Carrie hesitated, fighting the urge to run, telling herself she was being paranoid, and that she wanted this anyway, for John. She glanced around, and now saw that nearly everyone on the patio was staring skyward, anticipating the moonlight.
At the table next to her, a woman with bleached blonde hair unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse, and pulled her hair out of a ponytail, while the man with her took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
Across the street, Carrie saw a group of people all sitting outside what she imagined was an apartment building, all kicking their shoes off, the men taking their shirts off as well. Many other patrons of the restaurant were removing rings and necklaces in obvious preparation. All around her were smiling faces; smiling, predatory faces.
Carrie was terrified now, there was no denying it. She had to leave, had to get out before things got out of hand. She just knew if she could get away, she could hail a cab and get back to the hotel. She'd ask someone affiliated with the tourist trade to help her out tomorrow.
"Excuse me," Carrie said as her waitress walked by the table. "Can I get my bill, please?"
"Sure ma'am," she replied, pulling a notepad out and tabulating what Carrie owed. "So, how was your experie---" she said, suddenly gasping and dropping her pencil.
Carrie instinctively bent to get the pencil for the girl, and then noticed that dark fur was beginning to sprout on her legs, and talons were bursting through her shoes.
She had waited too long.