It took me another few breaths to rise. When I finally stumbled to my feet, it was Celia’s turn to save my ass. She shoved me back behind the fallen tree just as a funnel of green and red raged toward us, burning a path through the forest like the mother of all infernos.
Flames engulfed the longer branches of our cover, barbequing the air above our heads. Holy shit. We’d just missed getting burned to bacon. As the flames died down, we cautiously peered over the trunk, following the path seared by the fire.
Across the long stretch of burning embers, a woman with long pale hair and a black velvet dress stood holding a staff loosely against her side and smiling. Her smile faded when Celia stood and licked her chops.
I patted Celia’s furry side. “Okay, little pu**y. There’s your mouse.”
The witch gripped her staff and pointed it at Celia when she charged, chanting in frightened spurts, building her magic.
Streams of green and red shot from her staff as Celia bounded toward her. But my girl was too damn quick. Her tigress form jumped and swerved with lightning speed, avoiding the flames as if they were nothing more than twirling ribbons. She shifted when she was mere yards away, and appeared in a high leap. The witch lifted her staff and surrounded herself with a protection bubble, just barely missing getting pounced and clawed. She screamed when Celia slammed into her magical shield and cracked it with just one blow. The bubble splintered, obstructing the witch’s terrified face.
That eerie feeling returned as I watched, raising the hairs on my neck like flags. Once again a dense mist overtook the land. The temperature dropped . . . and the tormented ghosts rose from the ground. They gathered slowly around Celia and the witch, their numbers building—watching, waiting for Celia to break through. The way she pounded her massive claws against the protective shield, she’d soon reach her prey. Celia would make sure this Tribe tramp would never raise evil spirits again.
And I’d make sure to send the ass-wipes back to hell.
I fought my way to my feet, while agony continued to tear its way through my body like bubbling acid. I howled, both from the struggle to rise and to call the pack. Pricks or not, I needed them here.
From a very, very, very, long distance away, another wolf answered my call.
For shit’s sake. It’s going to take them forever to get here.
My head snapped up at the sound of Dan’s pained screams. Jesus. They’d started eating his soul. I hobbled toward his growing cries, my pain making me annoyingly slow. I swore, still unable to catch my breath. With a grunt and another few more creative swears, I forced my legs to move faster, biting through the pain and stumbling over every damn rock, log, and creeping vine.
I reached a clearing, staggering to a halt at the sight of a cluster of naked blue and brown women piled on top of each other, clawing, hissing, and fighting over what lay beneath them. Their heads jerked up as my growls built into a hateful roar.
They growled in challenge, their beauty gone, replaced by shriveled, sagging skin, and sunken faces that bared their thirst and hunger. One by one they slithered out of their pile, flashing their pointy teeth and wicked claws. I advanced, only fifty yards remained between me and them. I was going to kill them and then find Dan. They would pay for hurting him. . . .
I didn’t see Dan until the last of the Ciguapas lifted from his unmoving form. His head lay twisted in an odd angle and blood smeared the lapels of his polyester suit.
They’d killed him. They’d killed my best friend.
Something fired deep within me, a trigger of rage I’d always kept carefully in check. But there was no need to slap the safety on now. I buried the torturous pain of my mending and exploded with fury, changing into my wolf form and surrendering to a beast whose need for carnage knew no end.
They’d murdered my friend, my brother, my family, my pack, and now these f**kers were going to pay!
My claws dug into the frozen earth, kicking it behind me as I sped forward. The Ciguapas spread out. They refused to go to hell without a fight.
But they had no goddamn clue who they were fighting.
A long-forgotten scent from my past stopped my onslaught like a whip strangling my neck. My eyes widened as I ground to a halt. My body tumbled and rolled from the force of my sudden stop, lashing at and aggravating my injuries. But the pain was secondary to the rush of emotions I felt then. I scrambled to my feet, my throat tightening into a hard knot that threatened to choke me.
Shit.
Before me stood my human mother, her arms outstretched and her face breaking into that familiar look of love she’d always greeted me with.
I shook my giant head, trying to clear my vision. This isn’t happening. I blinked my eyes opened, convinced she’d vanished. But there she stood, smiling patiently. I inched forward, wanting and needing to believe it was her. My father had killed them both when he tried to turn her werewolf, I reminded myself. He’d failed, I insisted. They weren’t coming back.
And still there she was.