Daine's about to point out that Andrew's permission isn't worth much, given that the Coldfang doesn't take orders from him, when she feels him still on top of her, and then start to slide. I told you not to look! Daine cries as she skids to a halt.

The aisle isn't really wide enough for her to turn around, and she nearly gets stuck in the attempt. With a grunt, she shoves aside the shelves in her way - fortunately, not the same set as the ones Andrew's wriggling through. She sees his flailing legs - and then she sees the Coldfang.

Daine drops to her suddenly human knees, unable to focus on holding the polar bear shape - unable to focus on anything but the Coldfang. It drags itself toward her at a leisurely pace, head swinging from side to side, tail rattling as it bumps over the books littering the floor. Andrew is casually bypassed; the Coldfang is more interested in the thief than the stolen property. Its mouth opens, revealing rows of sharp, silver teeth and two hinged fangs, like a snake's. Daine shivers, her breath ghosting in front of her.