Free The Boy Who Ate Fear Street by R.L. Stine

old woman glanced at the trinket and gave a startled gasp. Then she scowled. “That charm isn’t for sale,” she snapped. In a quick move, Mrs. Bast snatched the necklace from Wendy’s hand.
    Wendy was shocked. “But why not?” she blurted. “It was in the tray with all the other cat charms.”
    â€œIt’s not for sale,” Mrs. Bast repeated. “And it’s not a cat charm. It’s a werecat charm. That white star on its face is the mark of the werecat.”
    Werecat? Wendy glanced at Tina. Tina raised her eyebrows.
    â€œWhat’s a werecat?” Tina asked.
    â€œHave you heard of werewolves?” Mrs. Bast demanded.
    â€œEveryone’s heard of werewolves,” Wendy replied. “They’re people who supposedly turn into wolves when the moon is full.”
    â€œWerecats are the same,” Mrs. Bast said. “Only they turn into cats. Very large, very wild cats. And they do it every night, whether the moon is full or not.”
    Tina snorted. “But werewolves aren’t real,” she protested.
    â€œI don’t know about werewolves,” the old woman said. “But werecats are very real indeed.” She poked her head out of the booth and glanced around. Seeming satisfied that no one was listening, Mrs. Bast continued. “I’ve seen them myself,” she whispered. “Right here in Shadyside. They prowl the Fear Street Woods.”
    Wendy looked at Tina and they both smiled. They loved stories about Fear Street.
    Everyone told stories about the creepy things that happened there. But Wendy had been in the Fear Street Woods lots of times. And except for twisting her ankle once when she tripped, nothing terrifying ever happened to her! Still, she and Tina loved to hear all the Fear Street rumors.
    â€œAfter midnight,” Mrs. Bast continued in her croaking voice, “that’s when the werecats roam.”
    â€œLike alley cats?” Wendy asked.
    Mrs. Bast shook her head. “Not at all. You would never mistake a werecat for an ordinary alley cat. A werecat is more daring. All its senses are sharper. It can see, smell, and hunt better. Even its balance isbetter than a regular cat’s. Werecats are beautiful, fierce creatures.”
    â€œMy cat, Shalimar, is fierce when I don’t feed him.” Tina giggled. “Maybe he’s really a werecat!”
    â€œMaybe we should bring Shalimar over to the Fear Street Woods!” Wendy joked.
    â€œHah!” Mrs. Bast’s barking laugh made Wendy jump. “A werecat would attack your Shalimar if he got in its way. Werecats and regular cats are mortal enemies.”
    â€œShal can take care of himself,” Tina insisted.
    â€œHe wouldn’t stand a chance with a werecat,” Mrs. Bast replied. “They run on pure instinct, and they are very powerful. And just like an ordinary cat, werecats are territorial. A werecat will defend its home to the death.”
    â€œWhy do they only appear after midnight?” Wendy asked. She didn’t believe a word Mrs. Bast said, but she liked any story about cats. Especially one that included Fear Street.
    â€œAll cats are nocturnal,” Mrs. Bast explained. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But late night is the time of the werecat. And as the moon grows fuller, the werecat grows wilder. There’s no way to predict what it will do.”
    â€œBut if they turn back into people by day, don’t they think like humans?” Wendy demanded.
    â€œDuring most of the month, there is a bit of thehuman left in a werecat,” Mrs. Bast agreed. “But when the moon is full, the human no longer has any control over the animal. And once the werecat experiences its first full moon, the transformation is complete.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Wendy asked.
    â€œAfter that first full moon, the werecat inside begins to do things—even in human form. Even during the day. The human and the cat