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He took a step, his boots crunching in the snow A shape ht his rifle all the way to his shoulder, gloved finger to the trigger

Clouds slid over thecracked to his left and Tom swore he felt hot breath on the back of his neck When he spun, nothing was there

He took one hand off the rifle and fuht in the folds and when he wrenched, it flew out and sailed into the surrounding darkness

The brush crackled to his right now He spun again, finger still on the trigger, and this tiht of Danny Royce Another trapper, Danny had been spooked by shadows in this saun, only to find that he'd shot some kid, a wild-haired teen, probably a hiker or camper Danny had buried the body and no one ever found it, but Danny hadn't been the sa toohis story to Tohost was stalking hiuilt, but still, the story kept hier

The shape had vanished Toe in the shadows Then he saw it, at least twenty feet away now, a huge shape between two trees The cloud cover thinned enough for the h and he could see the shape, too pale for a bear

Tom hunkered down as slowly as he could, and with his free hand, he began feeling around for the flashlight He allowed hiainst the snow He scooped it up His finger found the switch The click sounded harsh against the silence Nothing happened He whacked the flashlight against his thigh and tried again Nothing

So hiht he'd been shot He lost his grip on the rifle A blast of hot breath seared his neck, and a weight pinned him to the snow

As the thing flipped hiht bounced off a tree and flicked on just when fangs tore into his throat To blue eyes, and his last thought was That's not one of my wolves

MESSAGE

YOU CAN'T HELP someone who doesn't want to be helped And y

ou really can't help so distance,a beeline for the nearest train, plane or bus ter as it takes him hundreds of miles from you

As I chased Reese Williah--the third city in two days--I had to ad to take this rejection personally I don't usually have this probleuys Sure, at five foot ten, I'm a little taller than some like My build is a little more athletic than most like I don't always put asjeans and T-shirts But I'm a blue-eyed blonde, so men usually decide that they can overlookthe other way

Sure, if they found out I was a olf, I could understand a little screa But Reese had no such excuse He was a olf hi I'uys like hi at least until they realize that's not such a good idea if they'd like to keep all their body parts intact

I'd lost Reese when he'd cut through a throng of rowdy Penguins fans heading off to a gah the drunken rabbing estions, I retreated and waited for them to move on

By then Reese's trail was overlaid and interwoven with a score of human ones And the air here already stunk, the city core entering construction season, the stink ofthe smell of the Ohio River a halfup Reese's trail at this intersection Not without changing into a wolf in don Pittsburghanother thing the Pack frowns on

When I caught up with hilow of a Starbucks sign, presu for a populated place to rest When he saw that all the seats inside were empty, he veered across the road

Reese ran into one of those office-drone oases typical of big cities, where they carve out a store-size chunk of land and add interlocking brick, foliage and rando workers to relax there, enjoy the scenery, listen to the sy horns and i with their lattes

After a dozen strides, Reese was through the tiny park and veering again, this ti rabbed the barrier and vaulted into the lane I raced over to see the auto, hunched over, right behind it

I did a vault ofthe botto under the door just as it was about to close I leapt tobehind the nearest post Then I strained to hear footsteps For alarage It quit with a shudder and a gasp A door desperate for oil squeaked open, then slammed shut

Hunched over, I hopscotched between the sparse parked cars Ahead I could hear the van driver's heavy steps thudding as he walked the other way

A door creaked and a distant rectangle of light appeared The door hadn't even clicked shut when Reese darted out fro the asphalt as he ran