other way to deal with these creatures.
Then it happened. The wolf's mouth opened. In a lightning-fast move, it darted for her throat.
Hannah didn't think. She brought the picture frame up ... and slammed it into the side of the wolf's head.