Marmee saw. You well know that since the war began and the men followed it off, women have had to step in to do everything.”

“Do you suppose, when the men return from the war, that they will slaughter all the werewolves because they have slaughtered some of our people?” one girl asked nobody in particular. “Perhaps they will all be killed off then.”

“There are a lot of them to kill!” said Jo. “Have they ever not been among us in great numbers?”

“I think not,” answered one girl. “My grandfather once told me that when he was my age, his grandfather told him stories of large packs of werewolves from his childhood, and that at that time, most of the population were werewolves.”

“Do you mean from the childhood of your grandfather’s grandfather?”

“Yes!”

“That was a very, very long time ago!”

“Yes, decades and decades.”

“It hardly sounds possible.”

“But it is,” Jo said immediately. “Father has always told us that our families have lived with the werewolves in this area for many generations. He said we must welcome them as we would any other neighbor, but to just be careful and never tempt fate when the moon is full.”

“But we seldom know who they are. It’s hard to protect oneself against enemies you cannot name,” Amy said.

“Then, as Father would suggest,” said Beth, “treat everyone with kindness, but be well aware that the devil knows how to tempt us all.”

“Not everyone is as kind and forgiving as your father, though,” one girl reminded them all. “Most people in this town applaud those helmeted men who happily hunt and kill the werewolves.”

“Yes, and I imagine, once the others get back from their war, their bloodlust will be boiling over for the want of spilling more.”

“I would much rather become a werewolf than be eaten by one,” said one girl.

“I would rather go to my eternal reward than reside as a being who had to hide itself from the world,” said Amy assuredly.

“A werewolf sympathizer must hide just as well,” Jo reminded her. “They are forced to live in as great a fear as the werewolves, as the penalty for being such is far too similar. Is this war not producing enough blood for them? Why must they also don uniforms and declare enemies?”

“Well, they could never accuse me of sympathizing with werewolves,” the dark-haired girl declared. “I would like to see them all dead.”

“No need for that,” Jo fumed. “We have learned well to coexist.”

“Coexist? You believe that?”

“Absolutely. Once each month, we barricade ourselves against them, and the rest of the time we put them out of our minds,” said Jo, widening her stance for effect.

“I want to hear no more of werewolves!” Amy cried, pale and trembling. “I cannot bear another word, or I shall not sleep a wink tonight for fear of dreaming of enormous packs of them circling this house.”

Hannah appeared suddenly, announcing that supper awaited them below. The sisters looked at one another questioningly as their guests followed Hannah downstairs. There had been no money for supper. What could Marmee have found to serve?

“You two go on ahead while we get out of our costumes,” Jo told Amy and Meg, who made short work of bounding from the room and down the stairs.

Jo scratched her chin where the beard was glued on, as she peered out the window. The window looked down into Mr. Laurence’s large, lovely house. She inhaled with a gasp as she saw Mr. Laurence’s handsome dark-haired grandson standing in the moonlight. He wore no shirt. The view did not allow her to see if he wore trousers, for the angle down cut him off at midchest, but the sight of his muscled shoulders and chest made her heart twirl.

“Beth! Come see!” she whispered.

The sisters stood, watching breathlessly, as the moonlight caught his eyes, which shone like jewels as he stared with longing at the moon. His head jerked once, and then again, as his face distorted and lengthened. His neck stretched, thickened, and darkened with sprouting hair. He stared up to the ceiling as his nose and mouth stretched out into a muzzle, and his ears grew up and out. Dripping, pointed teeth pushed out from his open mouth as he writhed in what appeared to be intense pain. Hair began to grow and fall quickly over his skin as his shoulders thrust forward. And then he dropped down and could be seen no longer.

Jo stood transfixed, a chill running up her spine.