47 TALIESIN
I’m on the farthest side of the perimeter when a white-hot spike of terror strikes me straight in the center of my chest.
Rory.
My wolf form pivots mid-stride, and I twist, bounding back in the direction of the trailer. What the fuck now?
As I tear into the final stretch of the orchard lane, the wind changes direction and I smell them.
Shifters, strangers, violence.
A savage snarl slips out as I immediately hunker down onto my belly, creeping forward slowly. Where is Ludo? That silent giant had morphed into a motherfucking minotaur. Could do with his giant fists right about now.
But he’s not here, so I’m on my own.
The wind is coming from the east. That’s good, the intruders can’t scent me. Still, I need to be cautious—even though all I want to do is go and tear throats out.
Slinking closer and closer until I’m on a small rise, still downwind, I finally get a partial view of what’s going on.
Basil, that brave, stupid kid, is face-down in the mud, seemingly unconscious. Right above him is a massive, nine-foot bear. It looks almost prehistoric.
Even as I watch, it begins to shift. The coarse, matted gray fur recedes, bones cracking until a tall, brutal-looking man stands in its place. He has dark, greasy hair and a jagged scar that completely bisects across half his face, pulling his lip into a mocking sneer.
Regan Fucking Grieves.
The Grieves family line has been in Ashgrave for decades, each newest generation getting more and more degenerate. Doyle Grieves moved from brothels to trafficking, obviously in league with that Carol Wingfield hag.
Scum. All of them.
And now desperate and on the run. And when a man runs out of options, he’ll do anything to survive.
“We just want the girl,” Regan bellows as he gestures to where Sky is being held with a blade to her throat. “She’s street trash, so let us take her. Why throw away your lives for a stray? Give us the girl and we walk.”
Nobody moves on the trailer porch. Rory is standing dead-still, but I can sense her air-magic vibrating. I can’t read Cosmo, London looks like he’s seen a ghost, but Francois? He’s planning.
Thank fuck.
My gaze turns back to Sky. It doesn’t make sense. Why are they so desperate for that skinny, parentless girl? Now I come to think of it, even pulling her from Quo was…extreme.
“You’re out-numbered and out-muscled,” Regan barks, looking around the clearing with an ugly grin. “And totally surrounded. One word from me, and my men will level the place and all of you with it.”
Is that true?
Sniffing the air deeply, I track the scents. There are four men with automatic weapons in the clearing with Regan. And in the treeline, another bear shifter, a hyena and a wolverine. Plus a beast high up in a pine that I can’t identify.
Nine.
Trying to work out my next move, I focus back on the trailer in time to see Francois stepping back into the main body of the double-wide. What’s he up to?
A beat later, my attention snatches on a slim, dark green snake exiting a ventilation grate low down in the aluminum siding. Clever. He disappears into the long, frozen, dead grass.
The golden bond between us all vibrates. Francois is honing in on me.
After a long minute, the snake slithers up the mound, its body instantly expanding and tailoring back into human form. Francois kneels beside me in the frozen weeds, his pupils still flattened into sharp basilisk slits.
“I counted the heartbeats,” he says.
I shift back to human as well. “Nine.”
He nods. “We take out the ones in the treeline first. Silently, so they don’t know the back-up is gone.”
“Do you want the bear, hyena, wolverine, or the mystery beast?”
Francois looks grim. “The one perched up high is some kind of bird-shifter—and powerful. Very powerful.”
Great. “We’ll do this in stages. I'll take the wolverine to the west first, you go further north and kill the hyena. The bear looks fucking muscle-bound, so maybe we team up on that one, then end with the killer-bird?”
“Agreed.”
Dropping back into my wolf, I melt back into the thick woods. My paws don't make a sound as I trace the ridge towards my target.
But first I have to pass over the gravel lane. That’s where they’ve left their vehicles. Completely vulnerable.
With an easy swipe, my claws sink deep into the thick rubber. As the tire deflates, I dart to the second truck, slashing the front tires until the rims sink heavily into the frozen mud.
A moment later, the scent of greasy fur and stale sweat hits me. The wolverine shifter has moved closer. I leave the ruined trucks behind and edge nearer.
Through the rapidly descending dark, I see him.
He’s planted behind a thicket of brambles; all sinewy muscle and bone, but not a problem for me.
I launch myself straight through the briars, aiming directly for his exposed throat.
My jaws clamp down and it’s too fucking easy.
With only a couple of viscous shakes, the wolverine’s neck snaps.
There isn’t a pause to enjoy my victory though. I realize the bear-shifter has moved closer. Fuck, he’ll smell me, or the blood of his comrade, any second. That will lose me the element of surprise.
I guess I'm going solo.
Unlike the wolverine, the bear’s neck looks too thick to snap; it’s protected with thick slabs of hardened fat. Moving closer, I can see his yellow eyes are fixed on the trailer, as ropes of saliva drip from his massive jaw.
And apparently he hasn’t heard or smelled me yet. This is it. I have to go.
NOW.
I lunge, trying to read any spots of vulnerability mid-pounce. Gods. I guess the throat. But as my jaws clamp down, I don't hit soft flesh. It feels like biting directly into stone.
The bear lets out a deafening roar, his massive paw swings around catching me square in the ribs.
The force throws me several body-lengths away until I hit the trunk of an old oak, hard enough to make the branches rattle.
Can’t breathe.
Get up. Fight.
I can do this. I force myself up before he can crush me, snapping wildly as he lunges again. We roll into the frost-covered ground, a chaotic, bloody tangle.
Eyes—his eyes are vulnerable.
I slash at the bear’s face, opening red trenches that run unfortunately shallow.
The fucker doesn't even flinch. He fights with the blunt, unstoppable momentum of a landslide. I snap and claw with everything I’ve got, but he towers over me, bringing both his giant paws down in a brutal double-hammer fist.
Even though I lurch to one side, he still catches me on the left side of my skull.
The world goes white as high-pitched ringing explodes in my ears.
Don’t pass out, I’m fucked if I pass out.
But my vision is darkening. My limbs feel heavy and useless.
The bear doesn't stay to finish me. Instead he crashes through the brush, racing blindly toward the open clearing.
Move, Tally. Move.
I’m shifting without choosing to do so, the brain-blow scrambling my circuits. As I drag my dazed, aching, human body to my feet, the terrifying sound of gunfire blasts out from near the trailer.
Shit.
Stumbling, half-blind, I arrive at the treeline just in time to see a massive bird falling from on high. Its wingspan has to be twenty-feet across. Talons curved, its cruel beak opens and it screeches so loud my ears hurt.
“Move!” Cosmo roars jumping from the porch steps. His skin erupts into brilliant, shimmering golden scales as his body expands, his dragon forming within seconds as he leaps into the air.
Ludo is there too. Or at least the minotaur that was once Ludo. His chest has tripled in size and he lowers a pair of massive, curved obsidian horns as he charges straight into the fray. Two of the thugs with guns fire in his direction but the bullets seem to be almost bouncing off his skin.
“London! Get Basil!” Rory screams over the deafening roars. The faun pivots mid-air, changing his trajectory to scramble toward the kid's limp body.
Rory turns her focus to Regan Grieves. He’s the one who now holds Sky.
“LET HER GO!” she screams.
My beautiful girl is pulsing with an unearthly silver light. Magnificent and furious.
Head still swimming, I clutch the nearest tree to stop myself from falling as her physical body dissolves into a violent, churning column of gale-force wind.