Twoupstairs windows shatter. A fox, a wolf, and a bobcat â Ike, Tommy, and Hank âhit the front lawn with teeth bared. Gunshots crack like thunder. I glance upto see Markâs head and his scoped Ruger Redhawk 44 appear in the busted window.He gets off a shot, ducks down, and Oscar - with a shotgun - pops up in hisplace. Two more shots. The four not-Shifters stop their prowling long enough toget a look at Mark and his hand cannon. Ike doesnât waste any time goingstraight for the throat of the nearest not-Shifter
Itrust Mark and Oscar, as much as I trust anybody, not to accidentally shoot mein the back. Jose Shifts and uses his tail to knock Az on her ass. Eyes wideand cell phone at her ear, she crawls under the SUV.
Somethingheavy and sharp plows into the side of my head. Bright spots obscure my vision.A tall, hulking blurry figure rushes toward me. Instinct kicks in. I may beshorter than the creature on two-legs, but Iâm quicker.
Myretreat puts me directly in the path of another not-Shifter. Sandwiched betweenFugly #1 and Fugly #2, I clamp my jaws around the nearest piece of not-Shifterflesh. Warm, bitter blood coats the back of my throat. That first, hot metallic taste is likeflipping a switch in my head. My muscles relax and fall into the chaos ofbattle.
Bite.Dodge. Rush. Attack. Fangs and claws and the rush of adrenaline.
, I love it.
Not-Shifterskin is thick, but it shreds like tissue paper under my claws. It doesnât takelong for the road to become slick with blood and other fluids. I have to dig myclaws in to maintain any traction. Fugly #3 escapes Joseâs relentless attackand comes at me with bloodlust glazed eyes.
Idodge left, hoping I can use the oak tree as a shield, but he catches me with adouble-fisted hit to my rear flank. One minute that leg holds my weight and thenext it doesnât. When Fugly #3 pullsback for another hit, I twist and catch his forearm with my front claws. Thewhite of his exposed bone is mesmerizing. Letâs see all of it.
Hetries to pull away from me. A fist to the muzzle doesnât dissuade me. Two frontpaws on his shoulders send us crashing to the damp grass. He plants a palmagainst my chest to try and heave me off him. Sweat beads on his forehead andstreams, in pink rivulets, off his face.
Idonât even have to fight him anymore. All I have to do is⦠lean in.
Hisulna shatters.
Rough,frantic hands pull me off the screaming not-Shifter. A sharp kick clacks myteeth together. A second kick knocks the breath out of my lungs. A third kick breaksa few ribs and sends me airborne.
Tommyâshowl wakes me from a pained daze. I hit the ground on all four feet. My rearflank protests the jostle. I ache everywhere, but I donât have time to lick mywounds. The wards wonât hold forever. Who knows how many not-Shifters Olivethas in reserve. There are wounded Shifters in the house that have to beprotected.
Fugly#4 breaks away from his battle with Ike to swipe at Joseâs recently healedtail. A fat chunk of spotted fur splats on the driveway. Azâs whimper is like ahot poker to my stomach.
Ikeand I avenge Joseâs tail by removing four of Fuglyâs fingers and most of histeeth. We bat him back and forth like achew toy. Swipes of claws crosshatch already shredded skin. Nips that sting andbleed but arenât fatal. Headbutts into joints and soft spots. Fugly #4 tries todefend himself, but heâs lost too much blood. He canât keep up with us. Ike andI have hunted together for years.
WhenFugly #4 is flat on his back, we step back to let Jose avenge his own damntail. Itâs a quick, but gory, evisceration. Fucking cats. Even I have a healthyrespect for Joseâs rear feet.
FourShifters versus three not-Shifters. Better odds, but not enough to warrantrelaxing my guard. I head back for Fugly #3. That leaves Tommy and Hank withFugly #2 and Ike with Fugly #1. Jose darts from Fugly to Fugly like heâs justinhaled a bag of catnip.
Jaggednot-Shifter teeth scrape across my shoulder. I push the pain aside and dancearound Fugly #3 until I find the right angle. I drive my head into his abdomen.When he doubles over, I kick him into the crumbling mailbox. Gretaâs going tokill me for that one. She picked out the damn mailbox after the last one diedan impressively explosive death.
Tommyyips. Hank soars through the air and crashes into the base of the oak tree. He regainshis feet after a heart-stopping second, but his right foreleg is broken and Ican see his ribs as well as a portion of his spine.
