Julian had dreamed about this place. The state fair. Not in a good way. Nightmares, dreams of dark forces moving between the attractions, of things hunting in the corn. Blood and smoke.
So why the hell was he here? No one had listened to his warnings, none of the workers, not the police, no one. He didn't know how to make anyone listen without sounding crazy.
So he was here instead, stepping into the corn as every instinct howled at him to shift, to Change, to defend himself now.
Eyes wide, he glanced at the guy who'd come in just before him. "If that's your guardian angel or something you're talking to, think you can put in a good word for me?"