Master of Desire (Merlin's Legacy #6) - Angela Knight Page 0,3
dropped the bubble and she struck like a snake. As she whipped one hand around to grab the wolf’s muzzle and jerk his head back, the bubble snapped up around them again. She sliced her kukri across the werewolf’s throat before he could do more than flail. The bubble contained the gush of blood as she stepped back, dragging him down to the floor by the muzzle. But it’s hard to kill the Direkind, and he’d shift and heal given half a chance. Before the wolf could do more than glow, she lifted Liam and chopped the kukri down. The weapon had been designed for hacking a path through Indian jungle, and it took the wolf’s head off in one clean stroke.
More blood bounced off the bubble’s interior. Helena grimaced as it soaked her, though she’d gotten used to a certain amount of gore over the past few years… A lot of it had been her own.
Dropping the head, she rose and stepped over to the balcony railing, dreading what she’d see. She’d been trying to ignore the gritted screams. Ordinarily the neighbors would have called the cops, but given Conal’s thirty-acre estate, nobody was close enough to hear. Looking down, she flinched. “Oh, Christ.”
The great room was a mess of broken furniture, blood and chaos. Conal sat directly below her, chained to a chair. One of the werewolves was using claws on his bare, broad chest. Horror-widened eyes stared at the ceiling as he arched in agony, bloody face contorted, the cords of his muscled throat stark as he fought not to scream.
Fangs, digging blazing furrows into her belly…
Helena forced her gaze away from Conal to count his captors. Nine wolves, no guns. Not surprising, since ordinary bullets didn’t do much to the Direkind. They could heal damn near any injury just by shifting, so you had to destroy their heads or hearts to take them out. It was tough to hit targets like that with a seven-foot monster jumping down your throat. She and Tim sure hadn’t been able to manage it.
Seven wolves stood around the room watching. An eighth held a cell phone pointed at Conal and his torturer, apparently shooting video.
Helena peered down in disbelief. “Are they Livestreaming this? Like those Warlock’s Wrath psychos?” The splinter group of werewolf terrorists had videoed themselves murdering an actor the week before. They’d broken into Elizabeth Reeves’s house, shifted on camera and torn the poor woman apart.
Which was a hell of a way for humanity to discover that, yes, Virginia, there really were werewolves. Especially since most Direkind were decent people just trying to live their lives. They did not need Wrathers making them all look like monsters from a horror flick.
“Idiots,” Liam murmured. “Let’s sacrifice the whole lot to Darwin.”
Conal screamed again, and Helena’s lips pulled off her fangs. “Let’s.” Magic burst in her hand as he transformed into the mutant shotgun again. Normally, shooting a werewolf with any kind of gun wouldn’t do much more than piss them off. Liam was another matter. True, his usual magical bullets would do no more damage than lead, but a death deity always had options.
Helena trained the shotgun on her target. As Liam dropped his stealth spell, she fired. The blast slapped her sensitive ears as the gun jolted between her hands. The projectile slammed into the top of the torturer’s skull and detonated, obliterating his head in a rain of crimson. Direkind might be immune to magic, but nobody was immune to explosives.
As the startled shouts began, Helena coolly turned the gun on the idiot with the cell phone, who gaped up at her in shock. BOOM! Another shower of blood and bone fragments. Roaring, one of the seven remaining werewolves charged across the room toward Conal. Helena vaulted over the railing to land between the two and blasted him right between his open jaws. BOOM!
Blood pattered as the corpse hit the ground and skidded.
“Bitch!” Something slammed into her side so hard, Liam flew right out of her hands. She hit the floor with a gray werewolf astride her, snarling and snapping. From the corner of one eye, she watched the shotgun slide across the floor. Got to get that gun! Liam was helpless otherwise -- and she wasn’t much better.
Claws flashed toward her face. She blocked, and punched the werewolf in the muzzle. He lunged for her face, but she slammed a knee into his gut, grabbed his hairy gray shoulders and rolled, kicking him off her.
“Helena!” Liam