be discovered, they took the offensive and rushed forward. They rounded a sharp corner and abruptly entered a large, open chamber.
A male werewolf walked toward them, barely fifteen feet away. Sheila and another male crouched beside a second campfire. A third was stirring what smelled like beef stew in a cooking pot. Three figures wrapped in blankets appeared to be asleep. Seven, Ari thought. More than expected.
The male in their path gave a startled cry, rousing his companions, and unleashing an uproar. The vampires poured into the room. One of the werewolves grabbed an Uzi and fired at them. He was still firing when they swarmed over him. Some of the wolves tried to escape into side tunnels. The vamps gave chase, and the wolves didn’t get far.
Sheila and two companions fled deeper into the cavern. Blood singing with magical rage, Ari hurled witch fire toward the retreating figures. Red and gold tentacles of flame arced across the room, just missing the she-wolf as she dodged around a corner. The wolf next to her wasn’t as lucky. He burst into flames. His screams bounced around the walls until Mike shot him. The second wolf retreated from the fire, running straight into Carmella. She sent him flying across the room with one flick of her hand.
When the witch fire hit the wall, the explosion took out a large section of rock. Chunks crashed to the floor, shattering into small projectiles. The damp walls sizzled with steam. Ari stood in the middle of the cavern, staring at the fire, which hadn’t died on impact. Glowing fingers spread over the rocky surfaces as if it had a will of its own.
The vampires hung back, staying clear of the deadly reaching flames. Ari shrugged off her fascination and sprinted after Sheila. The flames followed, slithering across the walls and the top of the cavern.
“What the hell is that?” Mike said.
Ari’s sentiments exactly. But she’d worry about it later. Her priority was Sheila and making sure she didn’t escape.
But Sheila wasn’t going anywhere. She’d boxed herself in. The side chamber, though large, went nowhere. Ari stepped into the entrance, blocking the way. Sheila fired a handgun from her sheltered position behind a large rocky protrusion, and Ari dropped to the floor, returning fire with her derringer.
The fire swept into the room, raced across the ceiling, fingers dipping down the wall and forming a circle on the floor, surrounding Sheila. Tails of flame flickered around the encircled wolf like dozens of tiny, malevolent lizards. A hundred eyes within the flames turned to watch Ari. Waiting. For what she wasn’t sure. Orders? Recognition?
Suddenly, she did recognize them. Mythical creatures come to life. The ancient salamanders. She felt a surge of pure power. The fire spirits were awaiting her order to devour the wolf. It was exhilarating and terrifying. Her heart pounded like a thousand drums. The magic filled Ari, threatening to burst through her skin.
When Sheila moved, drawing her attention, Ari laughed, a strangely hollow sound. She was nearly drunk on power. And just because she could do it, she summoned a lesser magic, a child’s magic, and took Sheila’s gun away.
Thought to deed, heart’s desire; with this thought, I shall acquire.
Bewilderment spread across the she-wolf’s face as she looked at her empty hand and watched the weapon reappear in Ari’s hand.
Sheila stood helpless before her. Ari smelled the sweaty stench of the she-wolf’s dawning fear—and liked it. “You should have left my friend alone.” Ari’s voice was soft, almost conversational.
“It is our way,” Sheila said. “An eye for an eye. It’s the code.”
“Yana was an innocent.”
“She was a casualty of war.”
Ari laughed. “What war? Sebastian’s? You were only a pawn in a vampire game.”
Small, furry tufts appeared on the backs of Sheila’s hands.
“You really think I’m going to let you shift?” Ari nodded toward the wolf’s hands and tossed the gun aside. She stared into the eyes of the fire, focused her magic, and ordered the spirits to leave.
There was an instant puff of steam and smoke. The cave darkened as the flames went out, leaving a fallen penlight as the only illumination. Sheila tried to run. Ari leaped forward, the dagger in her hand and tackled the wolf. Sheila fell with a hard thud on the rock floor, Ari on her back. Sheila reached back, snagged Ari’s hair, tearing at it until they rolled. But Ari came up on top, straddling the wolf’s chest. Breathing hard, she stared into the face of Yana’s killer, relishing