Blood Trail - By Tanya Huff Page 0,104

of the loft. He'd called the creature's reactions correctly right down the line. Except he hadn't thought about the loft or realized exactly what he'd be facing.

More terrified than he'd ever been in his life, he fought like a man possessed. He'd once seen a German shepherd kill a gopher by grabbing the back of its neck and crushing the spine. That wasn't going to happen to him. He felt claws tear through his thin shirt and into his skin, hot breath on his ear, and managed to twist around and shove one forearm between the beast's open jaws while his other hand groped frantically around on the floor for the fallen gun.

Storm tossed back his head, releasing the arm, and dove forward for the suddenly exposed throat.

Mark saw death approaching. Then he saw it pause.

Shit, man. I can't just rip out some guy's throat! What am I doing? Abruptly, the blood lust was gone.

With his legs up under the belly of the beast, Mark heaved.

Completely disoriented, Storm hit the ground with a heavy thud and scrambled to regain his feet. The floor moved under his left rear paw. Steel jaws closed.

The snap, the yelp of pain and fear combined, brought Mark slowly to his knees. He smiled as he saw the russet wolf struggling against the trap, twisting and snarling in a panicked effort to get free. His smile broadened as the struggles grew weaker and creature finally lay panting on the floor.

No! Please, no! He couldn't change. Not while his foot remained held in the trap. It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts. He could smell his own blood, his own terror. I can't breathe! It hurts.

Dimly, Storm knew the trap was the lesser danger. That the human approaching, teeth showing, was far, far more deadly. He whined and his front paws scrabbled against the ground but he couldn't seem to rise. His head suddenly become too heavy to lift.

"Got you now, you son of a bitch." The poison had been guaranteed. Mark was pleased to see he'd got his money's worth. Wincing, he reached over his shoulder and his hand came away red. Staying carefully out of range, just in case, he spat on the floor by the creature's face. "I hope it hurts like hell."

Maybe... if I howl... they'll hear me...

Then the convulsions started and it was too late.
Chapter Fifteen
"... I don't know! He's been acting so strangely lately!"

Stuart and Nadine exchanged glances over Rose's head. Nadine opened her mouth to speak but her mate's expression caused her to close it again. Now was not the time for explanations.

"Rose." Celluci came out of the office and walked quickly across the kitchen, until he could gaze directly into the girl's face. "This is important. Besides the family, Vicki, Mr. Fitzroy, and myself, who did Peter talk with today?"

He knows something, Henry thought. I should never have let him take that call.

Rose frowned. "Well, he talked to the mechanic at the garage, Dr. Dixon, Dr. Levin - the one who took over from Dr. Dixon, she was at his house for a while - um, Mrs. Von Thome, next door to Dr. Dixon, and somebody driving by up on the road, but I didn't see who."

"Did you see the car?"

"Yeah. It was black, mostly, with gold trim and fake gold spokes on the wheels." Her nose wrinkled. "A real poser's car." Then her expression changed again as she read Celluci's reaction. "That's the one you were waiting for, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" She stepped toward him, teeth bared. "Where's Peter? What's happened to my brother?"

"I think," Stuart said flatly, coming around from behind his niece, "you'd better tell us what you know."

Only Henry had some idea of the conflict Celluci was going through and he had no sympathy for it. The question of law versus justice could have only one answer. He watched the muscles on Celluci's back tense and heard his heartbeat quicken.

Everything in Celluci's training said he leave them with an ambiguous answer and take care of this himself. If werewolves expected to be treated like the rest of society, within the law, then they couldn't act outside the law. And if the only way he could do his duty was to fight his way out of this house... his hands curled into fists.

A low growl began to build in Stuart's throat.

And Rose's.

And Nadine's.

Henry stepped forward. He'd had enough.

Then Daniel began to whimper. He threw himself on his mother's legs and buried his face in her skirt.