Chapter 18
The room barely contained five massive wolves, all of them seething with fury. Their heads brushed the ceiling, and their clawed feet dug trenches in the bare wooden floor, while their growling filled the air.
Clara had seen Des and Gideon as wolves, and the sight still struck awe into her, yet she’d never seen Hugh in this form, who was covered in black and gray fur, and was particularly burly.
Bram’s fur was golden and thick on his strapping body.
Liam wasn’t as tall as the other wolves, but he was wider, with deep brown fur enveloping his dense form.
Their eyes all glowed with rage.
The Guardians started at being confronted by the wolves—surely, they’d been anticipating a much easier fight between themselves and five human men—but they pressed forward, determined to have their kill.
Three of the wolves—Hugh, Bram, and Liam—launched themselves at one set of Guardians. Clara stuck close as Des and Gideon charged the other pair of intruders.
Gideon and Des grabbed the Guardians’ hands, wrestling their guns up into the air.
The Guardians grunted with effort to hold the wolves back.
Two loud bangs sounded as the pistols discharged.
Clara ducked. One bullet lodged in the ceiling, and the second struck the wall. Chips of plaster rained down.
The Guardians dropped their now useless weapons. The two attackers reached for the silver-lined swords at their waists. Yet before they could draw their blades, Gideon and Des shoved the Guardians out of the room and into the hallway.
Des threw an intruder onto the ground. He pinned the Guardian in place with his foot, then swiped with his claws at the Guardian’s throat. Blood sprayed onto Des’s fur and spattered on the walls.
Gideon grabbed the second Guardian by the back of the neck. He gave the attacker one hard shake. There was a snapping sound, and the man’s head lolled, his eyes going sightless. Gideon dropped the Guardian’s lifeless body onto the floor.
Clara drew a breath. She stepped over the corpses. “Follow me.”
She turned back to the hidden chamber. There, they found Hugh, Liam, and Bram standing over the bodies of three Guardians. A red gash cut across Liam’s forearm, and there were cracks in the ceiling and wall. Liam didn’t pay attention to the blood he dripped onto the floor.
More footsteps sounded close by—reinforcements for the Guardians.
“With me.” Clara motioned for the wolves to follow.
Once she was sure they were all accompanying her, she opened another panel leading to the secret passage.
If it was difficult to fit them as men into the passageway, now, in their massive wolf forms, it was nearly impossible.
Their shoulders were too wide, and they had to bend down to keep from hitting their heads against the ceiling.
They were forced to edge sideways as she darted down the narrow corridor, guiding them.
She emerged in an upstairs parlor. A pair of sofas flanked a small table, and a set of small windows looked out on the back garden. Once all the wolves had entered the room, she pointed to a large cabinet in the corner.
“Put that in front of the door,” she directed.
Gideon and Hugh did as she commanded, lifting the heavy piece of furniture with ease. They wedged it in front of the door.
“They won’t get through that,” Bram growled.
“We aren’t done,” Clara answered. She motioned them back into the hidden passageway.
Inside the corridor, she led them to another room. This one was a gentleman’s private salon, with substantial, dark furniture that Clara had always intended to replace, as it had no use in her household, but had never gotten around to doing so.
Once she and the wolves were in the chamber, she motioned to a weighty and ornate escritoire, which, fortunately, the Ballantines had never tried to take.
“That, too,” she said to the wolves. “In front of the door.”
“You’re giving us no way out,” Bram complained.
“I’m giving them no way out,” she corrected.
At her words, Des and Hugh grabbed the desk and shoved it in front of the door, the feet digging deep gouges in the floorboards. A moment later, the door shook as Guardians attempted to gain entry. They pounded on the door until it shuddered on its hinges, spreading fractures through the walls.
“Back in,” Clara said, pointing to the passageway. The wolves immediately complied. She took them through the cramped corridor, weaving through the house.
She pulled open a panel, and they now stood on the landing at the top of the front stairs.
Guardians appeared at either end of the landing, two on one side, two on the other. All four of the intruders had their swords out, and they readied to strike.
Without waiting for their enemies to attack, Gideon and Hugh hurled themselves at one of the Guardians. Gideon grabbed him, holding him in place. Hugh used his claws to strike. The man screamed as Hugh tore his chest open, blood spurting onto the whitewashed walls.
Another Guardian slashed his blade across Des’s thigh. Crimson welled from the wound, Des grunted in pain but lunged for his attacker. He sank his teeth into the man’s shoulder. There was another scream, more blood, and then the Guardian collapsed.
As they fought on the landing, five Guardians swept into the entryway below. Three drew their swords, a fourth held what appeared to be a long halberd, while the fifth carried a blunderbuss. Clara didn’t care for the odds.
Bram grabbed one of the remaining Guardians on the landing.
He hefted the man over his head and threw him through the railing and down into the foyer.
The flying Guardian knocked down several of the intruders standing there while debris from the railing fell onto them.
The remaining enemy on the landing took one look at his fallen comrades, then ran down the stairs to join the others.
Led by Gideon, the wolves leapt over the broken railing.
They landed amidst the startled Guardians, the heft of their bodies cracking the entryway’s marble floor tiles. There was a moment’s stillness as the wolves crouched, growling at their enemies. The Guardians drew themselves up, preparing for battle.
The wolves launched themselves into combat.
From her place on the landing, it was a blur of motion below.
Gideon slashed at a Guardian. He ripped a jagged tear in the intruder’s throat and there was a gurgling scream.
The Guardian with the halberd charged Gideon from behind.
Des yanked him back and cut his claws across the man’s chest. Hugh grappled with one enemy, and Bram and Liam circled around another.
The wolves and men hurled each other into the walls, crashing into side tables. Furniture broke apart, and paintings were knocked off their hooks. Chunks of plaster fell from the walls. It was a seething mass of fur and leather.
The intruder with the blunderbuss separated himself from the fight, searching for a target.
“Look out!” Clara called.
Yet the noise below was too great, and no one heard her.
The Guardian pointed his weapon at Hugh, who was distracted by his fight with another Guardian.
Clara snatched up a pistol from one of the nearby fallen Guardians. Running to the edge of the landing, she aimed the gun. Pulled the trigger.
The invader with the blunderbuss dropped to the ground, shot through the throat. His weapon fell from his hands, clattering on the marble tiles, which cracked even more from the force.
The sound seemed to rouse the remaining intruders from their battle frenzy. In a daze, they looked around at their companions’ bodies. Everywhere were fallen Guardians, the ground wet with their blood. The wolves snarled, their claws scarlet, ready to continue the fight.
A second later, one of the invaders hauled open the front door. He didn’t look back as he ran. The survivors followed, fleeing on foot for the safety of the forest. Bram and Liam sped after them. A moment later, three screams pierced the air.
Bram and Liam returned, their claws dripping red.
All that was left in the manor was the dead intruders, and five slightly battered but very much alive werewolves. The house, however, was in shambles. Broken furniture, doors hanging off of their hinges, gouges in the walls from bullets and claws, broken marble tiles. Bloodstains everywhere.
Clara stood on the landing, surveying everything, a smoking pistol still in her hand.
“Lads,” Des growled, looking up at her, “looks like we have a new pack leader.”