- the easier to burn them, my dear - and a low, furious growl rumbled from behind me.
I spun around, bringing the gun up at the same time. I never set my gun down. Never. Stuff like this had happened to me before. What had not happened was the click that signified empty when I pulled the trigger.
The wolf, a russet monster with big brown eyes, grinned. He'd flanked me. Bastard.
"Smarter than your pals, hey?"
His lip lifted, turning the grin into a snarl. I shifted, bending my arms and pulling the gun back like a Louisville Slugger.
"Play ball."
He charged. I swung. The gun caught him in the head, but not hard enough. He hit me in the chest and followed me to the ground.
Edward had taught me a million things. The first, and by far the most useful at this moment, was how to grab a werewolf and keep him from eating your face.
I got one hand on the wolf's windpipe, the other around his muzzle, and held on. So far, so good. But how long could I hold him off?
Paws flailed, claws digging for purchase. I didn't worry about getting scratched. Lycanthropy is a virus of sorts. Like rabies, it's passed through the saliva. So a scratch wouldn't make me furry, but it would hurt.
However, if those teeth so much as pricked my skin, I'd be eating my associates raw within a day.
I took a deep breath and tried to shove the werewolf away. I got nowhere. The animal was stronger than me. I was doomed.
A rustle, a snarl, then another furry body hurtled through the night. I tensed, expecting a second attack.
Instead, the newcomer hit the wolf straddling my chest broadside, and they tumbled end over end away from me in a flurry of teeth, claws, and tails.
I didn't waste any time scrambling to my feet, retrieving my gun, and loading it as the huge red wolf and the smaller brown one fought.
I'd never seen wolves fight, except on TV. Never seen werewolves fight at all. I was glad I'd missed it.
The combination of animal body and human ruthlessness was horrific to behold.
They slashed and tore; blood dampened the ground; fur literally flew off them. I should have shot them both or at least run away. Instead, I could only stare, both repelled and fascinated by the savagery.
The russet wolf was bigger, broader, stronger. But the brown one was pissed. He snarled the entire time, as if teasing the larger wolf, egging him on to more daring feats. They were both covered in blood - their own and each other's - when the smaller wolf broke away, limping.
A real wolf would have let him go. The red werewolf charged. The other waited, waited, ducked as if giving in, then reached up and tore out the big bully's throat in one vicious yank. I had to admire his technique.
The injured animal took a few steps, as if to run away, hide, maybe heal, but it was too late. He crumpled, dead before he hit the ground. The brown wolf walked over to his prize, not a hitch in his step.
"Clever boy," I murmured.
He glanced up and cocked his head. Lifting my gun, I aimed right between his eyes. I couldn't see their color. The night was too dark, the moon too dim, the forest too thick. But they were human eyes. That much I could tell. That much was all I needed.
I thought of Jimmy, my sister, brother, parents. I remembered other people the werewolves had killed, other places they had decimated. The hatred that lived inside of me - every day, every night - flared, and my finger tightened.
The animal continued to stare at me. He didn't try to run. I could swear he was begging me to do it. So I hesitated, thinking of what Cadotte had said.
What if killing them is what they want?
"Hell."
If the werewolves wanted it, I knew I didn't.
I lowered my gun. The wolf snarled. His hackles lifted. Something was very wrong here.
Werewolves craved human blood. They did not kill one another. So what was the matter with this one?
Could he be something other than a werewolf? I'd seen a lot as a Jager-Sucher. Edward had seen even more. Every day, in amazing ways, new monsters came to life - one of the reasons Edward hunted less and stayed in the office more. The business he had started after World War Two kept growing and growing.