9

 

 

One full-fledged werewolf was scary as hell. Four, well, four was enough to make me wet myself.

“Oh,” I breathed. “Oh, crap. This isn’t what it looks like,” I stammered, seeing their collective hatred coupled with their killing stances. “I mean yes, I was about to stab him, but I changed my mind.” Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.

For a second my body wouldn’t move, as though I’d gotten some of that paralyzing spell on me. I knelt there, frozen in shock for the briefest of moments, as I watched two of the four werewolves rip off their clothes, drop down on all fours, and start to change. I’d only seen the Hollywood version, and damn, it was bang on.

Shit. This was really bad.

Around me, I heard the werewolves’ growls bubbling up in their throats as their bones cracked and popped, lengthening their arms and legs. Their faces pulled and stretched, their jaws elongating in a hideous blending of human and wolf.

Their skin flashed to gray and a fluff of silky, thick fur appeared—one dark gray and one brown. Their eyes fixed on me, and there was nothing human left in them. They were bigger than the average wolf. These were wolves on steroids. Their lips curled in warning with steady growls of rage coming from them.

Holy crap. They had wolfed-out in ten seconds flat!

But I barely had time to register how quickly my plan had gone down the crapper as the two wolves came at me.

I flung myself under the operating table, twisting while ducking and rolling, barely missing a swipe of razor-sharp claws from the brown wolf.

My heart hammered. I was in deep shit. Neck deep, and it was pulling me under.

Teeth snapped where my face would have been, and I kicked out, my foot making contact with something hard. There was a yelp as claws raked the side of my leg. I cried out, feeling the searing pain of the deep gashes. I was lucky it hadn’t been his head taking a chunk out of my leg.

“He’s not dead!” I cried. “He’s just sleeping!” Well, not exactly, but it was the first thing that came out of my mouth. I didn’t have time to try and tell them about Lisbeth’s blackmail. They wouldn’t believe me. It looked bad. To the weres, it looked like I’d killed their alpha.

“Stop! Please!” Yeah, like they would listen to me.

Shouts rang out as I kicked at the snapping jaws that threatened to break my leg in half. My soul blade hung uselessly in my hand as I tried to keep my ass alive.

I should have stayed home.

Panic struck me when I caught sight of the second wolf coming at me from the other side of the table while I was struggling to keep the brown wolf from eating me. Swell.

Ears pinned and lips curled to show teeth the size of kitchen knives, it came at me. Paws, the size of my head, swiped at me and I fell backwards and out from under the table.

The brown wolf leaped on me. The floor slammed into me, and I grunted as the air left my lungs in a whoosh. Instinctively, I brought my knees up, planting my feet on its chest and trying to keep it from biting my head off. Warm dog breath hit my face, and I shook from the weight of the beast. My thighs burned as I strained to keep it there. The wolf thrashed madly, and I could barely reach it with my blade without cutting myself by accident.

“Tyrius!” I cried as loudly as I could, my lungs empty. Where the hell was my friend? I prayed to the souls the werewolves hadn’t killed him. If Tyrius died, it would be my fault.

I screamed in agony as claws raked my side. I caught a flash of gray fur so I blindly waved my soul blade behind me at the gray wolf. There was a startled yip, and a few seconds’ break.

Then I heard a roar, nothing like a wolf’s growl or snarl, and turned my head enough to see a great black panther lunge at the gray wolf.

Tyrius and the wolf disappeared under a tangle of black and gray fur. I cringed at the horrible sounds of teeth and claws tearing flesh. If anyone could match the strength of a werewolf, it was Tyrius in his alter ego black panther.

My lungs felt like they were about to explode under the strain of trying to keep the brown wolf from mauling me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t get enough air. My head swam, and I blinked the dark spots from my eyes. Despair crept over me. If I didn’t do anything now, I was going to die.

Adrenaline fueled my limbs. Pulling my knees to my chest, I pushed off as hard as I could with my feet and flung the brown wolf back.

I took a ragged breath and scrambled to my feet, blade still in hand. I eased into a fighting stance, my butt pressed against the row of metal cabinets. But what could I do against these giant monster wolves? Not much. Worse, the other two weres were shifting into their wolf forms as well. I blinked and then I was staring at a red wolf and another darker gray. Damn.

“Bad doggy,” I rasped, my head swimming with the surge of pounding blood. “Very bad doggy.”

The brown wolf lowered its body to a crouch and growled at me.

I didn’t wait for it to lunge as I threw my soul blade right at it. The blade hit the wolf’s left shoulder and stayed there. Shit. The wolf didn’t even move, except for its lips pulling back into a nasty snarl.

Great. That just pissed it off more.

The massive brown wolf came at me, its claws tearing up the tiles floors in an eerie fingers-scratching-a-chalkboard type sound.

“Oh, crap,” I said, voice cracking. Heart pounding, I planted myself and waited.

And just when its giant muzzle was an inch from my chest, I threw myself out of the way.

