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I swallow hard. "It feels good."

"Good."

He tugs at it again, twisting the collar until the d-ring is in the back. I whimper a little as it burns my skin, and he pulls the leash through a hole in the back of my hood.

Tate looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "You better stop, Noah."

"Stop what?"

"You know what," he says. "Making noises like that. He's going to tear you apart and ruin the game. Silas, you can't fuck her."

Silas laughs a little and lets the leash drop. "I didn't do anything," he says.

Tate opens the door. "Walk," he says, instructing me. "You can walk like a human until you get to the sidewalk, but then you have to get down on all fours and let Silas walk you."

I follow them down the staircase like a human. There are a few people out in town, but I only see a couple of costumes. Still, trick-or-treating will start soon. Last year, I handed out candy at the café, but this year, the building is dark, the door locked, and the parking lot empty.

I stare until Silas pulls on the back of my leash. "Hey," he says. "We're on the sidewalk now."

"Sorry," I say before dropping to my knees and crawling. Silas keeps the leash taut enough that I can feel it, and even though it is Halloween, I can feel the people on the streets and in front of store and restaurant windows staring, and my cheeks burn.

"I forgot to tell you, Noah," Tate says. "There's one more rule."

"What is it?"

"If anyone acknowledges you as a dog, you have to bite them."

"What? Why?"

"Because I think it's fucking funny, that's why. Okay, puppy?" he says, patting my head.

From where I'm sitting, he just acknowledged me as a dog. I turn to the side and dig my teeth into his forearm before he can move away.

"Ahh!" Tate yells, jerking his arm away. "Not me! Bad dog!" He slaps me hard on the ass, and Silas laughs. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

Downtown Winter Falls is small, but I'm also really, really fucking slow like this. It takes forever for me to crawl past thethree blocks of restaurants and retail shops. We even pass the garage where Mason works.

I haven't heard from him since he saw me with Silas and Tate at the bar. I take extra care to keep my head down as we pass.

"My knees hurt," I tell them. "How much longer do I have to do this?"

"Until we get to the motel or someone acknowledges you as a dog," Tate says. "Now, stop breaking character."

"You should bear crawl," Silas says. "Dalmatians are tall. You're supposed to be a dalmatian."

I push up onto my feet. "This is more work," I grumble.

"Good girls don't complain," Silas says.

It is hard, but it is nice to give my knees a break. However, it isn't long before my hamstrings burn, and I find myself hoping someone will stop and acknowledge me as a dog so I can bite their ass and get this over with.

"She likes it," Tate says. "Noah always likes our games; that's why she does it. It's a lot more fun when she admits it."

Before I can snap back, I hear a familiar voice.

"Well, look at that," Betsy says.

This-cream-is-poisonedBetsy.You-and-your-friend-dress-inappropriatelyBetsy.You're-not-very-ladylikeBetsy. And I think she's about to acknowledge me as a dog.