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He hissed and lunged for me behind a whirlwind of his blades.
I brought my sword up and parried, managing by the grace of the gods to keep those sharp edges from my face. Son of a bitch was strong and fast, but after the second missed thrust to my wobbly parry, I couldn’t help feeling like he was holding back.
All around us, the fighting ceased, until the only sounds echoing off the walls were the clangs of metal against metal. Couldn’t blame them. How often does one get to see a naga and a glowing human fight?
In my periphery, I noticed fewer nagas crowding the space, meaning he couldn’t fight me and keep up the charade. Good to know.
However, I had a more immediate problem. “You’re playing with me.”
Simon shrugged. “I want you to feel accomplished before you die.”
Lovely. I jumped back outside of his reach. “This isn’t some act of chivalry, Simon. This is just plain rude.”
He paused to consider me for a moment. “You wish to die so quickly?”
I shook my head. “I don’t wish to die at all. You could just surrender.”
Simon slithered forward. “What happens if I don’t?”
I shrugged. “I’ll have to kill you, and, well, if I’m honest, I’m really hoping you don’t.”
He swung one blade, sounding a metal-on-metal clang as I met him. “Then let’s finish this.”
Simon came at me in a flurry of scimitars, and I didn’t have a chance to do more than defend. He maneuvered me across the cave as though we were at some crazy swordplay dance competition.
I needed to get around those blades. If I could only disarm him....
Hesitation cost me, and Simon drew a hot line across one cheek, where my magicked helm didn’t cover.
“First blood,” he said, amid a chorus of enthusiastic hissing from the other nagas.
“Ethan!”
“Roger that!”
Screams rose, and the fighting began anew.
“Distractions don’t work,” Simon said.
I smiled. “It’s not a distraction. I’m really trying to kill you.” I slipped my blade past his arms and nicked his chest, popping a couple of the scales off. “That’s a good start.”
He hissed again and charged.
I lost some hair when I ducked beneath a swing, but I got another shot in and left a line on his arm. His anger was working in my favor—back, back, forward, parry, forward, touch. Rinse and repeat.
His arms reached longer than my blade, so all my damage were scratches, flesh wounds, but just as in the vision with Daniel, they weren’t healing.
I touched my cheek as I scrambled backward again, and felt nothing. I’d never healed so quickly before, but this girl wasn’t complaining.
Magick or no, fatigue worked its nasty way on me. I fell to my knees, tripping over some debris, and swung my sword up to catch his downward arc. He pushed down, and I pushed back. We stood there interlocked in our mini power play. Something had to give, and worry set in that it might be me.
Esther! Focus on Esther!
“Are the kids alive?” I asked through gritted teeth.
Simon blinked. “Yes, they are, but we haven’t time to—”
He screamed as I fired six shots into his torso. Scales shattered and gaping holes bloomed in his mid-section.
He wobbled on his tail and fell to his side with a loud thud. “You cheated!”
“No, Simon, I was resourceful.” Thank you, Daniel, for insisting that I learn to shoot with my non-dominant hand. I walked over and pressed the tip of my sword to his throat. “You shouldn’t have come here,” I seethed. “You shouldn’t have messed with my family. You shouldn’t have killed babies.”
Blood poured from the grouping of holes through his fingers. “You shot me in a swordfight.”
I lifted his chin with the tip of the sword. “That’s what you’re focusing on? That I chose to leverage my resources instead of fighting ‘fair’ against a giant monster? That’s fucked up.” I raised the sword, flipped it blade down, and wrapped both hands around the hilt. “Say good night.”
“This isn’t over.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
He lurched forward and grabbed one leg with both hands, claws shredding denim and flesh.
A nasty wet popping sound filled my ears as I went down, screaming when I hit the cave floor. The sword fell out of my hands and exploded into dust on impact, and my armor flickered and sputtered out of existence.
Simon pinned me down, hands above my head, his tail between my legs as he towered over me. “I think I’ll enjoy eating you.”
Waves of nausea washed over me. Was my knee broken? Could you break a knee? Could I die from a broken knee? Why could I see the stars through the top of the cave? Oh, gods, I really wanted to throw up all over him. That would show the bastard. Warm wetness crawled up the backs of my jeans. I slow blinked a couple of times, already feeling a little woozy.
Whoa, I shouldn’t be bleeding out so fast. Not good.
I tried to catch my breath. Come on, Zoë, get it together. Getting eaten alive was on my list of ways not to go, and I’d be damned if I was going to let this pompous asshat win. So how to get out of this situation?
