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illuminated the monster’s face, which was even closer than expected, and her heart nearly stopped. It growled, a deep rolling in its throat, and offered an intimate view of its tongue and ridged pallet through strings of saliva that decorated many deadly teeth. Teeth that would devour her at any moment.
    Closing its mouth, it sniffed her hair, a low vibration humming in the back of its throat. She closed her eyes, her heart sinking in preparation. It smelled of musk and moisture, as the whole forest around her smelled. Another sound from its throat, though not a growl, demanded her attention. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was—something akin to a hiss.
    In the brief moment she met the animal’s eyes, something changed. Strange, how out-of-place these eyes were, how unlike the rest of its features. True they were colossal and mysterious, but nothing close to frightening. They seemed curious of her, and their color was a deep, rich brown ringed by golden honey. Luminous as large glass marbles, they reflected the light like an animal’s, but they almost seemed human. These eyes knew something, held secrets captive.
    She rose to her elbows but the beast moved closer, making her crawl backwards like a crab until a tree blocked her from going any farther. She held its eyes, held her bravery. A sixth sense tugged at her, telling her this massive and terrifying creature wouldn’t kill her. “What…are you?” she breathed.
    Another rumble escaped its throat, and just as it backed away, allowing her life, a burst of fire shot from her left. The blast from Eustace’s shotgun still echoed through the trees, even as the beast was suddenly nowhere to be found. It howled from a distance away, probably shot through.
    “Come on,” Eustace said, pulling her to her feet. “Now we’ve really pissed it off.” They ran, Eustace pulling her along as though he was younger than she.
    And all she could wonder as she repeatedly looked behind them was whether the monster would survive the unfair gunshot.

Chapter 3
     
     
    Regina Washington—with a narrowed, cautious stare—poured Brian Dane another cup of steaming coffee, then returned her hand to her ample hip. She may not be able to refuse service here, but that didn’t mean she didn’t wish it. And oh, how she wished it for this sandy-haired ladies’ man. “Is that good for now?” she asked.
    “It’s always good when it comes from you,” Brian replied.
    She glared. Apparently women were going for the scruffy look these days. She’d even seen women her own age, thirty years his elder, be fooled by it. It was something she would never understand.
    While filling his mug with creamer, he winked his famous wink. It wasn’t enough creamer, though, since no amount would better this coffee. The Hemlock Diner was the only place serving coffee around here, but it was still a wonder folks came in to drink it. Oregonians may need their coffee just the same as they needed air, but Regina didn’t think this black, gritty stuff could really be considered coffee. She’d tried to better it, but never had enough time or money. And it didn’t matter anyway, because people still ordered it.
    Aside from being a coffee-crazed Oregonian, Brian ordered it because of Nicole. Usually, he had only two things on his mind: women and cars. He wasn’t just interested in the coffee; he was interested in getting glimpses of Nicole Eastwood from every angle. Nicole was Regina’s best waitress and, rumor had it, before she’d come to Hemlock Veils she’d tried to make it in acting. Regina had even heard she’d changed her last name to sound more like a movie star.
    Regardless of her objection to Brian’s foul mind, Regina’s job was to keep the customers coming, even at fifteen minutes to midnight—near closing time. If it was up to her, the Hemlock Diner would close at ten p.m., but when someone like Mr. Henry Clayton owns the place, you do as he says. Mr. Clayton owned nearly every place in