With a loud crash, the wolf hit the metal cabinet with the force of a truck going fifty miles an hour hitting a tree. It crumpled to the ground in a heap of fur. Relief surged through me when I saw it was still breathing. He’d have a hell of a headache when he woke up. Poor bastard.

Something caught my leg, and I went hurtling down on the ground. Propping myself up on my elbows, I caught a glimpse of Tyrius. The big black panther was a blur of claws, teeth, and limbs as he and the wolf rolled on the ground, tearing each other up like a pack of wild dogs. We met in a confusion of snapping teeth and swatting paws. Not his fault. I’d stumbled into my friend’s fight with the wolf.

I rolled desperately, trying to escape being crushed. Something dark and strong struck me across the jaw. Ow. Stars plagued my vision as I swayed, close to losing consciousness. The blow was enough to ring bells inside my ears, literally.

I barely had time to scramble away as one of Tyrius’s front paws swiped in my direction, his nails tearing a chunk out of my leather jacket.

I pushed to my feet just as the red wolf smashed into me. I felt one of my ribs crack and then I was on my back again, the wolf pinning me to the floor. Fear stabbed deep as a great, wet maw went for my neck. I thrashed under its weight, barely moving as the wolf grabbed hold of my arm with its jaw.

“Let go, you stupid dog!” I shouted. Now I was pissed. I wasn’t worried about the werewolf virus because I was pretty sure I was immune to it. But I didn’t want to get mauled to death either.

Making a fist, I smashed it into the side of the wolf’s head. He yelped and let go, his teeth raking my arm and sending a pulse of pain through me. The other darker wolf just stood there, waiting for scraps. I could hear thumps and cries in the background. Tyrius was still fighting.

The red wolf was back, snarling and more savage. I didn’t want to kill any of the wolves. I knew the kind of shit storm that would follow if I did. But it wasn’t like they were giving me any choice in the matter.

The red wolf lunged. I twisted but not fast enough. It latched on to my shoulder and picked me up, shaking me. My shoulder muscles tore under the wolf’s strong grip. Okay, so it was stronger than I thought. I had not expected that.

With brute force, the wolf threw me across the room. I hit the wall and slid to the ground. “I really should have stayed home,” I wheezed, trying to get some air into my lungs.

Panting, I rolled over and got to my feet, still on an adrenaline rush the size of the Hudson River. My anger, my fear, and my shame wouldn’t be denied.

“Come on, Red,” I yelled, as a mixture of fear and fury slipped into me. “Stop playing around like a pup and fight like a real wolf.”

Red growled, promising me pain.

“Take your best shot, you stinking mutt,” I barked.

The red wolf lunged, the cracked and shattered tiles spurting out behind it.

Holy hell. I was in trouble.

I shifted directions erratically, zigzagging across the room with my boots slipping on the smooth surface. But my dancing skills were nothing compared to the pace of the wolf coming at me.

A massive paw hit me and I went sprawling. My pulse raced as I rolled, my spine protesting as I clambered back. My only goal was to stay out from between his teeth as I smelled and felt the hot sour dog breath when the wolf tried to bite me. On my back, I kicked out and punched. Satisfied when I heard a whimper, I struggled to my feet.

A small cry escaped me when I was met with the darker wolf. I backpedaled, but I might as well have just stood there.

Excruciating pain flamed through me as its massive maw gripped my neck and shook me. Agony seared me and I could barely breathe. I all but panicked as I felt its jaws clamping down on my throat. I dropped my soul blade, my fingers reaching in and getting sliced on the sharp canines as I tried to pry its jaw open. It didn’t work.

The wolf shook me again, its strength terrifying. My spine felt like it was on fire, bones like rubber. Pain clouded my thoughts. More panic welled in me. I would not die. Not like this.

Determination boiled in me. So I did the only thing I could do. I jabbed my finger in its eye.

Not only did the wolf let go, but that was seriously nasty.

I fell to my knees, my hand going to my neck and feeling the large gash with wet blood trickling down. The wolf shook its head, its eyes watering. And now I had two seriously pissed off wolves watching me as they lowered to an attack stance.

Okay, now I was going to die.

“Rowyn!” someone cried, and I got to my feet, shaking. “Rowyn! Get down!”

Then I saw Gareth brush past me, pushing me down as he hurtled himself into the fight an instant before the wolves attacked again.

Drawing his hand from his jacket, he flung it out and screamed, “Vus ardeat!” Navy colored dust roared forth from his outstretched fingers.

The cloud of dust settled on the werewolves and Tyrius. There was a clap like thunder, and the werewolves backed off with high-pitched whimpers and frightened growls. Their bodies thrashed as though something was burning them from the inside.

And then one after another the werewolves staggered and fell, collapsing on the smooth floor, and were still.

I stared in horror at the black panther that lay next to the werewolf it had been fighting. Tyrius wasn’t moving.

“Tyrius!” I shouted, staggering forward like a drunken fool until Gareth held me upright.

“He’s fine,” soothed the elf, panting.

I yanked out of his grip. “What did you do to him?”

