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Rudy and Tomas, still only partly changed, dove in to drag a brindle stranger out from under scuffling claws. The stranger lay motionless under the bushes, but he stayed in his fur, so he was still alive.
The remainder wove an intricate Celtic knot. The object was to wound and not be touched. To be wounded was to be disqualified. Jaws snapped, paws danced, bodies lunged, then rolled aside.
Vivian noticed the brothers, Raul and Rolf, on opposite sides of the fray. They would avoid each other if they could. Bucky had no such qualms about the two buddies he usually hung with. He feinted at one, then veered and sank his teeth into the others throat. Gabriel took the first one by surprise when he ducked Bucky's feint, and ripped a hole in his shoulder; then Gabriel turned his fangs back to the blond stranger, who retreated quickly.
Bucky brought his opponent down. They rolled, a growling mass of fur and spume, but Bucky kept his grip, forcing his teeth through the thick pelt. He must have tasted blood, because he released his hold, scrambled to all fours, and raised his muzzle in a brief triumphant howl. Vivian found she was howling, too. She choked it off in surprise.
Bucky spun around to protect his back. It wasn't wise to savor victory long. His defeated friend slunk toward the edge of the clearing, his belly close to the ground.
In the center, Gabriel and the blond stranger circled each other warily, their hackles spiked and their teeth bared. Rolf edged by them, intent on a gray who stood momentarily disengaged, his sides heaving.
That was a mistake.
The blond lunged, savaged Rolf's nose, and swung back to Gabriel in a snarling heartbeat.
Meanwhile, someone took out Raul; Vivian didn't know who, but she saw Jean lay low the gray, who had only made it this far from dumb luck.
Gabriel and the blond still circled stiff-legged. Their lips were wrinkled into masks of hatred; their sinews trembled with the stress of restraint. Gabriel struck, missed, tumbled, and was back on four feet before the blonde's teeth clicked on air.
Bucky herded two other strangers like sheep. Jean joined him. They made short work of the unknown pair, and Vivian's heart thumped with the beauty of their fierce symmetry.
Then they had only each other to turn on.
They faced off, their jaws parted in laughter. Bucky glanced over at Gabriel and the blond, then back at Jean. He cocked his head and Vivian knew he said, "It's just us, buddy, unless you wanna come between them?"
Jean deliberately lifted his leg and sent a short stream of urine shooting in their direction. The message was clear: "Piss on that."
Vivian smiled at their banter, her mouth wide and toothy.
They broke apart, turned, gathered speed; they leaped and met in midair.
Bucky knocked Jean askew and landed straddling him. Now for the quick nip, Vivian thought, and Jean is out.
But Jean went for Bucky's throat. Bucky jerked away. He lost his footing and the laughter left his eyes. Jean tried to wriggle out from beneath while Bucky was off guard, but Bucky found Jean's belly under his chin. He buried his teeth in Jean's stomach. Jean screamed. It was either that sound or the smell of blood, but Bucky went crazy. He ripped and ripped and ripped, while Jean shrieked.
Vivian staggered with shock as Jean's entrails splattered the ground. But they were laughing, she thought. She looked around for someone to make Bucky stop, but these were all strangers about her, with froth on their lips and lolling tongues, lost in the kill, urging Bucky on. Their eyes stole the silver moon and turned it red. A chill shuddered through her, despite the hot, acrid air.
Gabriel and the blond circled the pair on the ground with their tails held high. The blond whined and made little nips with his teeth as if he longed to join in, but Gabriel twitched his nose at the smell of carnage and growled. It was his right to kill, his or the blonde's, not Bucky's. He dragged Bucky off by the scruff of his neck and tossed him aside.
The blond lunged. He caught Bucky's throat in his jaws and shook him wildly. Vivian saw surprise in Bucky's eyes. He's going to die, she thought. But Gabriel jumped the blond from behind, and the blond let go with a yelp. Bucky fell over the body of Jean and sprawled on the blood-soaked earth. Jean shuddered into his human form. He twitched once, then lay still - motionless, ruined meat.
The blond turned on Gabriel, teeth bared. He wouldn't concede. No one had thought he would. There would be another death before the night was through.
They clashed in rolling, snarling fur, parted, then clashed again, the wounds opening wetly in their hides as if they were ripe fruit bursting. Vivian didn't care who won. She didn't want to watch but couldn't stop. Why did they have to make their beauty foul? What kind of people were they that they'd kill their friends? What kind of people invited strangers to a ritual death? Wasn't the joy of the run and the sweet, sweet night enough?
The end came suddenly, just when she thought the fight would go on forever while she burned to cinders from shame.
Gabriel grabbed a firm hold on the blonde's thick ruff and leaped over his back, and the blonde's head twisted impossibly. Vivian heard a crack. The blonde's eyes bulged. He went limp. Gabriel let go, and the blond crashed to the ground, his head lolling. A dribble of blood ran from his lips. How easy it was, like killing a chicken for Sunday dinner. Revulsion squirmed like an eel in Vivian's gut and finally she could close her eyes.
She stood silently as the howls rose up around her, but she couldn't blot them out - Gabriel's thundering bay; Orlando's cracked, keening bell; the twining tenors of Rolf and Raul. The song was triumphant, hungry, impassioned. Her mother's soprano climbed to outrageous heights, and the young ones mimicked her, their reedy pipings swiftly turning hoarse. Even the Five were back, their voices lewd and raucous. The pack drew in close for the feel of fur on fur. The smell of sex was all around. Cubs would be fathered tonight. Vivian tucked her tail between her legs.
Then Esmé screamed and Vivian's eyes shot open.
Esmé twisted in circles like a puppy chasing her tail. She snapped at her back where Astrid straddled her, muzzle buried in Esmé's mane.
Vivian found her voice and yowled a complaint, searching face after face for a sign of help, but the others backed off and formed a ring. Rage surged through her. The fur stood on end down her spine and the backs of her legs. This was the female who'd mated their leader, had been a queen, and they let her be ambushed by that cheating red bitch. Astrid rode her like a rodeo bull and they didn't raise tooth or claw to help her.
Astrid shifted her grip and Esmé yelped.
