Master of Desire (Merlin's Legacy #6) - Angela Knight Page 0,25

Tim reeled backward into her. Helena caught him automatically, bracing his body with hers as she kept pulling the trigger until the Glock produced only a dry click click click.

Bullet holes stitched the monster’s chest, but it ignored the wounds, vaulting the chest-high counter. Helen backed away, struggling to support her partner’s sagging weight with her left arm around his torso. Heavy, so fucking heavy -- Judy had been on him to lose weight…

The monster grabbed the barrel of Helena’s Glock, wrenching it out of her hand, sending it flying to clatter off the nearest wall. “You fucking stupid bitch!” the monster roared, voice deep and inhuman. “I’m going to eat your cunt ass!”

“Get away from me!” Helena screamed as the werewolf loomed over her. One of her arms was still wrapped around Tim -- she couldn’t let him go, he was her partner. Tim’s knees went lax and he slid out of her arms as she clutched for him. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening! She started to turn, run, get help, but clawed fingers clamped on her shoulder, snatched her off her feet, jerking her around. Her shoulder joint howled in agony, and Helena screamed, kicking at the monster with both feet, wishing she were wearing heels, heels would at least be something…

The monster slammed Helena’s head into the ceiling so hard, light exploded behind her eyes. A hot blowtorch blast of pain ripped into her abdomen. Eyes snapping open, she looked down to see the werewolf had buried its fangs in her stomach. The massive head jerked back, dragging something red away. Intestines? Are those my intestines? Agony detonated in her belly. Helena shrieked, high, terrified, raining frantic punches on his massive skull. She might as well have been hitting him with feathers. He sure as hell didn’t notice.

The room tilted, spun. Something slammed into her back as the wolf crashed down on top of her, ripping into her chest. Frantic, Helena went for its orange eyes as a voice in her head shrieked, I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead! It’s eating me! Light flashed somewhere in the room. The monster lifted its bloody muzzle, snarling, ignoring her weak hands scrabbling desperately for its eyes. Something bright swung…

The wolf’s head just… fell off and rolled across the room. Blood fountained from the stump of its neck as it collapsed on top of her. Helena screamed, the sound thin, more wheeze than anything else. Dying… I’m dying…

The monster’s weight was gone, heaving off her. It hit the wall with a wet thump. “Oh, my child,” a resonant female voice said. A white woman stared down at her in worry. Muscular, dressed in some kind of green leather costume, she looked like she could play for the WNBA. Her hair was long and green, braids swinging on either side of her beautiful face, like she was cosplaying Lord of The Rings. She even had the pointed ears.

The Elf sank gracefully to one knee, ignoring the blood spreading around Helena’s body and the decapitated werewolf. She shook her head and sighed. “I wish I’d gotten that vision sixty seconds sooner.”

“Vision?” Helena muttered, staring up at her. “The fuck… happening? Tim? Where’s Tim?” She struggled to lift her head. The pain almost made her scream. “Is he… is he okay?”

The woman’s mouth tightened. “That’s why I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“Help him…” She tried to rise, only to collapse as agony detonated like an IED in her guts. Tears filled Helena’s eyes and began to roll down her face. She didn’t quite manage to bite back the scream. “911,” she gasped. “Call 911…”

“Shhhh.” The woman rested a cool, long-fingered hand on Helena’s forehead. “Here. Perhaps this will help.” The pain dulled, chilled, became bearable. Helena gasped in relief and wonder -- How did she do that?

“Now, let’s do something about the rest.” The Elf extended a hand, held it just over Helena’s mangled, bloody abdomen.

Light flared, so dazzling she had to look away, blinking tears. The cold ache of the injury disappeared, and Helena lifted her head. Dared to look. Her stomach was whole again. “What?” she breathed. “What happened? How… I don’t…” Had she imagined it? Must have. There’s no such thing as werewolves. Or Elves or magic. “Call 911.” That’s the next thing to do. Call it in.

The woman shook her head and lifted her voice. It seemed to echo oddly in the dirty garage. “My Hunter Prince! I’m in need of you. Come to me.”

Helena grabbed the woman’s wrist.