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the chain-link rattling before I realized I’d pressed my back against it.
    With a snarl, the dog sprang. He slammed into the zombie and the pair crashed to the ground, rolling on impact. Something flew off and landed in the grass at my feet. Ethan had lost a finger.
    I worked my way down the fence, away from the pair. The dog caught an arm and with a twist of his head, ripped it off. I closed my eyes and tried not to lose the Big Mac I’d had for supper. It helped a little, but I couldn’t escape the sounds: the wet tearing, the snap of bone, the gurgling of a torn throat. Worse were the muffled snarls and the snapping of canine jaws. Oh please, don’t let him be eating the zombie.
    When everything went silent, I drew a deep breath and regretted it. The stench of rot overwhelmed me, but when I looked, the sight proved worse than the smell. The dog stood a few feet away, black fur covered in—were those intestines? I dropped to my knees and lost the Big Mac. When I looked up, both the duffle bag and the dog were gone.
    I took a shallow breath—just enough to allow me to speak. “James?”
    “Be right there.” His voice came from the other side of the tree, followed by the sound of a zipper. “You okay?”
    I drew another breath. I could do this. “I’m fine.” I wasn’t going to freak out. I rubbed a hand over my face and took a few minutes to get control of myself. My best friend was a dog. Cool. I liked dogs.
    Even giant black ones with glowing green eyes.
    I pushed to my feet, determined to take this in stride.
    James stepped around the tree, tugging a sweatshirt in place over a clean pair of jeans. His feet were bare, but aside from the tousled hair, he didn’t look any different. Most importantly, he wasn’t covered in zombie gore.
    He stopped beside the woman, eyes narrowing as he studied her. The way his lip curled made me suddenly uneasy. “Necro.” He spat the word.
    “What gave it away?” I walked over to him.
    He looked up, clearly surprised that I’d joined him. He probably expected a different reaction.
    “I hit her with Knockout Powder,” I continued, needing to say something. “Talk about a nut job.”
    “I hear it’s part of the job description.”
    I smiled at his attempt at humor. “Hanging with the dead probably isn’t conducive to good mental health.”
    He grunted, his eyes still on the unconscious woman.
    “I wonder what she’s doing here,” I said.
    “This is Cincinnati. A lot of necros live here. She probably took her pet for a walk.”
    “Oh.”
    We both fell silent. Now what? Should I say something or let him bring it up? Or would we both ignore the elephant—er, black dog—in the room?
    “Shall we go?” I asked. “If a cop drives by, I don’t want to be standing here with an unconscious woman and Ethan bits.”
    “Ethan?”
    “Her buddy.” I hooked a thumb in the direction of the zombie remains. My skin crawled as I thought about what lay in the grass. “He can’t—”
    “He’s done.” James shouldered the duffle bag. “You’d better drive.” He started for the car and I fell in beside him.
    “Is something wrong?”
    “Blood loss. I’ll need to sleep soon.”
    “Your shoulder?”
    “I’m fine.” His tone made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it.
    “Oh. Good.” I had so many questions, but his silence was contagious. I dug out a piece of gum from my jacket pocket and popped it in my mouth. Spearmint washed away the unpleasant impression Ethan had left.
    We reached the car, and I slid in behind the wheel, taking a moment to adjust the seat and mirrors. James slumped in the passenger seat, his head on the headrest and eyes closed. I decided not to bother him. He’d tell me when he was ready. Meanwhile, I could try to get my mind around it. James was a shapeshifter. It wasn’t a common ability. Could he heal himself when he changed? His shoulder didn’t seem to bother him, and there was no blood on his shirt.
    My mind ran in