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The man fell on her, straddling her hips and pinning her to the ground. He reached down and pulled her gun from its holster, then tossed it several feet away in the dirt.
“You won’t be needing that, Miss Duffy.”
Shannon quickly dropped her eyes to Blaylocke’s hips with the thought that she might be able to snatch one of his own guns to use against him—but his guns were gone, along with his belt and holsters.
“I ain’t stupid,” the man said with a laugh. “I took my guns off and set ’em down over yonder while you was taking a piss.”
His voice was completely different now, as if he had transformed into another person.
Shannon tried to sit up and lash out at him, but he caught her arms and shoved her back down. His face was mere inches from her own, and she could smell the sour odor of stale coffee on his breath.
“Ain’t nobody for miles around,” he hissed. “Why don’t you just lay back and take what’s coming, girly?”
Shannon spit in his face.
“Bitch!” the man snarled.
He raised himself up and struck her hard across the face with the backside of his hand. Stars exploded across her vision.
When she finally regained her bearings, Blaylocke’s hand was on the collar of her shirt. With a violent motion, he ripped it open, baring her chest to the hot desert sun. The man grunted with excitement, and palmed one of her breasts, squeezing it until she cried out in pain.
Blaylocke just laughed.
“Scream all you want, bitch. Ain’t nobody gonna hear you out here ’cept the harpies.”
He dropped his hands to the front of his pants, and Shannon immediately started fighting him again. She tried to swing at his face, but her arms weren’t long enough, so she punched his chest and arms.
“Stop that!” Blaylocke growled.
He forced her over onto her belly. Shannon tried to resist, but the man was too strong for her. He pinned one wrist behind her back and twisted until it felt like it was going to break. Shannon stopped struggling and lay still.
“That’s better,” Blaylocke said. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you.”
Shannon could hear his other hand fumbling with the buttons of his fly again. Then she heard his pants sliding down.
“Right where I want you…”
She felt his naked arousal pressing against her bare backside, and her mouth flooded with disgust. Ignoring the pain in her pinned arm, she flung her other arm back with all her might, driving her elbow back into the bastard’s head with a sharp crack.
“Fuck!” Blaylocke roared. “You fuckin’ bitch!”
Shannon brought her arm forward to strike again, but this time Blaylocke caught it, and her sleeve tore away from her shoulder to her elbow. The man gasped behind her, and she knew the reason why.
He could see the golden pattern emblazoned on her upper arm.
He could see her sign.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Blaylocke wheezed behind her. “You’re a—”
His words cut off in soft grunt, and the weight of his body suddenly disappeared from on top of her. There was a momentary rush of wind, and he was just gone.
Then the screaming started.
The screaming and the snarling.
Shannon rolled onto her side and looked in the direction of the sound. What she saw made her blood go cold in her veins.
Blaylocke—or at least what was left of him—was pinned down beneath the biggest wolf Shannon had ever seen. The thing was the size of a bear, but its shape was unmistakably canine. Powerful muscles flexed and trembled beneath its tawny red fur.