Gareth gripped me by the shoulders and pulled me around to face him. “Calm down,” he ordered, his eyes searching my face. “He’s sleeping. They’re all sleeping. They’re fine. I promise.”

“Sleeping?” I repeated, sounding stupid.

Seeing that I’d calmed myself, Gareth let me go. “He’s fine. They all are. I hit them with a sleeping spell. A very strong one. They’ll be out for a few hours.”

I moved away from Gareth and stood over Tyrius, my eyes traveling over his silky black fur. Sure enough, I saw his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. And only then did I let myself relax a little. Thank the souls.

Gareth’s eyes widened when he saw my neck. “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, reaching a hand to my neck. My fingers came away sticky with blood. “I think I might need stitches.” I knew I could wake up Pam, but I’d have to wait for Tyrius to change back to his Siamese self before I could move him.

Panting, and shaking from the spent energy rush, I looked at the elf. “I couldn’t do it,” I said, my voice tight. “I couldn’t kill him.”

“I know it must have been a tough decision,” said Gareth, though I heard the satisfaction in his voice. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

I opened and closed my mouth. I hadn’t killed the werewolf, but in doing so, I had killed my grandmother.

Gareth read the expression on my face. He looked at me for a moment and said, “Lisbeth won’t know about your attempt until later this morning when the werewolves wake up. There’s still time to figure something out for your grandmother.”

“Yeah?” I swallowed. “Like what.”

“I have a cabin up in Maine,” said the elf, surprising me. “It’s not much, but it’s off the grid and should keep her and you safe for a while.”

“A cabin? You have a cabin—”

Something big and black brushed by me like a rocket, knocking me into the nearby metal table. A wash of pain surged inside me and I heard my upper left arm crack. I slipped to the floor. Gritting my teeth in pain I turned my head just as a giant black wolf jumped on Gareth, pinning him to the ground.

Two things occurred to me at the same time. First, the black wolf was Steven who’d broken free from my paralyzing spell, and two, my left arm was broken.

Wincing, I pushed myself up with my right arm, the pain making me dizzy as I staggered forward.

“Steven! Stop! Don’t do this!” I cried, but the black wolf kept snapping its powerful jaws at Gareth. Its strength was frightening, and it was a miracle that Gareth held up the wolf’s muzzle without getting bit.

At that moment, I knew why Steven was the alpha. He was huge. Bigger than the other wolves by nearly double. He was a monster wolf.

And Gareth didn’t stand a chance.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The black wolf didn’t stop snapping its jaws and clawing at Gareth’s chest. The only thing keeping him from bleeding out and being ripped to shreds was his thick coat. I didn’t think elves were immune to the werewolf virus. If Gareth was bitten...

Damn it all to the Netherworld and back. I should have stayed home.

With my left arm hanging uselessly at my side, I shuffled forward and grabbed a long medical instrument that looked like small crowbar from the table. My vision blurred from the gut-wrenching pain in my left arm as I made my way towards the wolf.

“Steven, stop!” I howled as I hit the wolf with the metal bar. I hit him again. And again as hard I could without toppling over. “Your pack are just sleeping! They’re not hurt!” But the wolf never stopped thrashing madly over Gareth. I wasn’t even sure if he heard me.

I dropped the metal pole and hurled myself over the big wolf. My entire body spasmed in pain as I reached over, grabbed a fistful of his ear and yanked.

The black wolf growled and smacked me hard with his paw, sending me sprawling to the ground, on my left side. Tears welled at the pain in my arm.

Gareth turned his head from the wolf’s jaws, his face contorted in exertion and terror. I saw real fear in his eyes. The wolf’s lips brushed against Gareth’s face. The wolf was going to kill him.

My heart thrashed in my chest. Forgetting my pains, I struggled to my feet. I suddenly remembered that I’d packed a hunting knife. I yanked it out of my weapons belt and threw myself on top of the wolf again, face first into a fluff of black fur. I tried hard not to think of the smell as I struggled to stay on the moving beast. Wincing as I held on with my thighs and right arm and straining with effort, I climbed over the big beast.

Still shaking, I gripped the knife in my trembling hand and held it above the wolf’s head.

“Steven, please,” I begged. “Stop.” But the wolf only seemed to get angrier, wilder as he pushed down on Gareth’s hold, teeth grazing his neck.

Souls forgive me.

Pulse racing, I drove my knife down into the wolf’s skull.

The hunting knife slipped from my hand as the big wolf went limp.

I stared in abrupt shock as I slid off the wolf’s back and fell to the floor on my ass.

Gareth lay still for a moment and then, grunting with effort, he pushed the big wolf off of him and dragged himself on the floor next to me. His eyes were wide and his dark hair tousled. He’d lost his hat in the struggle and I could see pointed ears peeking through his thick hair. So he did have those.

Neither of us said anything for a while as we sat on the floor, staring at the dead alpha wolf.

In the end, I had changed my mind about killing the wolf. But it wouldn’t make a difference now.

Steven Price was dead. And I had killed him.