Night of the Werecat Read Free Page B

the cat in the mirror arch, too. She glanced around, confused and frightened.
    And saw the open window.
    Suddenly Wendy felt as if invisible hands were pulling her to the window.
    Outside. I must go outside.
    Wendy bounded across the room and jumped up onto the windowsill. She gazed down at the yard two stories below. She glanced across at the old oak tree. Its largest branch was about three feet from the window.
    Without even thinking, she leaped out the window. She landed easily on the branch, her sharp claws grasping the rough bark. She scurried down the tree trunk.
    She was out!
    Wendy loped across the dewy grass. She could see better than she ever had in daylight. The moon cast sharp shadows in the corners of the yard. She tracked dozens of tiny insects, crawling in the grass or flying through the air.
    Her sharp ears picked up sounds all over the neighborhood. She heard dogs growling, babies crying, people snoring. She even heard the rustling of birds in their nests.
    Wendy leaped up and over the backyard wall, into the alley. Strange and delicious odors floated all around her. Mmmmmmm. A wonderful fish smell came from the next-door neighbor’s garbage can. She jumped onto the can and began pawing at the lid.
    Before she could pry open the lid, a movement at the end of the alley drew her attention. Wendy sniffed the air until a strong scent filled her nostrils. Her cat-senses told her it was the scent of a mouse.
    Forgetting about the fish, she leaped off the garbage can. She streaked to the corner, where the mouse vanished into a thick tangle of grass and weeds. Wendy wasn’t bothered by its disappearance. She knew exactly where it was. She could hear its footsteps. She could hear its faint squeak.
    Her mouth began to water.
    Wendy hunched down, then sprang. Her paws landed on the mouse’s tail. The creature pulled away. It scampered deeper into the grass. Wendy let it go. For the moment. She was still just playing with the little rodent.
    Wendy hunched down again. Again, she pounced. And once more the mouse was under her paws. But now Wendy was ready for the game to be over. She extended her claws, ready to bring them down on the mouse.
    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
    A terrifying high-pitched wail filled the night air.
    *  *  *
    Wendy sat up. The terrible noise in her ears was the alarm clock. She punched it off.
    She blinked a few times. Her mind was still full of her adventures as a cat.
    What a cool dream, she thought, stretching. And it seemed so real. She loved cats so much, it was natural she’d dream about being one!
    Wendy climbed out of bed and put on her jeans and a blue shirt with an orange cat on the front. She stood at her dresser mirror and admired the werecat charm hanging around her neck. But she couldn’t let her parents see that she had bought more cat jewelry. Not yet. She tucked the charm under her shirt.
    She stuffed her sandy hair into a yellow scrunchie. Then she kneeled down to pull her shoes out from under the bed.
    And stopped in horror.
    There, right beside her sneaker, lay a dead mouse.

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    â€œY ikes!” Wendy yelped. She yanked her hand back. Yuck! She’d almost touched it!
    Where did that mouse come from? she wondered. Was the dream real? Did I really turn into a werecat last night?
    Wendy giggled. Yeah, right, she teased herself. Now you really are being cat-crazy.
    She glanced at the mouse and shivered. How was she going to get rid of it? Just the thought of touching the mouse made her feel sick.
    Her door banged open.
    â€œYo, Wendy!” Brad popped his head into her room. “You better move it if you want to ride with me to school.”
    â€œUh, I’m almost ready,” she told her brother. “There’s just one thing. . . .”
    â€œWhat?” Brad stepped into the room.
    Wendy scrunched up her face and pointed to the dead mouse.
    Brad glanced at the animal, then laughed. “How did that get in