"Evil!" Without actually touching down, he twisted in midair, hit the floor running, and raced back into the hall.

That was enough for Dean. Hands under Claire's armpits, he half carried, half dragged her out of the room. When her legs cleared the threshold, he reached over her and pulled the door closed. The damage he'd done to the lock plate meant it no longer latched, but he managed to jam it shut.

Pressed tight against Dean's chest, her head tucked into the hollow of his throat, Claire shoved on the arm holding her in place. While she appreciated him catching her before her skull smacked into the floor, his interference in something he had no hope of understanding created the distinct desire to drive her elbow in under his ribs as far as it would go. Only the certain knowledge that any blow would bounce harmlessly off the rippled muscle she could feel through the thin barrier of the T-shirt prevented her. That, and the way the position she found herself in radically restricted her movements. Not to mention her ability to breathe. "Let go of me!" she gasped. "Now!"

He jerked and looked down at her like he'd forgotten she was there but eased up enough so she could squirm free. Wedging her shoulder under his, she managed to get him out of the doorway.

His back against the wall. Dean slid down to sit on the hall floor, feeling much as he had at ten when the local bully had smacked him around with a dead cod. "The cat talked."

Having just reached Austin's side, Claire shook her head. "No, he didn't."

"Yes, he did."

Scooping the cat up into her arms, she said in a tone specifically crafted to make the recipient doubt his own senses, "No, he didn't."

"Yes, he did," Austin corrected, his voice a little m.u.f.fled.

"Excuse me." Holding him tightly against her chest, she turned so that her body was between Dean and the cat. "I'll just be a minute." Tucking her thumb under the furry chin, she lifted his head and whispered, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." His tail, still twice its normal size, lashed against her leg. "I was startled. I hit the nasty on the other side of that shield and I overreacted."

"And what are you doing now?"

"He's a part of this."

"Are you out of your walnut-sized mind? He's a bystander!"

"Granted, but you're going to need his help."

"For what? With what? With her?

"Maybe. I don't know yet."

"You are out of your mind! Do you know what that is in there?"

"Excuse me?"

"What?" Dean's voice pulled Claire's attention back across the hall.

Caught between a cruel and capricious sea and an unwelcoming hunk of rock, Newfoundlanders had turned adaptation into a genetically encoded survival trait. True to his ancestry. Dean had progressed from stunned disbelief through amazement to amazed acceptance by the time he'd interrupted.

When he saw he had their attention, he said, "I could still hear you. Sorry."

"Well, she wasn't exactly keeping her voice down," Austin pointed out.

Dean met Claire's gaze almost apologetically. "The cat talks."

"The cat never shuts up," Claire replied through gritted teeth.

"He seems to think I can help."

"Yeah, well when I need something cleaned or cooked I'll let you know. OW!" Sucking on the back of her hand, she glared down at Austin. "What did you scratch me for?"

He retracted his claws. "You were being rude."

"Scratch me again and I'll show you rude," she muttered.

"You're frightened, that's understandable. Even I was almost frightened. You think you can't handle this, you think it's too big for you..."

"Stop telling me what I think!"

"... but that's no reason to take it out on him."

"You're frightened?" Dean ducked his head to get a better look at her face. "You are frightened."

Obviously, she hadn't been hiding it as well as she'd thought.

"Of what? Oh..." The talking cat had temporarily driven all thoughts of their other discovery out of his head. "Of her?" Evil, the cat had said. Rubbing the lingering, greasy feel off the arm that had been closest to the bed, Dean found that easy to believe.

"Don't worry." He straightened where he sat. "On the last of it, she'll have to go through me to get to you."

"Foreshadowing," Austin muttered.

Giving the cat a warning squeeze, Claire realized that Dean's offer was in earnest. He was the sort of person who went out of his way to pick worms off the sidewalk and put them back onto the lawn. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "First of all, I can take care of myself. Second, if you ever face that woman awake, you'd better hope she kills you immediately and doesn't play with you for a while. And third, there's nothing you can do."

"The cat said..."

"He says a lot of things."

"You said you'd explain."

"After I'd dealt with her. And I haven't."

"I could help you with her."

"You don't know what's going on."

"I would if you explained."

"I've had as much as I can take of this," Austin grumbled. "I'll explain." Wriggling out of Claire's arms, he crossed the hall and locked a pale green stare on Dean's face. "Do you believe in magic?"

"That's an explanation?"

"Just answer the question."

"Sure."

"Sure? What kind of an answer is sure? Do you or don't you?"