Feast (Harvest of Dreams #1)

“A bear?” The woman repeated the words in a loud voice.

So much for a low profile. “Well, I don’t actually know what it was. Could have been a flying monkey for all I know. I only saw it for a second, but my dog bit it and there was blood and I think—”

“Sounds like chupacabras,” the man holding the box-animal said. “But there wasn’t a full moon last night. They only come out during a full moon, that’s what I say. Every other day of the month is—”

“—That’s enough, Joe. No need to scare the tourists away.” Then the receptionist pointed to an open door. “Take him in there. The doctor will be right in. But you better wait out here, young man,” she said to Tucker. “Just in case your dog needs a shot.”


I settled into an uncomfortable molded plastic chair, hoping I wouldn’t have to wait long. Surprisingly, only a couple of moments passed before the doctor came in. He gave me a half smile and closed the door. He was unshaven, his clothes were wrinkled beneath his lab coat and he looked exhausted. Didn’t anybody in this town get any sleep?

“I’m Dr. Ross Madera,” he said as he shook my hand. “I understand you think your dog bit someone last night?”

“Something. He bit something.”

“Right. I’m sorry. That’s what I meant.” He flashed a charming grin. “I guess I think animals are people. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I woke up last night and there was this big, I mean really big, animal in the living room, with wings and claws”—I expected him to laugh at this point, but he just nodded his head—“and then my dog came running out of the bedroom, growling and barking, and he jumped up and bit it. Whatever the hell it was.”

“I see. Are his rabies shots current?”

“Then it just disappeared—” I paused. “What?”

“His rabies vaccinations, are they up to date?” He smiled again.

“Yeah. But then this morning, the dog started running around the house, growling and sniffing—”

“Was there blood on the floor?”

“No, just a little on his muzzle. But I wiped it off.”

“He could probably still smell the blood and thought that the animal, whatever it was, was still in the house.”

“That’s all? He was smelling the blood?” I sank back into the chair, felt the tension flowing out of my body, hadn’t even realized that there had been a knot in the back of my neck. “I thought he was rabid or something. Believe it or not, I even—I even thought that I saw him turn into a shadowy monster himself. As big as a werewolf.”

“No.” Dr. Madera gave me an astonished look, then he glanced down at the dog. “That’s impossible. That couldn’t happen.”

I laughed. “Which part’s impossible? That a monster broke into my house or that my dog turned into a werewolf?”

He didn’t say anything, almost as if I had caught him off guard. Then suddenly some idea flashed in his eyes. “Did you go for a hike down by the creek recently?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s possible that you wandered into a patch of deadly nightshade. It used to grow down by the falls. I’m not saying it’s common, but it could have gotten onto your skin or in your nasal passages. Nightshade’s been known to cause hallucinations.”

“Really? So my dog’s okay?”

“We’ll give him a round of antibiotics, just to be safe.” He wrote something on a chart, then stared down at my paperwork for a long moment, silently mouthing a few words. My name. I’d seen this before—that strange flicker of recognition, the connection with my pen name, although it usually happened at sci-fi conventions. And it was almost always a teenage boy, teetering on the awkward precipice of manhood.

“Madeline MacFaddin.” He lifted his head. “You wouldn’t be Mad Mac, would you?”

I was going to smile, maybe flirt just a bit, but that was when Samwise decided he’d had enough. He jerked the leash out of my hand and lunged for the door. With a fierce head butt, he shoved it open and then scrambled into the reception room.

“Sam, no!” I jumped from my seat and tried to grab the leash, but it was already out of reach. The dog was skating across the highly polished floor like he was on a mission. That was when I realized that the animal-in-the-box, a long, furry, weaselly-looking creature, had just pried its way out of the box and was now scrambling up the desk. The receptionist stared at it wide-eyed, then it leaped toward her head. The woman screamed and ran. As if that was exactly what it wanted, the creature scurried down the hallway after her.

And now Samwise bounded after both of them.

“Stop! No! Stay!” I tried every command I could think of. “Sit! Get over here, right now!” Tucker jumped up from his chair and together we both chased after the dog. “Leave it, stop, down, sit, sit, sit!”

Finally, one of the commands took hold.

The dog lay down at the end of the hall.

One paw on top of the ferret, holding it in place.

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