Tommyyips again as Fugly #2 tears a chunk out of his left flank. Fugly #3 doesnâtrise from where heâs curled around the mailbox. Okay. Priorities. Unconsciousenemy or alive, and in danger, pack mate? Not even a question, really.
Irace towards him, feet slipping on the damp grass. My weakened rear flank slowsme down. I attempt to compensate by taking larger leaps, but fire races acrossmy wounded side and nearly paralyzes me. Fugly #1 slips out of Ikeâs grasp andleaps on my back.
Ikepulls him off of me and does something that makes Fugly #1 scream like anelectrocuted banshee. Itâs too late, though. Fugly #2 digs both hands Tommyâs sides. When Fugly #2 pullsback, his twisted hands are coated with fur, blood, and pieces of bone. Miraculously,Tommy starts to move away from his tormentor. Two shots from the windows ringout and give Tommy more time to make his escape.
Timebut not the energy. Tommy falls just outside the ward boundary. I wasteprecious seconds watching, waiting, for his chest to rise. Blood pools aroundhis broken body. I take a step toward him, intent on dragging him inside thewards before one of the not-Shifters can finish the job. Claws scrape along myleft side, dig in and swing me around. While Iâd been distracted, Fugly #3 hadrisen to his feet.
Fugly #3 is a small but scrappy bastard. Resilientas hell. If he wasnât trying to kill me,I might admire his staying power. He releases my shoulders to tear at my chestwith his good arm. I bob away from his talons and drive my head into the sideof his knee. The impact makes him teeter, but he remains upright.
Fine.Be that way. I bury my teeth into the furry, thick skin of his calf just behindhis knee as he turns away to slice at me with his claws. His momentum, coupledwith a furious snap of my head, tears his hamstring. He leg buckles.
Hiscarotid artery is at muzzle-height. Iâve never been one to pass up an easykill.
Ashot, from far closer than the upstairs window, rings out. I spin, certain tokeep my back against whatâs left of the mailbox. Az, still on her knees but fartoo close to the wards for my peace of mind, aims and fires off another shot atthe not-Shifter inching closer to Tommyâs body.
WhenFugly #2 retreats â clutching at the spot where his ear used to be - Az dropsthe gun to the driveway. The scent of her blood floats on the breeze as she scramblesacross the rough driveway to reach Tommy. Itâs obvious that sheâs trying tostay inside the boundary, but her reach just isnât long enough.
Asnarl over my left shoulder distracts me. I turn my head for a second. Just onefucking second to make sure no oneâs going to try and bite me in the ass.
Thepained cry of an ocelot seems to freeze the scene. No one moves. I donât darebreathe.
Fugly#2 has a thick, hairy arm wrapped around Azâs neck. Her toes donât touch theground. He lifts her fallen ponytail, inhales, exhales, and laughs. The gratingsound sets every one of my nerves on end.
â
,â Fugly #2 grunts. âFitting petfor Shifters. Just how far would they go to save you, ?â The not-Shifter tightens his grip on Azâs neck.
His beady eyes are fixed on me. Thequestion is meant for me. I know the answer. He knows the answer. Everyoneshould, by now, know the damn answer. Sheâs pack.
âShift,â he orders.
Does he really think that being inhuman form will make me any less dangerous? When I donât immediately complywith his demand, he gives Az a brain-rattling shake. Her face goes ashen. Linesof pain bracket her pursed lips. I donât hesitate to Shift out of animal form.
Every frantic beat of my heart urges meto rush forward and rip out the bastardâs spine for daring to touch Az. Myracing brain reminds me that he could snap her neck before I made it two steps.Iâd kill him, no doubt about that, but Az would be dead, too. Not a win-winsituation.
âYou know,â she sighs, as if sheâs notseconds from being a corpse. âIâm really tired of people asking me the wrongquestion.â
I donât like the way this sounds. Iglare at her, trying my damndest to implore her to just be patient. Iâll gether out of this. Alive. Whereâs the trust she promised?
âWhatâs the right question?â Fugly #2asks, gaze darting down to his captive.
âHow far would I go to save them?â
Before his tiny brain can process herresponse, she clamps both hands on his wrist and sinks her sharp nails into hisskin. She curls one leg back to wrap her bare calf around his thigh. Given theangle and the height, her heel has to be somewhere damned uncomfortable. Goodgirl.
