That made the shifter brave. “Bitch,” he said, and would have crawled to his feet had Gabriel not put a boot in his balls. His face turned green; he turned to his side, moaning.
“His name’s Kane,” Gabriel said, crouching in front of him. “What the fuck have you done, Kane?” Every word was bitten off like a bitter pill.
“They’re killing us.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows lifted. “Caleb Franklin wasn’t killed by this House.”
“Killer was a Rogue, paid by Cadogan.” Kane squeezed his eyes shut, probably as pain rolled through him. “Same Rogue did Kyle Farr tonight.”
“Farr’s dead?”
“Fucked up,” Kane said, opening eyes that had gone watery with pain. “Vampire fucked him up.”
“We paid no Rogue, or anyone else, to harm anyone,” Ethan said. And yet we knew a Rogue who’d murdered, and probably wouldn’t feel much reluctance about lying.
“What did the vampire look like?” Ethan asked.
Kane moved to sit up, huffing through his teeth. “You know what he looks like. He’s one of yours. He said so.”
“Kane,” Gabriel said. A request, an order.
“White. Dark hair. Lean. Muscles.” He moved a hand across his jaw. “And had a beard. Big, thick beard.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
FACTS OF WAR
Gabriel let CPD corral the shifters into a corner of the yard. They lay facedown, hands on their heads, while Catcher, my grandfather, the SWAT team members watched them. The SWAT men and women had weapons in hand, and they looked as though they were daring the shifters to move.
There’d been seventeen of them. They’d come to the House in the Humvee on the lawn, two more parked outside it. It had taken two vehicles to pull off the gate—proving that no system was foolproof.
was why shifters so often fought in their human forms. A shift into animal form would heal any injuries they’d suffered as humans, but the magic didn’t work in reverse.
“Maybe think before you attack next time,” I murmured. My store of sympathy was tapped out.
“Sentinel!” Juliet screamed, and I glanced back just in time to dodge the enormous fist aimed at my head. I hit the ground, rolled, came up again with my katana in front of me. It was the shifter who’d screamed and aimed the automatic weapon at the House.
“Thanks!” I yelled out to Juliet. She’d brought a handgun to this particular fight, fired neat shots into the shoulder of the first female shifter I’d seen tonight. They were the shifter version of unicorns—public sightings were rare, especially in battle.
I looked back to my enemy, who eyed me with loathing that seemed to radiate off him.
“You think you’re better than we are? You think you have the right?”
“Only in this particular instance,” I said as he punched again with his right fist. I dodged, but he grazed my sore shoulder, sending a shock of hot pain all the way to my toes. I went into a crouch, aimed an elbow into his stomach when he moved over me. The shifter grunted, stumbled back a few feet before regaining his footing.
He must not have expected much from me, because the fact that he hadn’t knocked me out seemed to infuriate him. He came at me again like a linebacker, hands out and ready to move me back across the line.
Both hands on the katana’s handle, I sliced diagonally, leaving a stripe of blood across both hands. He howled, fisted his hands so blood ran down his wrists, and aimed an uppercut at my jaw. I turned the blade to the side, whipped the steel against his flank, and when he was a step beyond me, kicked the back of his knee so he hit the ground.
He rolled to get up again, but I was faster. I put a boot on his chest and the katana’s point at the throbbing pulse in his neck.