Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Nina
The beast was on her before her eyes had time to adjust to the gloom of the alley.
Heavy paws pushed her into metal rubbish bins.
They clattered as they tipped over and she slammed into the hard ground.
Mud that had been squishy under her feet was suddenly rock solid.
It stank like stagnant river water and garbage.
She screamed, she was sure she did, because the moment she hit the ground, the air left her chest and there was only the sound of a growl.
Surprise and panic flowed hot through her, distracting her from the frustration of not sensing the beast. That was her purpose, after all.
Nina rolled onto her back, kicking at the beast. He loomed over her, large and blocking the minimal light. Her foot connected but did little. A large clawed hand swiped down, knocking the pistol out of her grip and onto the ground.
Nina twisted and lifted herself to her hands and knees. The beast lunged down, its hot breath on her, and snagged her cloak into its maw. The clasp pulled against her throat, choking her.
She cried in distress, reaching for the clasp. It broke away and she fell forward, catching herself with her hands.
The metal of the pistol glinted in the moonlight.
She scrambled forward, desperate for the weapon.
She barely had the training for this. As a child, she learned to shoot and how to defend herself in a fight, but that was years ago.
Those skills atrophied if not used and rather than stay in Sweetwater Point and hone those skills as she learned from her elders, her mother sent Nina away to finishing school to polish away her rough accent. After that, she studied law.
Nina hated it then and she hated it now because it left her helpless, unless Ben Jollett was interested in discussing common law or playing the pianoforte. She couldn’t track, she couldn’t fight… she was useless.
A heavy paw hit her in the middle of her back, sending her back to the frozen ground. The pistol was just out of reach. She rolled to the side and sprang to her feet. Nothing good would happen as long as she lay prone on the ground.
Nina drew the dagger that was in her boot. She pointed the silver blade at the beast but it seemed laughably small. What could her little dagger hope to achieve against a beast twice her size?
The beast—Ben Jollett—snarled. His face was almost human, like a waxen mask had melted and reshaped itself. The nose was wrong. The teeth were sharp and very wrong. The jaw certainly opened far too wide. Every inch was covered in thick dark fur. Despite all this, he was recognizably human.
Maybe it was the white patch on his chin humanizing him, but Nina hoped he wasn’t completely lost to the monster. She said, “You need to gain control of yourself, Ben.”
He took a step closer, hot breath wafting over her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
The beast huffed, as if amused. How could she possibly hope to hurt him when he so flawlessly demonstrated how easily he could hurt her?
With her teeth, she pulled off the glove from her free hand and reached for the whistle hiding under her shirt. Eyes never leaving the beast, she fumbled through the many layers to find the cord around her neck. Her fingers were numb and clumsy but she found her prize.
The whistle was sharp and shrill. The beast lunged. She moved to the side, whistle clamped between her lips. At least she could still dodge. That skill hadn’t completely vanished.
The beast’s paw snagged the cord and pulled until it snapped.
Nina swiped her blade at the beast’s face, the edge glancing off of something. With her luck, it was fur and she gave the werewolf a trim.
The beast swung again. This time she was less nimble and he caught her. It was a solid blow to her ribs. She stumbled into the side of a building, landing hard against the wood siding.
Nina pushed herself upright. This wasn’t a fight she could win. The beast overpowered her in every way that mattered. She needed to run.
So, she turned tail and ran.
And promptly tripped over the overturned rubbish bins.
A dagger sailed overhead and landed in the beast’s shoulder. He roared in pain.
Nina knew that knife. It was part of a matching set made by her great-great-so-and-so uncle, the blacksmith, an artifact enhanced with the power of the Nexus to fight monsters.
Lucas stood to the mouth of the alley, blocking the exit, the other dagger in his hand.
The beast charged Lucas, completely ignoring Nina. She scrambled to her feet, acutely aware of the pain in her ribs and the numbness in her gloveless hands.
With her dagger in hand, Nina ran at the beast. She sank her blade into its back. The beast turned its snout and snapped but was otherwise unaffected. It shook her off, knocking her into the mud.
She grabbed the lid to the rubbish bin. It was bent but solid. She swung it wide, clipping the beast in the shoulder. It turned, roaring in annoyance, and she hit it again in the head.
The beast staggered back.
The dagger sailed from Lucas’ hand, this time planting itself in the beast’s eye. While the beast pawed at its face, claws flailing wildly, Lucas dashed in to retrieve the dagger from the shoulder.
A clawed hand connected with Lucas’ abdomen. Fabric tore. Lucas grunted but gave no indication of pain.
