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And since blood and human and smoke and clan were the only scents in the air, they were undeniably clan, even if their magic was fractured. How had this happened?
They stood together, swatting at the wolves as if they were nothing more than irritating pests, but they didn’t seem entirely certain what to do next. At least until the brown beast stepped forward, raised his muzzle to the sky, and let out a howl that lifted every hair on the back of my neck... and had the monster paying attention.
He threw out his hand and sent a black wolf flying through the air, until it landed with a horrible whimper on the dirt twenty feet away. It rolled to its belly, whimpered again. Then rose on shaky legs, shook off the fall, and prepared to lunge again.
That had been first blood, at least between beasts and wolves, and the battle began.
The remaining wolves jumped forward, Connor in the lead. Ihad to work to tamp down my fear and let him fight his battle. And being an immortal, I pulled the dagger from my boot.
My fangs descended, my eyes silvered. Moonlight dripping down the blade, I ran forward to a human who lay facedown in the dirt, blood streaming from her arm. Her hair was long and brown, her body petite, and I had a horrible jolt at first, thinking I’d found Carlie dead.
I steeled myself, turned her gently, checked her pulse.
The woman wasn’t dead, and she wasn’t Carlie. There was a knot on her forehead, already purpling, and a gash across her cheek. I checked for obviously broken bones, decided she wasn’t wounded enough that she couldn’t be moved. I could carry her to the house, but I’d have to go through the fighting; that was too risky. I looked around, saw the remains of a small wooden structure—three sides sheltered from the wind—in a hilly patch of green. Probably a place used to feed grazing animals, and they’d plowed around it to set seeds in the ground.
I put away the dagger, picked her up, watched the fight for my chance to cross the battleground, and when the chance came, I ran. The ground was dry and hard, the furrows trip hazards that made every step dangerous. I dodged a piece of flaming wood thrown clear of the fire as the debris pile moved, settled.
I placed her beneath the shelter. She moaned when I put her down, eyes fluttering open. “What happened?”
“Just a little mishap at the party,” I said with a light tone, since the Supernaturals were supposed to be a secret. “A very hairy mishap.”
“What—,” she began, then sat up, her eyes growing wide as she saw a beast screaming in front of the fire, the flames reflected in her eyes.
Then her eyes rolled back, and she fainted.
“Probably for the best,” I said, then rose and turned to face the battle again.
The wolves had managed to separate the beasts, were taking them on individually. Connor had Brown, and they were lunging at each other, muzzles and claws already dripping with the other’s blood.
As always, the monster was jealous—of the blood, of the power, of the fight. But there were monsters enough here, and the broken magic of whatever had made the beasts. I couldn’t risk it. Not now.
No,I said, and tried to ignore the urgency of its pleas.
It was stronger, it assured me. It would fight better, and I had made a deal.
That I was actually having a conversation with the monster was a nightmare for another time. And yes, I could have used its strength. Probably could have used its amorality. But humans here had an odd relationship with the supernatural, and we had enough to deal with. I wasn’t going to make that worse with red eyes and violence that I couldn’t control.
I can’t deal now. It’s too dangerous.
I felt its anger then, the internal burn of fury that I was denying what it wanted. I doubled over with the sharp shock of pain.
I am dangerous,it said.
The silver beast roared, drawing my attention back to the fight. Two wolves lay on the ground, chests heaving. Red was in the same shape. Only Connor and another were still fighting, their attention focused on Brown and Black.
Silver saw me and began to move forward, the earth seeming to shudder with every step. Its paws were bigger than my head, and given those claws, it wouldn’t need an aspen stake to do plenty of damage.
If it kills me while we’re arguing,I told the monster,we both die. Step back.
I put my own magic behind the demand, and all the glamour I could muster. After a moment, the pain receded, and my mindbecame gloriously clear. But I knew the reprieve was temporary. I’d angered it, and while I won the battle, I had a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t win the next one. And possibly not the war.
Georgia was right. It was fighting me for control. And I was losing ground. But there wasn’t time to dwell on that now. The other war still raged, and I was one of the soldiers.
I pulled my dagger out again, worked to clear my mind of all but the blade and the enemy. I was vampire. I was predator. I had skills and power of my own. And I would use them.
Twenty feet away, Silver roared again, blood and saliva dripping from its fangs. There were cuts along its torso, tufts of hair and skin hanging from its legs where the wolves had gotten purchase with fang and claw.
And it looked pissed.
