She's not the same woman after they got married. He tells his friends as much one night at the bar. They simply laugh at him.

"Really, man?" Jacob asks and throws back the rest of his drink.

He doesn't know how to describe that the woman who shares his bed reminds him of a predator. Instead, he tries to explain how one night he woke up and turned over to see her mouth wide open with sharp teeth. As long as a tiger's, as numerous as a crocodile's.

Jacob frowns and sets down his glass. "You sound crazy."

He wants to tell Jacob that she is preying on him, that he is scared. Instead, he tells him that he's joking. Jacob's wrinkled expression breaks into a smile, and he forces back one that stretches tightly across his cheeks.

When he gets home, he throws his coat over the hook and goes into the kitchen, looking to make a pot of coffee to stave off the sleepiness of the alcohol. He needs to be awake at night, in case she strikes. He pauses by the knife block for a moment and stares.

She's not the same woman he married - of that, he's sure.

The front door opens and then shuts.

"I'm home!" she calls from the hallway. He crouches behind the bedroom door, a large kitchen knife clenched in a firm grip.