Chapter 20 #2
All the while, she was being carried steadily toward the door. The only reason she wasn’t there already was that her captor had to avoid the battle.
Panic clawed at her throat. Not just for her, but Hank, too. The terror of being dragged away against her will and the rapid violence in front of her. Too fast to process except for panic. Too much to see except chaos and blood.
And Hank. In the center with flashing teeth and claws.
Then something flew at her. Something large and furry. She barely saw it coming when she felt the impact. A wolf, heavy and squirming. It knocked her off her feet. More important, he slammed her captor backward as well.
She felt the impact as the bastard holding her crunched against the kitchen counter.
She was breathless and squished, but also suddenly free.
While the huge werewolf scrambled away, she fell forward onto her knees.
She started moving as fast as she could.
Away from the assholes. And screaming loudly.
Someone had to help them. Someone—
Something touched her foot and she kicked out, snapping a wolf head back. Take that, beta big shot. Take this as my rejection of your job offer. Then she heard a roar, and this time it was low and very bearlike.
Hank!
She looked up to see blood burst from his neck and shoulder. Oh damn, damn, damn. One of the wolves had opened up his neck. That was bad. His entire left arm was dangling useless, though he still swung viciously arcs with his right.
Who was left standing? Who was still moving?
She did a quick scan. Her captor was on the floor, his spine possibly broken given the way he was clawing with his upper body. But then she saw him shimmer and change. The man became a wolf with fully functioning legs.
Fuck.
The one who had been thrown into her was still on his feet, too.
He was spinning around to get a bead on Hank, though he seemed slower than he’d been before.
And the one who had tried to bite her? He was recovering as well, though she could see a pool of blood spilling out of his belly.
And maybe intestines, too. Could wolves recover from being disemboweled?
She had to do something so she grabbed the first thing she could. Her desk chair. A metal thing on wheels. She slammed it into the one still on the floor and gleefully watched as it also fouled the footing of the guy who’d just shifted into a wolf.
And then there was another yelp and more blood. She didn’t need to look because the third werewolf landed with his throat slit on top of the chair before flopping down on the gutted wolf.
Which left the last one standing on shaking legs. The one who should have had his spine broken. He looked at his bleeding companions then back at Hank. Then he dashed for the door. Except the door was shut, and wolves can’t open them. His front paws scrambled at the knob to no avail.
Hank advanced, lumbering steadily forward while blood poured from his neck. Not spurting, she realized. Not arterial, but it was still bad.
“You want out?” she screamed at the wolf. “Back up!”
She pushed onto shaky legs. Hank roared out a bellow, but she wanted the wolves out. Not dead. Just gone.
The bastard dog backed up, his claws digging into the thin carpet while Hank dropped from his upright position to all fours. Cecilia half crawled, half walked to the door and hauled it open. She barely jumped back in time to avoid being clipped by the last wolf as he ran free.
She wanted to scream something vicious after him. Something mean and cutting, but she hadn’t the breath. Only weakness in her legs as she turned back to Hank. She had to stop the bleeding. She had to stitch…
He was shimmering bright gold as he turned back to human. Where before there’d been a blood-covered bear unsteady on his feet as he lumbered toward her. Now there was a naked Hank, his body twitching, his shoulder…neat and perfect.
Healed.
“Thank God!” she gasped as she closed the distance between them. Her arms were around him in a second, and he lifted her up to complete the embrace with one arm. But even as she held him tight, he maneuvered her to be on the far side from the remaining wolves. From the…bodies.
She didn’t have to look to know that the one who’d been disemboweled was probably dead by now. It wouldn’t have taken long. And God, the stench in the room was overwhelming. Blood and bile, not to mention spilled Frappuccinos.
“Hank,” she said against his neck. “Hank.” That was it. She just kept repeating his name while he buried his face in her neck.
Eventually he spoke to her. Or maybe he’d been speaking all along, but she hadn’t heard him. Anyway, she did now.
“…hurt? Cecilia?”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
And she was. He still set her gently away from him as he looked her up and down.
She took the time to inspect him as well.
He was perfect. Not even mussed, the hair and the blood all gone.
She, on the other hand, had bloodstains everywhere, but no damage.
No pain. Just really shaky as the adrenaline burned out of her body.
“Pack up,” he said to her softly. “I’m taking you away from here.”
No argument from her.
She accomplished it quickly with his help.
She didn’t even want to study the bodies.
It was too…She couldn’t even think of it.
Violence wasn’t a part of her life. Not like this.
And while she kept touching Hank to make sure he was here, to make sure he was safe, too, the rest of her was recoiling from the entire event.
What had just happened? The wolves had tried to abduct her? Why?
She stripped out of her clothes and changed into something that wasn’t bloody.
A shower would have to wait until the hospital.
Her electronics appeared to be fine, so that was all quickly packed up and put away.
Hank called someone to report the attack.
She didn’t care who so long as she didn’t have to handle it.
Then she was seated in Hank’s car, no longer busy with packing up. In the silence, the questions came back louder until finally she started asking them out loud. And even then, they didn’t come out how she intended.
“This world of yours is terrifying. You know that right?”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s your world, too. You just didn’t see it before.”
“Why would they attack like that?”
“For the exact reason they told you. You’re a brilliant scientist who knows about shifters. Do you know how rare you are? We need scientists. Doctors, researchers, the whole gamut. We need them to solve shifter problems.”
“Then why not just tell the world about you? Then everybody can—”
He shook his head. “You know why.”
“Magic again.”
“Do you think you’re the only one who’s tried? In thousands of years, lots of people have tried to tell.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Atlantis dropped into the ocean. Pompeii buried under lava.”
She let her head fall back against the seat. “That’s ancient history.”