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“It looks like he might have some kind of sepsis developing.”
    “Sepsis?”
    “Blood poisoning,” the Fennrys Wolf said.
    “And it’s spreading fast, from the looks of it,” Toby muttered. “Too fast. That shouldn’t be possible. Those … things out there must have been venomous.”
    Mason and Heather exchanged a stricken glance.
    “Do something!” Heather exclaimed. “Help him! Where’s the first-aid kit?”
    Toby huffed in frustration and stood. “It’s in the gym office. Out there .” He glanced at the door. “And Band-Aids and iodine aren’t going to do a lot of good for him if he goes into septic shock.”
    The stranger’s brow creased in a deep frown. He stepped forward, as if he meant to push past Toby—who put out an arm, barring his way. Wordlessly, Toby eyed the sword in the young man’s fist.
    The Fennrys Wolf looked down at the weapon, then he spun the blade expertly in his palm and handed it over, hilt first—to Mason, who was too surprised to do anything but take it. His mouth ticked upward again in that half grin. Mason got the feeling that he didn’t ever actually smile.
    “I think I should take a look at your boy there,” he said to Toby.
    Toby stared at him for a moment, then took a step to the side. The strange young man kneeled down beside Cal and carefully pulled the torn edges of his T-shirt away from his shoulder wound. Mason saw Heather turn away, a sickened expression on her gorgeous face. There were three ragged parallel slashes across Cal’s pectoral muscle that seeped blood but looked—hopefully—like they weren’t too deep. The worrying thing, though, was the spidery network of angry dark lines that had begun to spread outward, creeping just under the surface of Cal’s skin on both his face and chest.
    The Fennrys Wolf sat back on his haunches and, for a moment, looked lost. Confusion chased through his gaze, but he shook his head sharply and his nostrils flared. His eyes fell closed, and one hand reached up and his long fingers closed around an iron medallion that hung from a leather cord around his neck. It was the only thing he’d been wearing. Mason watched as he began to murmur under his breath, his other hand hovering over Cal’s prone form.
    “Toby,” Rory said behind her in a low voice, “what are you doing? Why are you letting that guy anywhere near Cal?”
    “If he’d wanted to harm any of us, he could have just left us out there, Rory,” Toby answered quietly. “With those things. As it stands right now, I don’t have any way to help Calum. Maybe he does.”
    The strange young man hunched over Cal. “I could use a little light,” he said.
    Mason took the flashlight from Toby and held it out. The Fennrys Wolf reached back and positioned her arm so he could see better but, whatever it was he was doing, it was blocked from Mason’s line of sight. All she knew was that he was concentrating very hard, muttering just under his breath. She couldn’t quite make out the words, but Mason had the feeling that, even if she could have, she still wouldn’t have been able to understand them.
    Slowly, like an invisible ground mist seeping up out of the floor, Mason felt the air of the storeroom begin to change character. As if it was becoming electrically charged. Her feet and then her legs began to tingle slightly, like a current was running through the floor. Mason’s stomach tightened, and she could hear the beating of her heart.
    And then she thought she could hear Cal’s …
    Then the Fennrys Wolf’s …
    What is this guy, like some kind of shaman or something? Mason wondered. That was ridiculous. But then so was the idea that they’d been attacked by monsters. I do not believe in supernatural creatures , Mason said to herself firmly. There has to be a rational explanation for all of this. There is no boogeyman .
    Finally, after several long, anxious minutes, the stranger’s shoulders slumped, and he sat back against an equipment rack. The