Fugly #2 bucks and twists, but shesticks to him like a barnacle. He flails his free arm. Slams his wrist intoAzâs temple. Does it again when she doesnât so much as flinch.
Her eyes fall shut for a moment. Herlips move. I barely make out the whisper of my name. Fugly #2 staggersbackward. Sheâs draining him. Which I ordered her not to do. I foresee a long, talk in our future. His palm cracksagainst her face. Blood gushes from her nose to join the trickle running downthe not-Shifterâs arm.
A dozen plans flit through my mind. Adozen plans are discarded . Sheâs too close for me to risk an attack. Too closefor anyone in the window to get a good shot. With the way theyâre moving,thereâs no guarantee she wonât get hit.
As soon as her feet touch the ground, shepropels them forward, stumbling and groaning, until they land in a huddle at myfeet. The not-Shifter seems stunned. His eyes are closed and heâs stoppedflailing.
I lift him up by the scruff of hisneck. I can scarcely see through the redhaze of wrath, but I tamp down on my anger. For a moment. Iâm seconds from Shifting,and I donât know that I can control myself if I do. Fur sprouts along my armsand my fingers lengthen, sharpen, into claws.
âClose your eyes, Princess.â
Sheâs no dainty daisy, but there aresome things she doesnât need to see. She doesnât fear me now, and I donât wantto do anything to change that. Olivet is watching, he has to be, and I want himto know what happens to those who threaten my people. Who threaten my void.
I wait until she dutifully squeezes hereyes shut to drive my flattened hand up under Fugly #2âs rib cage into histhoracic cavity. His eyes bulge out when his xiphoid process breaks off. Myhandâs momentum drives the ossified cartilage into Fuglyâs heart. Skin andmuscle rip under my nails.
Fuglyâs heart thumps rapidly against mypalm. I stare into his frightened eyes as I rip the organ out. Still beating,it lands nears Joseâs paws. The body falls to the ground with a thump. Itstarts to dissipate within seconds. The odor of sulfur rises from the ground. Theheart remains.
âCan I open them now?â Az croaks,pinching her nose to try and stem the flow of blood.
I wipe the blood off my hands as best Ican. Breathe in deep to shake off the Shift. âYes.â
I haul her to her feet, intent oncleaning her up and then yelling at her until sheâs deaf and Iâm hoarse. She,naturally, has other ideas. She digs her heels into the ground when I try todrag her away from Tommy.
âI want to help with the triage,â shesays. âHankâs in no shape to play doctor.â
âHow much magic did you absorb?â
âEnough to weaken tall, dark, andstinky.â
Oh, Princess, you do not want to playgames with me right now. Killing Fugly #2 didnât satisfy my rage. Not even alittle. âHow much?â
âEnough to make everything funny for the next few hours,â shelaughs. âEven Mark. I can give it to you, if youâd like.â
âNo!â The last thing I need is moreenergy. âDischarge into the wounded if itâll help.â
âOkay, you big meanie. What is yourproblem, anyway? In case it escaped your very attractive eyes, we won.â
âMy problem? What is my problem?â I letgo of her and take a large step back. Distance. Distance is good. âMy problem isthat you donât stay fucking put when youâre told to. There are a half-dozenpeople here to protect you, and you still have to charge in like the damncavalry. And then,â I poke her bloodstained chin, âthen you have to taunt thepsycho intent on killing you. Because you canât keep your damn mouth shut forfive fucking minutes!â
She blinks. A bucket of fury dumped onher and she just blinks. âAm I a member of this pack or not?â
âGod, Princess, if you even have toaskâ¦â
âThen you canât have it both ways, Ricky.The pack comes first. The pack protects me, and I protect the pack.â
âDamn it, Az.â I donât like her logic. Especiallynot when sheâs basically throwing my words back at me. âThis isnât what Imeant.â
âToo bad.â She grins, bruised face andbusted nose not doing a damn thing to detract from her joy. âNo takesiesbacksies. Iâll protect every member of this pack, even its obstinate Alpha,with my last breath.â
I haul her against me. She lets out asmall on contact, but her armswind around my waist. I bury my face in her hair; it smells like magnolias anddust and magic. Given that weâre surrounded by blood, itâs a welcome respite. âLetâsnot let that be too soon, okay?â
âCross my heart and, well, you know.â
Yeah.I know.