Free Werewolf Weekend by B. A. Frade, Stacia Deutsch Page B

werewolf.”
    He didn’t start laughing, so that was a start. “What makes you think so?”
    I was going to give him my list of clues but decided to go the direct route. I grabbed the journal and held it out so he could see it. “This book told me.”
    â€œHuh?”
    I should have expected that.
    â€œThe Scaremaster is the author of the journal. His stories appear, then disappear.”
    â€œGo on,” he said, still not laughing.
    â€œThe first story was about a girl, who thought she was rescuing a puppy, only it wasn’t a dog at all. At the end, there was a big secret about it.” I paused, gauging his reaction, and, when he didn’t say anything, went on. “In this new story, the girl discovers it was a werewolf who bit her. The first time she transformed at a full moon, she prowled the neighborhood at night, terrorizing small animals, searching for prey. She didn’t catch anything and went to bed hungry.” I went on. “The next time she changed, her sister locked her into her room. When she snapped out of it the following morning, there was fresh blood on the carpet. No one could explain what had happened. One thing was sure: She wasn’t hungry anymore.” I shuddered. “She knows she’s a wolf, but she can’t remember what happens while she’s transformed—which makes it all even more dangerous.”
    Retelling this was horrifying. The story was so eerie, I didn’t really want to say it out loud, but I really needed Duke to believe me.
    â€œThere was a second chapter to this one,” I told him. “It starts in the park—during a moonlit walk. Four girls are out, looking at the full moon. The girl transforms into the werewolf.”
    I knew which one but didn’t say. Not yet.
    â€œThe werewolf chases everyone into a heavily wooded area, then corners them, one by one. First, the wolf bites her own cousin.” I repeated the word “cousin” so he’d understand I was talking about Sam. “She instantly changes into a werewolf too. The other girl goes for help, but she never comes back.”
    I knew who that part referred to also. By the process of elimination, there was only one girl left. Not Sam. And not Cassie, who was the werewolf. That left Riley as the one who disappeared, because next was my part.
    â€œTogether, the two werewolf-cousins chase a girl called Emma into the basement.” I couldn’t see Duke’s face clearly but could tell he was listening, so I went on. “I’m not kidding. The only girl with a name in the story is
me
.” I leaned as far out the window as I could without falling and told him, “The whole story started ‘Once upon a time, there was a girl named Emma.…’” They all did. The Scaremaster wasn’t very creative about the way his stories began.
    Duke stared at me. “So… based on a story in a supposedly magical book starring girls with no names, you think Sam is in danger?”
    When he put it that way, it did sound like something I was making up.
    â€œI’m telling you, Duke—it’s not a coincidence. I can easily guess the two girls are Sam and Riley and that the wolf is Cassie. Plus, the park sounds like the one nearby: trees on one side, playground on the other, with thick grass between.” I had one last bit of evidence. “And the basement in the story is the exact same as the one in this house!”
    â€œWhat happens to the girl in the basement?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s awful,” I said, closing my eyes to keep from crying. “The werewolf corners Emma, I mean me, under the single hanging lightbulb. I scream and scream, but no one comes to save me.” My voice broke with the stress of it all.
    That was the end.
    In a long silence, I stared down at Duke. His face was pale in the light. He must have been afraid. I thought he’d go grab a weapon or something and rush