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Return to us. Take the whip. The mantle is yours. Romulus will forgive. Bring us your brothers.
“NO!” Lawson cried, falling back and releasing the hound. They both fell into the glom, where Lawson’s rage transformed him into a wolf. They were all wolves now, Rafe large and black-furred and red-eyed, Edon golden and lean, his teeth sharp as razors—wolves with red markings around their necks, where their collars had once choked them.
Lawson snarled at the hounds that surrounded them; they had transformed as well, shedding their human aspect for bestial form, with sleek glossy hides, sharp ivory teeth, and long silver claws. He leapt at the nearest one, his teeth bared, seeking blood. Blood and revenge.
He made quick work of the beasts, breaking the necks of two, smashing the third against the wall. Four. Only one left.
Where? he sent.
Rafe shook his head. Edon paced the stone. It got away.
Then he saw it—it was running toward the light, toward the end of the passage, running for the girl. Bliss. Arthur and Malcolm were far ahead, almost at the end. But Bliss was slow—not a vampire anymore, she’d told him. Lawson snarled, bared his teeth, and ran as fast as he could.
Bliss had fallen and her leg was bleeding. She was cringing away from the hound—Lawson could see its shape as it loomed large above her, casting a huge shadow. Its crimson eyes were brilliant with hatred.
He roared at the hound, and the monster turned to him.
The Hellhound growled and leapt to attack, its claws tearing into Lawson’s body, from neck to stomach; then it sunk its teeth into Lawson’s neck and began to shake him like a rag doll.
“REVERTO UT ABYSSUS! REVERTO UT OBSCURUM!”
Lawson turned to see Bliss holding aloft the knife from the butcher shop. Her eyes were blazing, her voice ringing with the tone of command. He held his breath, waiting for the hound to mount another attack—a human girl with a kitchen knife as her only weapon was no match for a hound of Hell—but instead the beast cringed before Bliss, yelping and turning tail, whining as it retreated, disappearing into the night.
He turned back into his human form, and Bliss helped him to his feet. He was bleeding from the cuts in his neck, on his torso. “Who are you, Bliss Llewellyn?” he asked weakly. “The hound feared you.”
There was a heavy silence, broken by another pop—Rafe and Edon appeared, as humans. Both were bleeding from cuts and breathing heavily.
“Where’s the hound?” Rafe asked, spitting out a tooth.
“It left,” Lawson said. “Bliss told it to go away.”
Edon scratched his head. “Curious.” The boys all looked at her then, fear and suspicion in their eyes.
To be continued in Wolf Pact, Part Three…
“She spoke the sacred language,” Lawson said. “I didn’t recognize it at first, it had been so long since I’d heard the language of the masters.”
“You seem to have a great talent for languages,” Edon said drily.
Bliss shrugged and tossed away the knife, dark with the hound’s blood. She wasn’t going to answer their questions.
They stood in a tense circle until Arthur came out of the darkness. The old man was breathing heavily, and he had a cut on his forehead where the hound had hit him, but he was all right. He nodded at the group. “You got them all? Good.” He nodded to Lawson. “We’ll have to do something about that wound or you’ll bleed out,” he said, motioning to the gaping wound in Lawson’s belly.
“It’s not that bad,” Lawson said.
Bliss grimaced, noticing for the first time the Swiss-cheese pattern of wounds that littered his torso. His shirt was steeped in blood.
Lawson began to protest, but Arthur would hear none of it. “Malcolm, collect the healing ointments. Rafe, Edon, reinforce the wards around the cave.” The boys left for their tasks.
“What do you need, Arthur?” Bliss asked.
“Help me get his clothes off first. I’ll get some warm compresses,” Arthur said, leaving them together.
“You don’t have to stay,” Lawson said. “I can take off my own clothes.”
“It’s fine,” Bliss said. “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she snapped.
“You might be surprised,” he said.
