Touch of Evil - Cecy Robson Page 0,50

most of her face for her to finally release me.

I jostle away from her, the lack of air circulating through my blood making me loopy and robbing me of my speed. With all the grace of a toddler, I reach the surface, spitting out water and hacking up Una chunks.

My head whips in the direction of the Watering Hole when the weres I summoned race toward the dock. From the entrance to the labyrinth, the weres from the apartment complex hustle in beast form, their paws kicking sand behind them. To the west, more weres approach in a boat. They’re coming. All the packmates out on patrol are answering my call.

But I don’t need them.

I need Emme.

Relief warms the chill from the lake and I just about collapse when the fish gal lifts Emme from the water and up to a large dock. The tide must have dragged Emme farther down and away from where I aimed.

Mouse girl tries to reach for Emme with those tiny-ass paws, but it’s the vamp with the twisted head who places Emme safely on the dock.

My lungs are on fire and my body is trying to realign at least three busted bones. I’m tired and famished. But I keep paddling with my tongue lolling out, happy as wolf who caught his prey and anxious to be with my girl.

Shit.

My girl?

Here I go again.

The closer I draw to Emme, the colder she appears.

No. Not cold.

Emme is pissed.

She snaps a large branch from a nearby tree with her force and levitates it into the air.

“What the hell?” I ask.

The weres on the dock and fish girl frantically point, yelling all at once. I turn slowly as it occurs to me, no one is actually looking at me.

And I swear, it’s like the theme from Jaws starts playing.

Una’s head pops to the surface like a fin and she charges. She can barely see with that one eye dangling from her skull. But she sees enough.

And so does Emme.

Like an arrow meeting a bullseye, Emme nails Una in her large head with the branch. The sharp tip splits her head open. She wobbles back and forth and sinks.

As the last of her vanishes beneath the water, she loses her fight against Tahoe.

Una detonates. What remains are pieces, swallowed whole by the lake.

“Oh,” I say, turning back to Emme. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Rain trickles across the water, dimming the rising sun and rushing the moon away. I hurry to the dock. Someone throws a blanket over Emme, but it’s not enough. She needs to get out of those wet clothes and wash leftover Una bits off. She needs food and warmth.

Hell, she needs me.

The bear from the complex passes her the phone. “It’s the alpha, Aric Connor,” he tells her.

Emme grips the phone tight, taking a moment before speaking. I hurry forward, only for Houndstooth jacket and the Polo boys from the Watering Hole to shove their way forward.

“What the hell was that, man?” Orange Polo asks. “A wereoctopus?”

“No. It was something else,” I answer.

I scowl when the cougar from the complex adjusts the blanket covering Emme’s shoulders. She’s talking to Shayna. I recognize Shayna’s excited tone right away.

“Sure was something else,” Houndstooth agrees. He jerks his head in the direction of the fish and mouse. “Just like them.”

The cougar nods, his hardening gaze fixing on the younger weres. “When you talk to Bren Cooper, you call him alpha. Show some respect, dawg.”

The other weres nod in agreement, eyeing fish girl and the president of the mouse club with disgust. The witches didn’t cast Mirror under the laws and safety of their coven, and they’re not weres or humans our weres are obliged to protect. They’re abominations, results from the evil we guard against. If left on their own, the fish and mouse would be eviscerated by the pack.

“What do you want me to do with them, alpha?” the bear asks.

In other words, kill them now, or later?

“Don’t know,” I say. “Still waiting to hear.”

I take the beach towel he offers me and wipe down. The witches inch away from the weres and closer to Emme. She’s talking to Shayna now. I recognize the perk to her tone. A hiss from a werelynx warns the witches against getting too close to Emme.

“You promised to speak to Genevieve,” mouse girls calls to Emme. “You said if we helped you, you would help us.” She veers on me. “Emme was drowning. Farrah dove into the water and brought