I couldn’t punch him, because he still had me pinned. Kicking him was kind of pointless because he was between my legs... and had a tail. Think! I tried to summon magick, and my hands lit up, but only for a second.
A barrage of bullets slammed into Simon, pushing him off me in a cloud of fresh wounds and scales. “No!” he screamed, pushing himself up with his arms. Blood poured from a few dozen little holes as he grabbed the nearest human and siphoned pale, white energy from the top of his head.
The officer fell to the ground in a soundless pile, and several bullets retreated from Simon’s torso, tinking onto the cave floor.
He started toward me, but another hail of gunfire pushed him back again. Apparently, one hundred-ish bullets were enough to dissuade him, and he slithered off into the edges of the darkness.
Ethan and Mike appeared above me. Then Mike disappeared, doing something to my leg.
I could feel movement, but the pain lessened through the haze. A tourniquet, maybe? Probably.
“Oh, Zoë....” Ethan’s eyes were so sad.
“Bad, huh?” The stars were brighter above their heads.
“Your leg.” Mike grabbed my hand. “Zoë, your right leg is mangled from the knee down. I think he got your femoral artery. I tied a tourniquet, but it’s just slowed it down. You need to change.”
“Change?” Ethan sounded confused.
I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth to explain. My tongue felt thick, heavy.
Mike ignored him. “I know you don’t want to do it. I know you think it’s going to change things, but we can’t get you out of here and to a hospital fast enough. I don’t think you want to lose the leg. If you change, you can heal it. You can save it.”
I blinked at him, my chin trembling. “Mike....” That one word took so much effort.
He rubbed one hand across his forehead, eyes bright with tears. “Jesus Christ, Zoë, if you don’t change, you’re going to die. Please! Don’t die.”
I whimpered and laid a hand on Ethan’s arm. “I don’t....” I swallowed hard and tried again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed the knuckles. “You’re like a daughter to me. I’ll never be afraid of you.”
Tears rolled down the sides of my face. “Mike, I can’t. I’ve used so much magick already. I can’t force a change, too.”
“Use me,” Mike said, his hands wrapped around mine. “I know you can siphon energy off other people. Use my energy to change. Please, Zoë.”
The noisy chaos of the ongoing gunfight grew muffled, as if it were happening much farther away. Maybe it was the shock kicking in, or the blood loss, but I agreed to his offer without any argument.
“Okay, I’ll try.” I closed my eyes and reached for Mike with my magick.
Touching the surface of him was like dropping a pebble in an endless ocean. Clean, happy living can do that. I poured a thread into that ample abyss and tugged.
Crystalline baubles rose up along the thread. When they crossed over, it was like eating boba bubble tea. The skins broke with a refreshing pop, magick filling me up in a cool wash of power. Mike might not be sensitive, but he was a powerhouse of karma and faith, a poetic cocktail of good personage. I didn’t need to take much, like drinking one of those five-hour energy drinks instead of a pot of coffee.
When I let go, we exhaled in tandem.
“Thank you,” I whispered, eyes still closed. Inside, my wolf pawed at the ground, eyes bright, tail wagging, all perky ears and lolling tongue. She was ready to come out and taste some naga flesh.
This one last favor, I begged the Powers that Be. One last favor, and I’ll die happy. “Come on, girl.”
She launched herself up, and my back arched on impact. The pain was agonizing, a million times worse than any other change over the last year. Fur, like an endless field of darkest ebony needles, grew out of my skin. There was nothing pleasurable about the exchange of my little, human body for her giant, dire wolf form, and as she stretched into me, through me, that power from my wolf whipstitched muscle and fiber, tendon and vessels, where Simon had so brutalized me.
Granted, the process was brutal, and I screamed through the entire change, my voice running the gamut from horror movie scream queen to a bass, guttural howl. Mike and Ethan had let go of my hands, and it was a good thing, because talons slipped from my fingertips and dug into the hard rock floor. My nose and mouth extended into a mini-muzzle, complete with whiskers, and if I reached up, I’d find two large ears mounted above a head of human hair.
The agony subsided to a dull throb in my right leg, but a right leg I could feel again. Thank the gods for small favors. Giant hind legs put me back to the almost ten feet I’d stood in the warehouse, when fighting against Heath. Could that really have only been a few hours ago?
“Hey!” I attempted a smile at Ethan and Mike. “I’m finally taller than you guys.”
