Night of the Werecat (7 page)

The black cat was climbing down the tree. Away from her.

She gazed after it until it disappeared.

Why didn't it attack? What could have scared it off?

Wendy noticed that the sky was growing lighter in the east.

The terrifying shadows had disappeared.

For the first time in hours Wendy wasn't afraid. She was safe now.

Except for one little problem.

Her skin began to itch. Her paws tingled. Her face twisted as her nose and mouth moved farther apart.

She was changing back!

In less than a minute Wendy had transformed into a human girl.

A human girl stuck at the top of a pine tree.

On one of the flimsy upper branches. A branch she could feel beginning to bend under her weight.

Wendy wrapped her arms and legs around it. When her heart stopped hammering, she glanced down.

It was so far . . . so far . . .

There was no way she could climb down!

13

W
endy gripped the tree branch as tightly as she could. It was no thicker than a broomstick.

And the ground was so far away.

She could feel the top of the tree sway in the wind. It had easily held a cat—even a werecat. But now Wendy was human. She was much too big for the small branch.

Stay calm, Wendy told herself. You have to get down!

Wendy forced herself to look down again. A wave of dizziness washed over her. The entire world seemed to spin.

I'm going to fall! she thought in a panic. She was up so high! Her hands began to sweat. Wendy's terrible fear of heights was taking over.

NO! Wendy ordered silently. Remember yesterday. Remember the gymnastics tryout. She had been strong. The balance beam was a snap. Being far off the ground had not bothered her.

You can do it.

Wendy forced her hands to relax their grip on the branch. Then slowly, cautiously, she moved first one hand, then the other to the tree trunk.

Then she eased her body off the branch, slid her feet down, and lowered herself to the branch below.

This next branch was sturdier, thicker. She felt a tiny bit safer holding on to it.

But she was still far above the ground. She had to keep going. She couldn't let herself relax.

She had more climbing to do.

Again, she held tightly to the tree trunk and eased down to the next lower branch, and then the one below that. She stopped and took a deep breath.

She reached out with her legs for the next branch.

And felt only air.

Her grip on the tree started to slip.

Her legs kicked back and forth in panic. Needles pulled at her nightgown. The dizziness returned.

Her sense of balance and strength vanished.

“No!” Wendy cried.

And then her foot struck something solid. Another branch. Carefully, she put her weight on it.

She leaned into the tree trunk to steady herself. She waited for her heart to go back to beating normally. But she knew she had to continue her descent.

Branch by branch.

It was getting easier. The farther down she went, the thicker and stronger the branches. The easier to hold on.

Wendy glanced down again. The ground was still far away. But she wasn't dizzy. She wasn't afraid.

Wendy stopped to untangle her nightgown from a cluster of needles. I'll just rest a minute, she thought. Her efforts had exhausted her.

She leaned against the trunk, pleased with her progress. And thrilled that her fear was gone.

Then she heard it.

The sound of wood splitting.

“No!” Wendy whispered.

With a loud CRACK! the branch Wendy was perched on split off from the tree.

“Nooo!” Wendy shrieked again. She scrambled toward the tree trunk and tried to grab on. She wanted to sink her claws into the tree, to keep from falling.

Her hands scraped on the rough bark. She couldn't hold on.

Screaming, Wendy fell.

14

T
hud!
A moment later she landed in the thick grass at the base of the tree.

Stunned, Wendy lay on the ground. Nothing seemed to be broken. Carefully she sat up. She was scratched, bruised, and sore, but not really hurt. Wendy blinked a few times and shook her head to clear it. No serious damage.

Wendy stood, shivering in the early dawn. She brushed herself off. Her nightgown was grass-stained and torn.

Her nightgown?

Yikes! What if someone sees me?
Wendy thought. I have to get home—fast!

Wendy scurried out of the yard and into the alley. She tried to remember all the twists and turns she
had taken when she was running from the black werecat. Luckily, it was very early Sunday morning. She didn't see another person all the way home. Finally she reached her house. She found the spare key under the flowerpot on the back porch, then quietly unlocked the kitchen door.

Good! No sign of her parents or Brad. They usually slept late on Sundays.

She tiptoed upstairs. Her arms and legs were covered with scratches. There was a larger gash on her forearm, where the black werecat had clawed her. After showering, Wendy smeared first-aid cream on her cuts. “I should have taken a bath in this stuff,” she muttered.

She didn't know what to do with her torn and grass-stained nightgown, so she hid it in the back of her closet. Then she pulled on her jeans and a black sweatshirt. One of her few outfits that didn't have a cat on it.

This is it! Wendy thought. Being a werecat almost killed me! I have to stop it. Somehow!

She gazed at her reflection in her dresser mirror, glaring at the werecat charm. She tried to open the clasp. Of course, it was still stuck.

Wendy snuck down to the basement, where her father kept his tool kit. She found a pair of wire clippers. Holding them very carefully, she tried to cut through the chain.

