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world. The wagons and tents had been set up on an empty lot on the
    outskirts of a prosperous Nevada mining town. He'd sneaked into the main tent and hid
    behind the risers to watch the show, until a member of the crew had caught him and
    booted him off the lot.

    That boy had not remained a child much longer.

    "How
    " He cleared his throat, remembering how to move his lips and tongue. "How
    long?”

    "How long have you been with us?" Harry French nibbled the edge of his moustache.
    "Six days, I believe. Yes, six. You've made quite a remarkable recovery. A bit more rest,
    that's all you need." He beamed and rocked back on his heels. "We are your friends. No
    need to tell us anything you don't wish. You can rest assured that we won't give your
    secret away—no, no. We understand.”

    Your secret. Morgan stiffened and slowly relaxed again. His anonymous rescuers could
    not know anything of his past, but they had seen him Change and hadn't the sense to
    be afraid.

    "We're all a little odd here, you see," French said, as if he had guessed Morgan's
    thoughts. "Oh, we're nothing at all like the big railroad outfits, with the poor creatures in
    cages and great star performers. I like to think of us as a family, a family of very special
    people. Those who have no other place to go—they find their way to me, sooner or
    later, just as you have.”

    He drew a pocketwatch from his vest, glanced at the face, and stuffed it back in. "Dear,
    oh, dear. I had promised to speak to Strauss about the food stores. Strauss is our chief
    cook. We are running low on victuals, and I fear my accounting skills have never been—
    To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
    Page 28 of 410
    " He broke off with an apologetic sigh. "You must think me quite addled. We have not
    been as prosperous of late as we might wish. A series of misfortunes—bad luck, as it
    were. That is why we are camped here in the wilderness and cannot offer you a decent
    hotel bed. I do so worry about my children, and what will become of us—but I am
    confident our luck has changed. Yes, indeed. You will meet the others soon." He
    glanced at his watch again. "You will excuse me, dear boy? I'll send someone with food
    and drink straightaway.”

    Before Morgan could frame a belated response, French was out of the tent. His words
    resounded in Morgan's sensitive ears for several minutes after he left.

    But what he had said aroused more feelings Morgan had abandoned as a wolf: worry,
    consternation, and fear. Not the sensible respect for nature's fickleness or the hunter's
    gun, but a dread far more nebulous.

    "He won't die. He came here for a reason, I know it. To help us, as we help him
    We've
    needed a miracle. ... He is the good luck we have waited for
    ”

    Premonitions of a fate worse than mere death seized Morgan with renewed urgency. He
    braced himself on his arms and pushed up again, relieved to find that his body
    functioned in spite of the pain. He could escape. It was not too late.

    There was only one way to learn if he was healed enough. He closed his eyes and
    willed the Change.

    Deep inside his body, the core of his being began to shift. He felt it, not as pain, but a
    natural transition. It was as if each atom became fluid and reshaped itself like clay in the
    hands of a master potter.

    But the Change did not complete. It met the barrier of his injury and paused, forcing his
    body to make a decision based upon a single law: survival.
    To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
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    Survival meant preserving strength instead of draining it for the Change. Morgan
    opened his eyes and found himself unrecognizable, neither wolf nor human. A monster.

    Instinct made the decision for him. He returned to human shape. Dizziness and nausea
    held him immobile for a few seconds, but he pressed beyond his body's exhaustion and
    clambered to his feet. Sheer determination propelled him toward the sliver of dimming
    light that marked the tent's