Matthew stood firm, facing him down. Joel pushed both hands flat against Matthew's chest. Matthew dug his heels in. Joel pushed again, harder this time, and Matthew ceded a step, then pushed back.

"Would you rather have a pissing contest?" Matthew said. "You never know, you might even be able to win that one."

Baring his teeth in a snarl, Joel launched a fist at Matthew's face.

Unlike Jack, Matthew hadn't grown more than about six inches in height since reaching puberty. In Paris, his mother had finally allowed him to attend school. Being smaller than most of the other kids, Matthew had soon learned that the only way to stop the bullies from making his life a misery was to give as good as he got.

Now, drawing on the memories, he easily dodged Joel's blow and landed one of his own, sending Joel to the ground.

Suddenly ashamed of himself at the sight of blood on Joel's lip, Matthew reached a hand down to help him up. "Enough," he said. "I'm sorry, Joel. Let's just call it a night, okay?"

Batting Matthew's hand aside, Joel pushed himself to his feet. "Oh, you'll be sorry, all right," he growled. There was a shimmer in the air, and suddenly Matthew found himself facing an angry, snarling wolf, Joel's clothes lying empty on the flagstones.

What on earth? Matthew swallowed hard, glancing first toward the door of the inn, then back at the beautiful, deadly creature standing between him and salvation. There was no way he'd be able reach the door before the Joel-beast took him down.

As Matthew hesitated, the wolf lunged toward him. Given no other option, Matthew turned and ran.

The cool of the flagstones gave way to warmer asphalt as Matthew headed instinctively for the woods, his place of sanctuary, the place he'd always felt safe with Jack. Which is stupid, if you think about it, the rational part of his mind kicked in. The woods are not safe. There are wolves in the woods. Mother said so.

"Yeah, right," Matthew panted. "There are wolves out here, too!" Joel was loping easily at his heels, playing with him, giving an occasional nip at his ankles to chivvy him along. Matthew carried on running -- what else could he do?

Matthew's pace slowed as he entered the woods, the twigs on the ground stabbing into the delicate soles of his shoeless feet. He gave a little sob as he remembered his last flight through these trees, the day Jack had hit him, the day his life had changed forever. Oh, God, Jack, he projected silently. Where are you? I need you!

A low growl sounded behind him, and he felt the sudden weight of the wolf on his back. Stumbling, he fell to the ground; his head struck an exposed root, and the world went black.