Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,40

the chute!”

“Holy fucking shit, what is that?” Quickdraw panted as he ran along the fence to undo the gate that separated the holding pen from the alleyway to the chutes.

She slammed her head against the gate again, and the metal groaned and bent more. The latch was holding on by so little, but Dead was frozen in her glare. She paced to the back of the holding area and turned to charge the gate. It wouldn’t hold.

“Dead, move!” Cheyenne screamed from somewhere behind him.

“Shhhhit,” he cursed as he forced himself to get out of the way of the gate.

She stopped mid charge and spun, and as Dead scrambled up onto the fence to tempt her into the chutes, he saw why she’d stopped. Two Shots had jumped into the pen with her.

He almost didn’t make it out. Raven charged faster than a snake strike. Her massive horns didn’t seem to weigh her down at all, and she wasn’t built like other cows he’d seen. She had more muscle, more mass, and aggression seeped out of every pore. Hagan. That’s what had done this to her. She had that dark Hagan blood pumping through her veins.

Two Shots had to leap over the fence, no time to climb it. She hit it hard, and the metal made a gong sound that rattled Dead’s head and nearly shook him off the fence.

“Come on, Raven. Come on!” Dead shouted.

Quickdraw was whistling. He’d climbed into the alleyway, baiting her. She went for it, charged straight for him, but she had to turn her head so her long horns could fit, and it gave Quickdraw time to run. She followed him right into a chute.

“Get out of there!” Cheyenne screamed as Quickdraw scrambled up the chute fencing.

Raven barely missed his leg. When Dead slammed closed the back of the chute, she kicked it so hard, he went flying off the metal.

Quickdraw had a rope agitating her neck, as if she needed it. Raven was pinned in the small space. She let off another foghorn bellow. Dead and Two Shots barely got the flank rope on her without being mauled.

“Does she even need this?” Two Shots yelled.

“Fuck if I know. She’s the size of a dinosaur! Let’s just get her out of here. She don’t like being pinned.”

Quickdraw rushed to the arena, readied the rope on the gate to pull it open. “Tell me when!” he shouted, his face red, sweat trickling down his temple.

“Tighten it quick before she breaks this whole chute, man,” Two Shots murmured low.

Fumbling, Dead tightened it, careful to keep it higher up her belly.

“Pull it!” Dead yelled.

And when he did, time became different. It became slow. Two Shots was yelling, Cheyenne was running along the fence shouting orders, Quickdraw was pulling on that rope, and his sweet Raven owned her wild.

That monster cow shifter followed that opening gate with no hesitation. She leapt out of there and went to bucking so hard the arena dust made a cloud. He could feel the vibration of every powerful buck she did.

No one spoke. They just froze and watched as Raven caught air and kicked back. She was flying. Her horns had to be heavy, but they didn’t seem to have any effect on her bucking. She went for fifteen seconds, easy, and when she slowed, she trotted out to the middle of the arena, doing little bunny bucks of her back end. She didn’t like the rope, and he got it. That flank rope was designed to agitate.

“We gotta get it off her boys!” Dead called.

So he and Two Shots and Quickdraw hopped into the arena with the beast.

She stood still, looking from him to the others and back to him. The tattoos showed. God, the tattoos. They were a few shades darker than her short black fur, and when she turned, sweat glistening off her hide. He could just make out the lines. They weren’t the same shape as her human form. No, in this form, they looked like black lace across her flank.

The boys worked as a team. She charged Quickdraw first because he was the closest, so Two Shots ran in front of her face while Quickdraw ran. Dead swerved in and pulled the release on the flank strap, which fell to the earth.

Raven spun and charged Dead.

There wasn’t enough time to get away. Not enough time.

Two Shots and Quickdraw were yelling something, Cheyenne too, but he couldn’t make it out through the roar in his ears. He turned to run,