Free Blood Moon by Graeme Reynolds

the meantime, we’re going to act like nothing is wrong. Tomorrow, you and I are going to smile and give Sophie a nice Christmas day. We’ll deal with everything else after that.”
    Sophie felt confused. Her parents were talking as if something had happened to Uncle Dmitri and Auntie Kasha, but that was just silly. She’d only seen them a few days before, and they’d gone on holiday. They must have been talking about someone else, she decided. Perhaps her mother had another sister she’d never met.
    Sophie pushed the worrying thoughts aside and concentrated on the task at hand. She’d never be able to sleep until she was certain that Santa’s mince pie was in its usual place on the coffee table. With exaggerated care, she crept out onto the landing and made her way downstairs, placing one foot slowly onto each step before shifting her weight to it, in order to avoid any tell-tale creaks. Her mother could hear a mouse fart halfway along the street, so getting past her unnoticed was no easy task. Fortunately, it was something that she’d spent her entire life practicing, and could be as silent as a shadow when the need arose.
    She reached the bottom of the stairs and stood on the soft, pale carpet of the hallway. The door to the living room was closed. She’d not considered that. The handle on that door always gave off a distinctive little squeak that would bring her mother downstairs in a second. That meant she’d need to go through the kitchen and dining room to get to the lounge, but that presented a different challenge. A set of wind chimes hung just behind the kitchen door. The slightest breeze would set them off. She’d have to be extra careful.
    Sophie pulled open the kitchen door, millimetres at a time so as not to create a draft, and slipped through the gap onto the cold slate-tiled floor. Her parents were still talking upstairs, their voices muffled, but understandable to her sharpened hearing. She ignored them. They were talking about boring, grown-up things, and she needed to concentrate on what she was doing or risk getting caught. With the mood her mother was in, that really wasn’t an option. The last thing she wanted was to spend Christmas day confined to her room in disgrace.
    There was just one more obstacle to overcome. The sliding door at the far end of the kitchen. From there, she’d have a clear view into the living room. Fortunately, the door was partially opened. She’d never have been able to open it without making noise, even by the small amount needed to see into the next room. She allowed herself a small smile of victory as she crept across the kitchen and peered through the doorway.
    The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled, casting multi-coloured shadows that danced across the room. An empty glass, and a saucer covered in mince pie crumbs sat on the coffee table, and on her father’s armchair in the corner of the room sat a large pile of presents. Her father hadn’t forgotten, and best of all, Santa had already been!
    The crunch of a footfall on the gravel path outside. A bright light shining through the kitchen window. Sophie’s heart fluttered and she brought her hands up to her mouth, barely able to contain her excitement.
    “Santa?”
    She hardly had time to scream as the kitchen window exploded, and shards of glass tore her face into tattered, bloody ribbons.
     
    25th December 2008. Underhill Military Base, Sublevel Four. 00:10
    Marie threw herself away from Michael’s thrashing form. Klaxons echoed along the corridors and red strobe lights flashed against the concrete walls. She could see clouds of steam billowing from Daniel as he struggled to restrain the disoriented beast that had been her brother. He was on the verge of transforming himself, his wolf as close to the surface as he could get it. Grey fur burst from Daniel’s pores then retreated back into his skin. Even so, Michael would be free in another second, and in the distance she could hear the sounds of boots