and down my arms. A string of curses ran through my head as I struggled to turn and see what was holding me.
I was rolled over, and a wave of dizziness hit, along with a healthy dose of pure fear. The werewolf I had just unloaded into crawled over me. Blood still poured from his wounds, but I could see them healing—just as fast as Raphael.
“Good try,” he growled, this time grabbing my neck with both hands. I still had my sword, but the angle was awkward. As he choked me out, this time both satisfied and pissed off, I started cutting into him. He was bleeding so much, but he didn’t let go.
I was nearly gone when a distant, muffled howl distracted him. He released just a little, enough for me to grab one of his hands and pull it to my mouth, sinking my fangs deep into him—one bite, one pump of venom.
Be enough. Please, for the love of the gods, be enough.
He yanked away, nearly taking my fangs out of my head. He looked at the hand as he moved away, his eyes growing wider and wider. I was too beaten up to move for that drawn-out minute, so I watched.
I watched with my own sick satisfaction as blood began to well up in his tear ducts and run out like tears. I watched as he shook his head, and blood splattered out of his ears. I watched as he stood, staggering. I knew then the venom was already starting to its job. As long as my venom stayed in his system, healing was going to be very, very hard.
“Brother,” he croaked, blood coming out of his mouth. He vomited, and there was more of it. “B-b-b…” He never said it a second time as he dropped, his eyes wide. This time, I knew not to believe he was dead, but he was in hell. His body would fight my venom until one of them gave out, and that could be a long time.
I stood and groaned as the door to the roof burst open. I wasn’t surprised to see Wesley was now on the scene. He sniffed the air, and I saw as he turned to me.
“Hey, Wesley,” I croaked. “Did you really have to track me here? Right now?”
I was obviously not in the right mind, having an out-of-body experience. I knew I needed to run, find another gun, or pull out my silver dagger. Any of it would have worked, but as I stood there, swaying in the winds of Levi’s storm, I was just tired, and nothing I said to myself got my feet to agree to action.
He walked slowly to me, growling—this poor wolf. I didn’t want to kill him like the twins. He was just a guy under a really bad spell, and the unfairness of it broke my heart.
I kill bad guys, not…
Wesley was right in front of me, raising a large hand. It all felt so slow.
“Get down!” a sharp order broke through.
Recognizing the voice, I turned. Seeing Nakul, I stepped closer to him and gasped, but the gasp could have been from pain as Wesley’s claws raked across my back, taking me down to the ground again.
The older naga rushed forward, picking up my sword as he went.
“I’ll hold him off while you kill the witch.” Those words didn’t sink in for a second. “Kaliya, go kill the witch,” he hissed. “Go!”
Levi. I pushed myself up, a renewed sense of purpose. A roar of victory sounded off in the background, and a mangled head rolled across the rooftop in front of me. It wasn’t human enough to be Raphael. I turned for only a second to see Raphael standing over a headless body, his face so covered in black veins, there was very little of his warm, tan skin. His Latino heritage was unrecognizable. His hair seemed longer, and he was hulking. He roared again, and I saw the sharp, animalistic teeth in his mouth.
There was a monster inside him. He still wasn’t letting it all the way out, but it was there.
“Help Nakul hold Wesley!” I called out, not slowing and putting aside my observation. Levi was on the far end of the rooftop, his focus on the storm. I needed to finish this, so I could make sure Wesley was secure, and those other two werewolves didn’t find ways to put themselves back together.
Levi saw me coming before I wanted, thanks to the shouting, but I