“Then thoughts started crowding into my head about what I would do when I caught him. I wanted to sink my teeth into his neck, and rip him to shreds, splash his blood everywhere.” He stopped then, and rubbed the fingertips of his right hand over the center of his forehead, then pressed them so hard into the skin that when he removed them the area remained white for a couple of seconds. “God, this is so messed up. Saying it out loud only makes it sound more bizarre.”

Leaning forward in her chair, Anneke said, “Caleb, it’s all right, honestly. I know this is difficult for you, but I can only help if you tell me everything, no matter how bizarre you think it sounds.” The truth, of course, was that she already knew how to help him, but she couldn’t do it yet. He had to believe, and hopefully her encouraging him to describe his experiences verbally would allow them to sink into his consciousness. Sometimes all it took was a different way of presenting things in order for it to make sense to someone. It was certainly worth a try, anyway.

His gaze fixed on the carpet, he nodded. “I know. It’s just… it was bad enough inside my head, but saying it out loud seems to have made it a hundred times worse. You couldn’t make this stuff up.”

She gave a gentle smile, even though he was still looking at the floor. Hopefully it would shine through in her voice. “I can handle it, Caleb, don’t worry.”

With what looked like a gargantuan amount of effort, he tore his gaze from the carpet and met her eyes. His lips twisted into a wry smile. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Anneke. It’s me.”

Her heart skipped a beat as they maintained eye contact, and she hurriedly shifted her hands to the arms of her chair and squeezed tightly to redirect her energy and focus.

“I was…” He cleared his throat again, met her gaze for a second, then looked away. A flush of color stained his cheeks. “Naked. Totally starkers. It was nighttime, and I was running through some woods. Didn’t recognize the place. I could see amazingly well in the dark, though, and I was chasing someone. Don’t know who, other than it was a bloke. Couldn’t see his face, since he was running away from me. Could hear his heartbeat, though, and his breathing. Fast, labored. I started gaining on him. He glanced over his shoulder, then swore when he realized I was getting closer to him. Then he tripped, went down hard. I was on him within a couple of seconds… and that’s when I woke up.”

“All right,” she said quietly, fighting to keep her tone and expression neutral, “that’s very good, well done. So that was the first… unusual thing that happened, yes? Can you describe what’s happened since?”

Caleb blew out a heavy breath and nodded. “Yes, of course. Just…” He pointed to his glass of water, then picked it up and downed half of it in a couple of gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing wildly. “That’s better. Yeah, so that was weird, but although I remembered it all the following morning, I didn’t think too much of it. I mean, loads of people have weird dreams, don’t they? It was when it happened again that I started to get concerned about it.”

“The following night?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, a few weeks later… maybe three or four? I’d almost forgotten about it. The first part was the same—no drinking, went to bed, woke up with heart racing and bathed in sweat. But the dream itself was even weirder. I didn’t think it was possible to be weirder, but it was. I was naked again, chasing a guy again—I don’t know if it was the same one—but everything was much more vivid. I couldn’t just see and hear what was happening; it was like I was truly there. I could feel the leaves crunching under my feet and the soil giving way beneath my weight, the occasional rock digging into my sole, smell the plants and the man’s sweat, taste the saliva pooling in my mouth. I think the salivating was the most bizarre part of all, really—why the hell was I drooling over chasing a bloke? I’m straight.

Raising an eyebrow, Anneke replied, “I prefer not to use that term, but yes, I do see and hear about many different conditions and symptoms.”

Looking chagrined, he shook his head, then said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so inappropriate. I’m just nervous, I suppose. Like I said when I called up to make the appointment, at times I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Okay…” She crossed her legs, mindful of pushing him too hard, while at the same time feeling a sense of frustration that she already knew what was wrong with him, but couldn’t say anything. Well, she could, she supposed, but if she came right out and said, “Caleb, I know precisely what is wrong with you—you’re a werewolf,” she’d be the one seeing a psychiatrist. No, she had to build a great deal more rapport—and most importantly, trust—with Caleb before she could even think of broaching the subject. She had to be confident she had a chance of getting him to believe her. Otherwise it was likely he’d walk out of her office and never come back, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. He was a potentially very dangerous creature, and he needed to know that before it was too late for some poor, unsuspecting soul. Or even multiple souls. Hopefully it wasn’t already too late. “Can you elaborate? It helps me to know what makes you think that you’re losing your mind, how long your symptoms have been occurring, how often, and so on. Basically, anything and everything you can tell me, no matter how small or insignificant you think it might be.”

Caleb nodded, took a swig of his water, then put his glass on the table. He immediately seemed to regret the action, though, as he clasped his empty hands together and began twisting them. Yeah, he’s nervous all right. Poor guy.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’ll do my best. It started around six months ago, I think. I went to bed as normal one night, around eleven, then woke up a few hours later absolutely soaked with sweat, my heart pounding so hard it almost hurt. For a second, I thought I was having a heart attack or something, but then it settled down. I didn’t know what had caused it—I hadn’t been drinking, and my room wasn’t particularly hot—so I got up, had a drink of water, used the bathroom, then went back to bed. A couple of hours later I woke up again, in the same sort of state, but that time I remembered—I’d been dreaming. Or perhaps having a nightmare would be a better way to describe it.