Nina jumped on the beast’s back, one arm around its neck and the other driving her dagger into the injured shoulder.
“The cuffs!” Lucas shouted, clutching his stomach.
Nina reached down to her belt and found nothing. “I dropped them.”
The beast lunged forward, entirely focused on Lucas and ignoring Nina clinging to his back. Huge paws swiped at Lucas, who moved sluggishly. This wasn’t going to end well.
“Here.” Pearson held up a pair of silver cuffs and tossed them to Nina.
She reached up to catch them, losing her grip and falling back to her feet. Not to worry. She darted to the side and clamped a band on the beast’s wrist.
His entire body stilled, then he flung his arms wide and roared. It must have rattled windows because it rattled Nina’s bones.
Pearson used a rope to wrap around the beast’s legs. He pulled and the beast toppled over. Nina took the opportunity to wrestle the beast’s other arm into position to secure the cuffs.
“There,” she said, hands on hips and only a little out of breath. “One werewolf hogtied.”
“This is not a sideshow,” Pearson muttered.
Lucas said nothing.
“What do you think, sheriff?” she asked.
Her cousin held himself up with one arm against the side of the building, the other wrapped around his abdomen. Blood seeped through the fabric and between his fingers, dripping onto the ground.
“Lucas?”
The sheriff fell to his knees.
Anthony
The deputy—Nina—was remarkably composed as she unwound the scarf from around her neck and pressed it to the sheriff’s bleeding abdomen. Calm. Competent. Both admirable qualities.
“Lucas, stop fighting me,” she said, steely resolve in her voice.
Three soldiers now gathered in the alleyway’s narrow mouth.
Anthony removed the dagger still lodged in the beast’s eye. It vibrated in his hand.
An artifact. The edge glowed violet.
The other dagger had fallen to the ground. He retrieved it, wrapped them both in a handkerchief, and slid the set into the inner pocket of his greatcoat.
“Secure Jollett and put a muzzle on him. Take him back to base,” he ordered. “I’ll deal with him later.”
Nina muttered reassurance to the unconscious sheriff. Frankly, Anthony thought it was a blessing to be passed out. She lifted her gaze to Anthony’s. “Don’t just stand there. We need a surgeon.”
Yes, that was a concerning amount of blood.
“The town’s sawbones is a drunk. We’ll use my surgeon,” he said. Pointing to the nearest soldier not currently wrestling with the extremely uncooperative werewolf, he ordered, “Go to the fort. Fetch Doctor Garza.”
Nina shook her head. “It’s too far. Get Doctor Bell.”
She pressed her hands against the sheriff’s stomach. Blood seeped out between her fingers. Time was of the essence. The sheriff did not have the luxury of waiting for a trip to the fort and back.
“Will he be sober?” Anthony asked.
“Dammit, Pearson, you could be there by now. Stop being an ass.”
Fair.
A soldier looked to Pearson for confirmation.
“Make it happen,” he said. “Quick.”
A single soldier took off at a run while the other two used rope and cuffs on Jollett. He fought, snapping his teeth.
“Put a muzzle on him first. If you don’t have a muzzle, stuff his mouth with your gloves.”
The sheriff moaned.
“Hush. The doc will be here soon,” Nina said to him, even though he appeared to be unconscious. She brushed back the hair from his forehead, leaving a smear of blood.
There was so much blood.
The scarf did a piss -poor job of stopping the bleed, no matter how much pressure she applied. She looked around, as if realizing this, and searched for an alternative, which was the muddy cloak on the ground. Her hand reached for it.
“Use this.” Anthony removed his greatcoat and offered it to her.
“You’ll freeze.”
“Back home we call this a pleasant day,” he said. “I’m not made of sugar.”
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the coat.
Folded in half, it covered Lucas like a blanket but it did stem the flow of blood.
“We should move him indoors. Somewhere more hygienic,” he said.
“Wychwood House isn’t far.”
“The tavern is closest. Plenty of light for the doctor.” And a fire to dry off by.
“Are you suggesting The Muddy Mudfish is hygienic? I’ve seen their kitchen.”
“Yes, I imagine they don’t scrub down the tables daily.”
“If ever,” she said.
“You do realize how serious an injury like his is?” Anthony asked. “If he doesn’t bleed out, he’ll become infected and wish he had bled out.”
She gave him a glare sharp enough to cut. Fortunately, Anthony was impervious to glares.
“All the more reason to be home, isn’t it?” she snapped.
“As you command.” With a grunt, Anthony lifted the unconscious sheriff into his arms. The greatcoat, now ruined, shifted but did not fall. “Lead on.”