jumped to my feet, Otto threw a punch at my face.
I blocked with my free arm, angling it to deflect a blow that came in like a battering ram. At the same time, I lunged in with Chopper, slashing at the shifter’s bare chest.
Otto leaped back with the speed of a cat, and my blade sliced through air. It gave me time to back farther into the room, put a wall at my back, and give myself more room to swing. Otto shifted form, turning into a huge black panther, muscles rippling under his sleek flesh.
As snarls and growls filled the hallway, Sindari and Kurt biting and clawing at each other, we faced off. Otto sprang, a paw slashing for my eyes.
Aware of the couch to one side, I glided to the other. I feinted, as if I meant to cut off his paw, then shifted the blade mid-swing and changed targets. As he was busy jerking his paw out of the way, Chopper sliced upward toward his belly and vulnerable internal organs. Otto tried to twist in the air as he landed, raking his back claws at me.
My sword gave me the reach to avoid them while cutting into fur and flesh. It wasn’t a deep wound, and Otto didn’t cry out. As soon as he landed, he whirled to face me again. But shifters were always fast. I wasn’t fazed. It would be a battle of attrition; it often was.
This time, Otto ran straight toward me instead of springing into the air. White fangs dripped saliva, and his intent was clear: he meant to ram me against the TV stand and sink his teeth into my neck.
I didn’t dodge. With speed and strength I thanked the father I’d never met for, I slammed a straight kick into his chest as I thrust with Chopper, aiming the point into the panther’s open maw.
The ball of my foot struck with the blade, driving Otto backward as I gouged the side of his face—he whipped his head aside before the blade could sink into his throat. Bleeding, he jerked away and backed up. Fury glowed in his yellow eyes, and he sank low, looking like he would spring again.
But as he met my gaze, he threw a mental attack at me, one I hadn’t expected from a shifter. They were known more for brute force and magical regenerative powers than psionic finesse.
Power raked at my mind, evoking pain as if he were using physical claws on my brain. An image forced itself into my thoughts, one of me dropping to my hands and knees and letting the brothers have their way with me.
Though startling, it was a clumsy attack. I walled off my mind, pushing the pain and the crude images away. Even without Chopper and its assistance with repelling mental threats, I could have fought this idiot off.
He leaped for me again, coming straight in. Did he expect me to be so stunned by his mental attack that I wouldn’t be ready?
I had plenty of time to spring to the side and swing Chopper at his neck.
More coming, Val, Sindari warned from the hallway.
The announcement startled me, and my blade sliced into Otto’s shoulder instead of his neck. It struck bone and glanced off.
Otto crashed into the TV. I would have laughed when it hit the wall, then fell forward, glass shattering all over him, but I abruptly grew aware of more magical auras in the area. Four. No, six. Allies to the brothers?
A couple of them were coming from the direction of the river, but others were running down the street from the entrance of the neighborhood. And they were coming fast. Even as I finished counting to six, more magical beings surged into range of my senses. Ten? They were all similar to Otto and Kurt, shifters of one kind or another.
I sensed this one calling them, but I could not stop him in time, Sindari added, pausing to snap his jaws as Kurt, bleeding from a dozen wounds, charged at him to continue their fight. They’re converging on the front yard. You better go out the back. I’ll keep these two distracted so you can get away.
Sindari was fighting as he communicated with me, so I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to distract him.
Besides, there was nothing to argue about. We could have taken down the brothers but not the brothers plus ten more shifters.
Glass tinkled as Otto pushed himself up, the TV frame falling to one