to each kid.
Tristan peered at the dark, wine-colored liquid in the silver cup. He raised it to his nose and sniffed it.
A slightly sweet aroma.
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t taste bad,” Mr. Moonsaid. “In fact, I think you will like the taste.”
“What is it?” Ray asked, staring into his cup. “It isn’t blood—is it?”
Mr. Moon laughed. “Would you like that, Ray? Would you like a nice, warn cup of fresh blood right now? Is that what you crave?”
Ray rolled his eyes. “I just asked,” he replied. “I mean…it looks like blood.”
“The moon is getting high, Ray,” Mr. Moon said, motioning to the barred window. “Are you starting to feel yourself change? Are you starting to feel your wolf nature rise? Are you suddenly hungry for a nice drink of blood?”
Ray shook his head and didn’t answer.
Holding her silver goblet in front of her, Bella stepped up to Mr. Moon. “What are you going to do when the clock strikes midnight and no one turns into a werewolf?” she asked. “What are you going to do then?”
Mr. Moon gazed at the pile of skins on the floor in the next room. He turned a cold smile on Bella. “I’ve never been wrong before,” he said softly.
“Drink up, everyone,” Angela said cheerfully.
“What you hold in your goblets is called wolf-bane ,” Mr. Moon explained. “One of you has probably been warned about wolfbane. It’s an herb discovered by people in the forests of middle Europe.”
“It’s used to keep werewolves away,” Angela added.
“It’s one of the few things that works against them.”
“Yes. Werewolves are allergic to wolfbane,” Mr. Moon said. “It poisons them. They cannot drink it.”
Tristan gazed into the goblet. He tilted it slightly. The dark liquid was thick, like motor oil.
“Angela and I mixed the wolfbane herb in the liquid ourselves. It’s a very strong mixture—instant death for a werewolf,” Mr. Moon said.
He motioned for them to raise their glasses. “We’re all going to drink now,” he said.
Once again his eyes moved down the line of kids and came to rest on Tristan.
“Three of you will drink the wolfbane down easily. One of you won’t be able to drink it. And then we will know. We will know….”
Tristan glanced at Ray. Ray made a disgusted face as he raised the goblet.
Rosa had her eyes on Tristan. She tilted the cup toward him as if making a toast.
“Drink up,” Mr. Moon ordered. “Now. Drink up, everyone. The cage is waiting. Let’s see who our werewolf is tonight.”
Tristan lifted the rim of the cup to his lips—
—and the doorbell rang.
19
Mr. Moon and his wife turned to the front hall. “Who could that be?” Angela asked.
“Don’t anyone move,” Mr. Moon ordered.
They both hurried to the door.
Tristan set his cup on the table. “Come on—” he whispered. “This is our chance. Let’s get out of here!”
“Now we can try the kitchen,” Ray said.
No one said another word. They all set their goblets on the table and took off.
Tristan found his way into the kitchen. He ran past the disgusting tray of animal parts on the counter.
The kitchen had one narrow window looking onto the backyard. Tristan tugged back the curtains.
“Oh no”
The window was barred like all the others.
Ray hurried to the kitchen door and struggled to open it. He twisted the brass knob one way, then the other. He tried pulling. Then he lowered his shoulder to the door and pushed hard.
“It won’t budge,” he groaned.
“The doors are bolted electronically,” Tristan said. “Like the bars on the windows.”
“There has to be a way out!” Bella cried. “I—I can’t stand this anymore!”
Rosa placed a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out,” she said.
“But—how?” Ray cried, glancing around the big room frantically.
“The basement!” Tristan cried. “Maybe there is a way out through the basement.”
“If there are windows…” Ray muttered.
“But how do we
Tristan peered at the dark, wine-colored liquid in the silver cup. He raised it to his nose and sniffed it.
A slightly sweet aroma.
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t taste bad,” Mr. Moonsaid. “In fact, I think you will like the taste.”
“What is it?” Ray asked, staring into his cup. “It isn’t blood—is it?”
Mr. Moon laughed. “Would you like that, Ray? Would you like a nice, warn cup of fresh blood right now? Is that what you crave?”
Ray rolled his eyes. “I just asked,” he replied. “I mean…it looks like blood.”
“The moon is getting high, Ray,” Mr. Moon said, motioning to the barred window. “Are you starting to feel yourself change? Are you starting to feel your wolf nature rise? Are you suddenly hungry for a nice drink of blood?”
Ray shook his head and didn’t answer.
Holding her silver goblet in front of her, Bella stepped up to Mr. Moon. “What are you going to do when the clock strikes midnight and no one turns into a werewolf?” she asked. “What are you going to do then?”
Mr. Moon gazed at the pile of skins on the floor in the next room. He turned a cold smile on Bella. “I’ve never been wrong before,” he said softly.
“Drink up, everyone,” Angela said cheerfully.
“What you hold in your goblets is called wolf-bane ,” Mr. Moon explained. “One of you has probably been warned about wolfbane. It’s an herb discovered by people in the forests of middle Europe.”
“It’s used to keep werewolves away,” Angela added.
“It’s one of the few things that works against them.”
“Yes. Werewolves are allergic to wolfbane,” Mr. Moon said. “It poisons them. They cannot drink it.”
Tristan gazed into the goblet. He tilted it slightly. The dark liquid was thick, like motor oil.
“Angela and I mixed the wolfbane herb in the liquid ourselves. It’s a very strong mixture—instant death for a werewolf,” Mr. Moon said.
He motioned for them to raise their glasses. “We’re all going to drink now,” he said.
Once again his eyes moved down the line of kids and came to rest on Tristan.
“Three of you will drink the wolfbane down easily. One of you won’t be able to drink it. And then we will know. We will know….”
Tristan glanced at Ray. Ray made a disgusted face as he raised the goblet.
Rosa had her eyes on Tristan. She tilted the cup toward him as if making a toast.
“Drink up,” Mr. Moon ordered. “Now. Drink up, everyone. The cage is waiting. Let’s see who our werewolf is tonight.”
Tristan lifted the rim of the cup to his lips—
—and the doorbell rang.
19
Mr. Moon and his wife turned to the front hall. “Who could that be?” Angela asked.
“Don’t anyone move,” Mr. Moon ordered.
They both hurried to the door.
Tristan set his cup on the table. “Come on—” he whispered. “This is our chance. Let’s get out of here!”
“Now we can try the kitchen,” Ray said.
No one said another word. They all set their goblets on the table and took off.
Tristan found his way into the kitchen. He ran past the disgusting tray of animal parts on the counter.
The kitchen had one narrow window looking onto the backyard. Tristan tugged back the curtains.
“Oh no”
The window was barred like all the others.
Ray hurried to the kitchen door and struggled to open it. He twisted the brass knob one way, then the other. He tried pulling. Then he lowered his shoulder to the door and pushed hard.
“It won’t budge,” he groaned.
“The doors are bolted electronically,” Tristan said. “Like the bars on the windows.”
“There has to be a way out!” Bella cried. “I—I can’t stand this anymore!”
Rosa placed a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out,” she said.
“But—how?” Ray cried, glancing around the big room frantically.
“The basement!” Tristan cried. “Maybe there is a way out through the basement.”
“If there are windows…” Ray muttered.
“But how do we
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