her. Rafe standing beside her on the porch. Target practice. The safety.
She remembered to flick it off at the same instant that the wolf finally powered its way up the ladder and into the attic. Trusting her instincts, she aimed and fired at the dim shape that advanced upon her. The first shot was a hit, judging from the high-pitched yelp that coincided with the ear-shattering crack of the revolver discharging in such an enclosed space. Yet it barely slowed the wolf down. The beast slammed into her, all muscle and teeth and claws, knocking her backward so that she landed awkwardly with a joist digging into her spine. Pain radiated up her arms, but she forced herself to raise the revolver anyway and deliver a second shot directly between the malevolent eyes that stared down upon her.
She knew it was a kill shot because the wolf transformed into a man right on top of her. He was heavy and naked, and being trapped beneath his bulk atop an uncomfortable, narrow piece of wood threatened to send her into total panic. It was only the knowledge that there was at least one more wolf downstairs, possibly more, that allowed her the presence of mind to crawl out from beneath the dead werewolf. Turning where she sat, she aimed at the hatch and waited for more.
No one came.
She could hear something pacing in the room below, its breath coming in hot, heavy snorts, but for whatever reason, it didn’t seem able to pursue her as the other wolf had. Or maybe that’s just what it wanted her to think. Without taking her eyes away from the hatch opening, Katie planted her free hand behind her and tested her ability to stand. Her legs were shaking so badly she didn’t trust them to carry her. Lowering herself to the ground once again, Katie exhaled slowly and battled the tears that threatened to fall.
Shilah wasn’t barking anymore. He wasn’t even whining. He’s probably dead. Katie choked back a sob at the stark thought. And if he is, it’s my fault.
But there was a chance he was still alive, right? Until she saw his body with her own eyes, she had to believe he was alive. And until she knew otherwise, she had to do everything she could to help him. She may have failed him once tonight, but she wouldn’t do it again.
Steeling her nerve, Katie took a deep breath and got to her feet. She kept her gun trained on the hatch opening, ready to pull the trigger at the first sign of movement. Though she could still hear the battle raging outside, her focus narrowed to nothing but getting to Shilah. She had to trust that Rafe could hold his own—at least until she dealt with the trouble that she had caused.
She approached the hatch with an overabundance of caution, creeping centimeter by centimeter through the dark. When she finally got close enough to the opening to peek downstairs, she found the ladder lying on its side and a frustrated-looking wolf staring up at her. She noted the blood on the wolf’s fur as she put a bullet into its skull. It crumpled to the ground, a limp, dead man that she didn’t recognize. All too aware that her gunshots had to be catching the attention of every wolf within a half mile radius, she waited silently for another one to appear. But nothing stirred downstairs.
Not until she heard a pitiful cry. Shilah. Alive.
All thoughts of caution flew out the window. She lowered herself to the attic floor and stuck her head through the hatch opening, scanning the den for any sign of intruders. The room was trashed—couch cushions torn open, the coffee table overturned—but everything was eerily still. Another weak cry pulled her attention toward the kitchen, where she thought she caught the barest hint of movement out of the corner of her eye.
She looked down at the floor of the den, a good eight feet below where she crouched. If she hung on to the edge of the hatch and dropped straight down, she would only fall a few feet but would almost certainly land on either the leg of the fallen ladder, her shotgun, or the body of the dead wolf. She could easily twist her ankle with this maneuver, and that was assuming she wasn’t going to be ambushed by a hidden enemy while she hung there unarmed.
The memory of Shilah’s cries spurred her on. She fumbled