Mr. Sampson scooted closer to me, keeping his eyes averted while I tried to pull my sweatshirt back together. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I sniffed, realizing that I was crying. “Mr. Sampson, what is he going to do to us? Are we going to die? I don’t want to die. There’s so much I haven’t done in my life. I’ve never even ridden the Matterhorn!”
Mr. Sampson put his hand on my cheek, and I melted into the soft warmth of his palm. He looked deeply into my eyes and sharply bit off each word. “Sophie, you are not going to die. We are going to figure out a way out of here. And if we don’t, Parker and Nina will come looking for you.”
I stuck out my lower lip, and Mr. Sampson disappeared behind a fresh torrent of hot tears. “Parker won’t come looking for me.”
“Yes, he will, Sophie.”
“No he won’t. Why would he? I stabbed him.”
Mr. Sampson’s eyebrows shot up. “You stabbed him?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was a good guy. I was trying to get away and so I stabbed him. With a fork.”
Mr. Sampson tried to hide his smile. “Well, I’m sure all you did was slow him down a little bit. I’m certain it will take more than flatware to get Detective Grace off the case.”
We both stared up as Chief Oliver came thundering down the stairs. He paused midstep and wrinkled his nose, frowning. “Detective Grace?” he asked.
Mr. Sampson’s eyes went hard and flat as he stared Chief Oliver down. The chief blew out a sigh that ruffled his fat cheeks. “Never mind.” He spun a set of rubber tubes in his hands, and my stomach dropped.
“Okay,” the chief said, stepping down and positioning himself in front of a heavy velvet curtain. “Showtime.”
My mouth went dry as Chief Oliver pushed the curtain aside with a delighted flourish. He exposed a long table draped with chains and then turned and grinned at me over his shoulder. My heart thumped, and I pushed myself back until my shoulder blades went flush with the concrete wall behind me. Chief Oliver pushed the sleeves of his Snuggie up and came toward me. I scrunched my eyes shut, dipping my head into the folds of my torn sweatshirt, my breath ragged, my heart thundering. I prayed to disappear, to wake up, for the earth to open up and swallow me—anything—to keep Chief Oliver from getting any closer to me.
I heard chains rattle and the scratch of fingernails dragging across concrete. Then a low, menacing growl. “You stay away from her, Oliver.”
I opened my eyes and tried not to gape; Mr. Sampson’s shirt was splitting all the way down the arms, exposing bulging, pulsing muscles lined with soft, brown downy fur. His pants had split the same way, and I was staring at hind flanks and thick legs that were pulling taut against his chains. Mr. Sampson’s elegant hands had morphed into heavy, clawed paws, with long, black nails gripping at the concrete. His lips were thin and curled back against a row of sharp canine teeth, glistening with saliva. Even hunched on all fours, he was taller than I was standing up.
“Mr. Sampson?” I whispered.
One pointed, brown wolf ear twitched, but Mr. Sampson did not turn to face me. He kept his dark eyes trained on the chief, those sharp teeth exposed, the growl still low and rumbling as it emanated from his thick barrel chest.
Chief Oliver bent down and slapped his knees with his palms, laughing. “Aw! The puppy is very protective of his little girlfriend, isn’t he?” He wiped his eyes with his balled fists and chuckled some more. “That’s just precious.”
Mr. Sampson’s eyes narrowed, and his growl rumbled even deeper, louder, his shoulders tensing. I could hear the slow tear of the fabric of his shirt as his thick shoulder blades, covered still with that downy brown fur, became exposed. He nipped at the air, just a few centimeters from Chief Oliver’s fat jowls. Mr. Sampson’s jaws clamped shut with a frightening snap, bits of saliva spraying on the concrete. Chief Oliver’s head jerked back, and then he laughed, a roaring, horrible laugh and delivered a closed-fist thump to the top of Mr. Sampson’s head. The sound of the heavy smack of hand to head made my eyes water, and my heart broke when I heard Mr. Sampson’s pained squeal.