It didn't work.

Wendy flung the wire clippers to the floor, fighting back tears of frustration.

I need help, she thought. I can't do it alone.

But who could help her?

Tina! Of course. Tina would help her.

Tina was her best friend. They always told each other everything. And Wendy felt terrible keeping such a big secret from her.

But would Tina believe her? I'll find a way to convince her, Wendy decided. Between the two of them, Wendy was sure they would find a solution.

Wendy felt better just knowing she was finally going to share her problem with Tina. After leaving a note for her parents, Wendy hopped on her bike and pedaled over to Tina's house. Tina's mom was already out in the garden, weeding the flower bed. Tina sat on the back porch, glumly staring into space.

“Hi,” Wendy called. She left the bike in the yard and joined Tina on the porch. “You look upset. What's wrong?”

“My parents are still mad at poor Shalimar,” Tina explained. “He's still locked in the basement.”

“Because of the ripped couch?” Wendy asked.

“Yes.” Tina sighed. “I told them he never came into the TV room that night.” She shrugged. “But maybe he did. Maybe he sneaked in while I wasn't looking.”

Go ahead, Wendy told herself. Tell Tina who really ripped the couch.

Wendy fought back her nervousness. “Uh, Tina? Shalimar definitely didn't rip the couch.”

“How can you be sure?”

Wendy took a deep breath. Here goes. “Because it was me.”

Tina stared at Wendy, then burst out laughing. “Anything to get Shal off the hook, right?”

“I'm serious,” Wendy insisted. She glanced over at Tina's mom in the nearby flower bed. “Let's go inside. I have something important to tell you.”

Still giggling, Tina followed Wendy into the house. “Okay, Wendy,” she said as soon as they were inside. “What's up? Why are you acting so weird?”

Wendy wasn't sure what to say. She pulled the werecat charm out from under her shirt. “I think I know why Mrs. Bast wouldn't sell this charm to me.”

“Because she's a wacko?” Tina joked.

“Because it's not just a necklace. It has special powers. And I think Mrs. Bast knew.” She could see Tina was about to say something, but Wendy wouldn't let her. “Ever since I started to wear this charm,” she continued, “I've been turning into a werecat.”

Wendy took a deep breath. There. She said it. She gazed at Tina, wondering how her best friend would react.

Tina stared at her without saying a word. Then she exploded in a fit of giggles. “I knew there was something different about you lately,” she gasped between guffaws.

“Tina!” Wendy cried. “I'm serious. I turn into a werecat at night. I—I'm covered with fur! I prowl the alleys! I—”

Tina was laughing so hard, she actually doubled over. “Stop it, Wendy! Let me catch my breath.”

Wendy's mind raced. She had to make Tina believe
her! What could she say to convince her? But Wendy was having trouble concentrating. A noise in the dining room tugged at her attention.

It was a soft noise, a rustling noise. Wendy recognized it as a bird in a cage. It must be Merribel, the Barnes's pet bird. Wendy knew the birdcage was in the dining room by the window.

On the other side of the wall.

Wendy heard the soft fluttering of the bird's feathers as it groomed itself. How can I hear that through the wall? she wondered.

“You nut!” Tina exclaimed, shaking her head. “Wendy the werecat! That's a good one!”

“Right,” Wendy murmured. She was barely listening. Her mind was filled with the image of the canary. She began to move toward the dining room.

The bird continued grooming. The sound of its beak stroking its feathers rang in Wendy's ears. I have to get to the bird, Wendy thought. As if she were controlled by an unseen force, Wendy found herself in the dining room in front of the birdcage.

The canary sat on a perch. Its beak moved swiftly across its feathers. Wendy carefully opened the cage door. The bird continued to groom.

It looks so soft, she thought. I'll just touch it.

The canary raised its head and gazed at Wendy. Slowly, as slowly as a stalking cat, Wendy slipped her hand into the cage. Her fingers closed around the tiny bird. She brought the bird out of the cage and held it up to her face.

The bird's warm scent filled her nostrils.
Mmmmmmmmm. Delicious, Wendy thought. Just a taste, she told herself. Just a tiny little taste.

Wendy opened her mouth.

Then she stuck out her tongue and gently licked the bird.

“Wendy!” Tina's voice shrieked behind her. “What are you doing?”

15

W
endy whirled around. Tina stood in the dining room doorway, her eyes wide with shock. “I—I—nothing,” Wendy stammered. “I'm not doing anything!” She glanced down at the canary in her hand. Its tiny heart pounded with terror. It struggled against her grip.

Tina began laughing again. “Sorry, Wen. Chomping Merribel still won't convince me that you're a werecat.” Tina took the terrified bird from Wendy and locked it back in the cage. “Good try, though.”

Wendy couldn't say anything. She was too stunned. I was actually going to eat the canary, she realized. Her werecat nature was getting stronger. It was beginning to control her, even during the day. Even in her human form.