and shoved, delivering a jab to the throat with the other. She pivoted, breaking free. As she sprang to her feet, she struck out with a sharp kick to his head. The wolf fell back.
She grimaced. No more nice witch.
She unleashed her magic again, the bright blue flame of a full stun smashing into the werewolf’s side. He flew through the air, smacked into two trees, and dropped. His legs twitched once.
Her eyes narrowed as she waited to see if the fight was over. When he didn’t move, Ari turned to the kids. “You OK?”
The boy squinted at his friend in the dim light. “Yeah, I think so. Becca, you OK?” When the girl nodded, he looked back at Ari. “Was that what I think it was?”
Ari raised a brow. “Depends. If you think it’s a werewolf, then, yeah. You don’t want to mess with them.”
“No kidding,” he muttered, throwing another glance at the wolf. “Sure is a big sucker. Never seen one before. Not up close.”
And you’re lucky you survived the introduction, Ari thought. Why didn’t these kids stay where they belonged? Where they were safe? Olde Town was no place for the inexperienced or the faint of heart.
She sighed and shifted her attention to the girl he’d called Becca. Now the danger had passed, she sniffed and blinked back tears. Ari looked her over for injuries. Becca wore a mini skirt and tights, now ripped at the knees. “Are these from the wolf?” Ari pointed to the scratches.
“No, I fell. When it was chasing us.” Becca fingered her torn leggings. “Guess I won’t wear these again.”
Ari nodded, relieved that Becca didn’t have something worse to worry about. No danger of lycanthropy, an incurable shape-shifter virus with a 20 percent chance of transmission. While natural-born werewolves were proud of their heritage, those changed by infection frequently felt very differently. Some resorted to suicide. It was a tough adjustment. At least in this case the kids wouldn’t have to face that possibility. They were white-faced and shaken from their experience but otherwise okay.
“Are you some kind of cop?” Becca asked.
“How’d you do that zapping thing?” the boy interrupted. “Awesome! Had to be magic.”
“Witch magic,” Ari said, dusting off her jeans and inspecting the bloodstain on her white top. Her favorite white top. “I’m Ari. A special kind of cop. I patrol the park, among other things.” She gave them a knowing look. “You know you’re not supposed to be here. It’s off-limits at night.”
“We weren’t hurting anything.” The boy turned his head away. “Just messing around.” His neck turned red as he spoke.
Uh-huh. Ari cut off an automatic grin of understanding. She had been fifteen not so long ago. Eight years hadn’t destroyed her memory.
“Well, I don’t care what you were doing. You can’t do it in Olde Town. Go back to Riverdale before he wakes up.” She jerked her head toward the wolf.
That got their attention.
“Holy crap, I thought it was dead.” The boy snatched his ball cap from the ground and helped Becca brush the pine needles off her jacket. She jerked the jacket zipper closed and turned toward Ari, starting to say something. Before she got the words out, she focused on something behind Ari. “Look out!”
Ari whirled into a crouch, prepared to fight. But there was no immediate danger. The werewolf staggered to his feet, his body swaying with the aftereffects of the stuns. He raised his snout, sniffed the air, and swung his massive head toward Ari. The yellow eyes locked on hers for a long moment. Predatory, assessing…a warning, even? He shifted his focus to the kids. When the muscles in his haunches tightened, Ari moved to block a new attack.
Behind her, the teens raced toward the east gate and the bright lights of Riverdale. Their self-preservation instincts had kicked in. Finally. Sometimes, there are damned good reasons to flee from the bogeyman in the dark.
Ari glared at the wolf. “OK, big boy. Your move.”
Her fingers tingled with anticipation. Full firepower. Whatever energy the earlier fight had used up, her levels had already recharged. It didn’t look like the wolf could say the same.
He shook his fur, as if attempting to shed the remaining dizziness. Taking a step toward her, he stumbled sideways. With a last snarl in her direction, he turned toward the woods. Stretching his legs into a lope, he stumbled again and settled into an uneven hobble. The graceless exit left a trail of snapping branches as he crashed through the