stone wall as Jones repeated the action. It was done.
“Most excellent,” said Jones.
Poppy glared at him, refusing to move closer to Jones’s outstretched hand. “Why me?” she asked. “You owe me that much.”
“Now that I have you, it is an easy request to make.” Jones grinned then, a self-satisfied gesture that had Win aching to smash his face. “My kind does not fear fire, nor earth, but ice?” He chuckled low and malevolently. “Oh how my enemies fear that. With you at my side, there is no one I cannot defeat.”
Cool, calculating eyes of deep brown studied Jones. “And if I decide to turn my powers against you?”
A short laugh punctuated the air. “You are bound to me now, daughter. To do as I say.” Grinning with glee, Jones held out a hand once more. “Now, my dear, if you’d come with me.”
It was Poppy’s turn to grin. “I do believe you have been tricked.”
It took a moment for Jones to comprehend that the voice coming from Poppy’s mouth was that of a man. Jones’s white glare went to Win, his lips curling back in a feral grimace before he slowly turned back to Poppy.
The air about her stirred, and then Jack Talent stood smiling before them. “Isn’t that correct, Inspector?”
“I believe so, Mr. Talent.” Win spoke lightly, but the battle had only just begun.
Jones’s thin body swelled and grew. “Then I shall take you to hell with me, Jack Talent.”
Talent peered up at him. “Already been, thanks. Besides, you might have my blood but the name on the contract says Poppy Ellis Lane.”
“In short,”—Win gave Jones a pleasant smile—“the contract has been forged, and thus is null and void. This one, however,”—he held up the contract absolving Jones from touching him or his child—“is quite valid.”
Sharp teeth flashed before a roar of utter outrage tore from Jones’s lips. It shook the night and rattled his bones. Then Jones broke free of his mortal body in a burst of fire and smoke, knocking Win and Talent back. Talent hit the pavement hard, his head bouncing against it. He did not get back up. Smoke swirled then coalesced into the form of something that froze Win with terror. It rose to full height, all seven feet of it, as it snarled at them.
Werewolf. Win’s mind screamed the word as he scrambled back, his body instantly in full-flight mode. It was an illusion. An illusion. The were’s roar and his hot, fetid breath had Win’s body thinking otherwise. Bile rushed up his throat. Win held it down and whipped out the short swords he had strapped beneath the back of his coat. Clutching them in his hands, he rose to face his nightmare.
The were pounced. Win leapt to the side, his sword slashing down as he moved. It met with bone, and blood sprayed his face. Hot, wet. Get away. Run away! He ignored the command. The were howled in pain and rage. Win hadn’t time to move again before the thing lashed out, catching him on the chest. Win flew back several feet, smashing into a lamppost. Stars sparkled before his eyes and he tasted blood.
Move!
Win rolled, knife-sharp claws raking the cobbles where he’d lain. Again, Win struck, cutting and swiping with his swords. Teeth snapped before his face, claws gouged his flesh. Oh, how he remembered. His body shook, threatening to break down against his will. Grunting, he kicked the beast in the stomach, flinging it away with all his strength.
The were tumbled back then righted with blinding speed. “A fighter now, are you?” Jones’s voice was garbled under the guise of the were.
Sword hilts held tight in his sweating hands, Win crouched low and ready. “Damn right. Now fight me in your true form.” The scarab lay heavy and waiting within his trouser pocket. He only needed the chance to use it. “Or are you afraid, Apep?”
“You dare?” Jones snarled. “You dare speak my sacred name!”
But even as he shouted, the were form faltered, becoming grey and wavering until Jones once more stood before him. No longer thin, but bulky with muscle and skin of deep crimson.
Win gripped his weapons. “We are children of Isis, no longer under your spell.”
Jones’s eyes went to Poppy’s charm dangling about Win’s neck, exposed now that his shirt was in tatters. “You think Isis will protect you? Stupid Winston Lane.”
He flew at Win, a blur of red skin and flashing eyes. The impact jolted through Win and took his breath. Fists pummeled his