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"What?"

"It knows who we are."

The words have barely left his mouth when the entity moves. Straight toward him. Not toward Rhett. Not toward me. Toward Sayer. It crosses twenty feet in less than a heartbeat.

The windows rattle violently. Every light explodes into blinding brightness before plunging the room into darkness. The backup batteries activate seconds later. Long enough for panic to find us.

"Sayer!"

"I'm here!"

I grab his arm. He is shaking. Not with fear. With effort.

"It's pulling."

"What is?"

"My head."

His feet begin sliding across the hardwood floor. Not because something is physically dragging him. Because he's unconsciously walking. Toward the front door. Toward it.

"Sayer!"

"I don't..."

His voice sounds distant.

"...can't stop..."

I throw both arms around him. He freezes. For one second. Then continues straining toward the door with frightening determination.

It's like trying to hold back someone sleepwalking. His eyes are open. But they aren't seeing me.

Outside—

A roar. Not human. Not entirely wolf. Rhett.

The pressure inside the house breaks instantly. Sayer collapses against me.

I pull him behind the kitchen island just as the front door bursts open.

Rhett. Only…

Not entirely.

His eyes burn molten gold. Dark fur spreads across his forearms and neck. His hands have become massive claws capable of splitting hardwood. His shoulders are broader. His movements impossibly fast.

This isn't the controlled partial shift I've seen before. This is something deeper. Something ancient. He doesn't look frightening. He looks inevitable.

The entity meets him halfway across the yard. The collision shakes the ground hard enough to knock framed pictures crooked on the walls. Leaves erupt into a swirling cyclone.

Halloween decorations throughout the neighborhood begin moving wildly. Plastic ghosts twist on invisible strings. Jack-o'-lanterns topple from porch railings. A mechanical witch starts laughing without anyone activating it.

Outside, the impossible battle unfolds. The entity lashes forward in ribbons of shifting darkness. Rhett tears through them with raw force. Every strike scatters fragments that immediately pull themselves back together.

"It's adapting," I whisper.

No.