Before I can tell whether my first effort has worked, I grope for something to distract Cole—anything that would divert his attention from the girl outside.
The plants are hardly animated enough when there’s a living being moving around nearby. The room holds nothing else alive except me and him, exactly to avoid this possibility.
With a flare of panic, I snatch at all the remaining ephemera I can quickly reach and whip it through the basement in the opposite direction from the hall. Saturate it with a promise of warmth and food and safety that should lure any creatures lurking in the walls.
A moment later, a mouse comes scurrying out from behind the storage cabinets.
It’s so small and fragile-looking with its tiny pink ears and spindly feet that guilt jabs my stomach.
Footsteps thump outside, getting fainter this time—but Cole’s ears swivel with the sound. His lips draw back from his fangs.
With a lurch of my pulse, I drag my magical lure in front of the mouse, tempting it farther out across the floor, shielding the scent of the predator looming nearby. As it darts forward, Cole’s head jerks toward the movement.
Yes, that’s right. Here’s a much easier target.
The mouse comes to a stop in front of one of the plants, its whiskers trembling. I hold it there, fear and regret congealing inside me.
Better this little animal than the girl outside.
Maybe Cole’s glim couldn’t have attacked the girl through the wall anyway. But maybe he’d have smashed the door down to get to her if I hadn’t offered a somewhat compelling alternative.
The glint that showed in his eyes earlier flares into a sudden glow. The mouse’s body twitches.
I release the magic corralling it, but it’s too late for the poor creature. It stumbles away and lurches with a squeaky sort-of cough.
Its legs crumple under it. It slumps over on its furry side.
Cole shivers too. He gives a soft snarl, shakes his wolfish frame, and digs his claws deeper into the linoleum.
Then, with a deeper shudder, he hunches over.
The contraction into his human form is nearly as unnerving to witness as the initial transformation. His canine snout pulls into his face; his body shrinks in on itself. Fabric bursts across his skin in place of the fur.
With a grunt, he sinks onto the floor on his ass. Still staring at the mouse.
He rubs his hand over his face. Glances at the gouges in the linoleum. Finally seems to recognize me still standing a couple of feet away.
His voice comes out in a croak. “What—what was that? This feeling came over me… Like I could see every awful thing that might happen to it…”
He looks at the mouse again. “I did that. I saw a sudden aneurism that could burst… and it happened. Imadeit happen, didn’t I?”
I offer a tight smile. “I told you it was hard to explain. The best we could figure is that when you’re in wolf form, you can sense the worst possible fates that could happen to a living thing—and push any of those fates forward. You found a few references to similar glims in the past… People have called lucents like that a ‘fenris.’”
“A fenris,” Cole repeats, still dazed. His gaze twitches toward the door. “There was someone out there?—”
I haven’t heard a peep from the girl since I warded her away. “I think I scared her off. We’ll have to keep an eye outwhile we’re leaving, but she’s probably hurried all the way off campus.”
Cole blinks a few times. He pulls himself to his feet.
Peering down at the mouse and the plants next to it, his brow furrows. “My glim works on living things. You wanted me to give a plant a bad fate.”
I splay my arms. “It seemed like the least horrifying route.”
His attention snaps to me. His face tightens even more. “What if I’d done it toyou?”
The horror in his expression batters my heart nearly as much as his devotion earlier.
I take a step toward him, my hand itching to rise to his face. To touch him all the ways I can now without worrying about the consequences.