Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,176

pulled himself back up and raised his gun again.

I looked back at Gregory and the wolves. The bullets that should have killed them fell uselessly to the ground in front of him.

“Carter,” Will called. I looked up, and he tossed a small bag down at me. I caught it and, without stopping, spun around, the palm of my hand burning as I hurled the bag toward the wolves.

It exploded upon impact. The contents rained down upon them.

At first nothing happened.

Gregory said, “Is that all you’ve—”

The wolves began to scream. He was startled as he took a step back. The wolves pawed furiously at their faces, drawing blood in their effort to rid themselves of the silver powder. It didn’t hit all of them, but the ones it did hit were blinded, snapping at nothing as their mouths started to froth bloody foam. The ones that had gotten the biggest dose fell to the ground, convulsing. One vomited a black mess, its eyes rolling back in its head.

Hillary raised her gun, pointing it directly at Gregory, who was distracted by the wolves dying around him. “Shouldn’t have come here,” she muttered.

Her finger tightened around the trigger.

She never got the shot.

“Get down!” Will screamed at her. He reached up, grabbed the front of her coat, and pulled her flat, the rifle falling from her hands.

The air shifted.

A terrible tremble rolled through my body.

The stars and crescent moon above were blotted out as if a great darkness had descended.

The ground shook beneath my feet as a beast landed on the street with a furious crash. He hit the sidewalk, and the silver powder began to burn his paws, thin tendrils of smoke rising up around them.

He paid it no attention.

His one red eye stared balefully at me as he rose to his back legs, the hair covering him swaying in the cold wind. He was almost as tall as the building behind him, and Grant raised his gun, aiming for Livingston’s head. He fired. I heard the bullet hit.

Livingstone grunted, turning his head toward Grant.

“Oh shit,” Grant breathed.

Livingstone roared at him. Grant took a stumbling step back toward the other side of the roof.

“Here!” I shouted. “We’re right here!”

Livingstone ignored me. He lunged toward the garage, smashing into the dark sign above it. The metal shrieked as the pole snapped, falling down toward the roof. Grant turned and ran toward the other side, jumping off the edge of the roof just as Livingstone hit the building, the brickwork cracking. Livingstone crawled up the side of the garage, claws punching through stone. The skylights on the roof shattered as he reached the top, glass raining down inside.

Livingstone pulled himself to his full height. He tilted his head back and howled.

It echoed throughout Green Creek. I covered my ears as Gavin whined next to me, curling himself around me, his head against my chest, tail wrapped around my legs.

By the time the howl faded away, Livingstone was looking down at the two of us.

“You,” he growled, his one eye flashing red, and even I felt it, the pull of the Alpha. It was as if claws were raking against my head and chest, the bonds of my pack writhing.

Gavin pulled away, moving until he stood in front of me. He crowded against me, pushing me away from his father. He was growling lowly, and I felt his anger, his fear. But he wasn’t scared of his father. He wasn’t scared for himself.

He was terrified for me.

I put my hand against his back, digging my fingers in, his hair fluttering against my skin.

“Take,” Livingstone snarled. “You take. From me. No more.”

I looked to my right.

Gregory had recovered. The wolves that hadn’t been hit by the silver gathered around him.

I looked left.

Wolves walked slowly down the street, eyes orange and trained on us.

And Livingstone said, “Kill them. Kill them all.”

Gregory ran toward us, surrounded by wolves.

The wolves at the other end of the street hurtled forward.

Livingstone raised his claws high above his head, his misshapen hands curling into fists. He brought them down onto the roof. The building shook, mortar raining down. He did it again and again, and the moment before the garage roof gave way, he jumped. He landed on the street as Gordo’s collapsed behind him with a crash, smoke and dust billowing up toward the stars.

Gavin jerked his head side to side.

There was nowhere to run.

Livingstone took a step toward us.

He stopped when a wolf jumped onto his back, claws and fangs tearing