“Kitty, get back!”
I kicked its ribs, and its hold broke. I twisted to slip from under its weight, obeying the voice instantly because I trusted it, because it belonged to a man who’d watched my back before. Cormac. As fast as I could, I rolled away from the black wolf.
In the same moment, a shot echoed, then another, and another. They were close, thunder in my ears, rattling my brain.
The wolf cried out—a human scream. Too human, a woman in pain.
The creature lay still before me. I swore I could see motes of dust settling around us, where we’d been fighting.
I couldn’t think at all. I felt like I’d been locked in darkness and the prison door just blew open, and now my body floated through the opening. Now, Wolf wanted to run. On my knees, I bent over double, clutching my stomach, trying to pull my body back into myself. Trying to make myself human again. Skin, not fur. I wanted hands and fingers, not paws and claws. Keep it together, keep the line between us drawn. Please, please…
My Wolf crept back to her lair, growling low the whole time, not believing the danger was over, not believing I could take care of us. Please…
I took a deep breath, and my body stopped slipping. I flexed my hands, which were hands again.
“Stay back. Give her space. She might still shift.” Cormac was speaking.
I kept my eyes closed, stayed crouched over for another moment, taking advantage of the moment of space and silence he made for me.
I want you to take care of me, I wanted to say to him. I wish you were a wolf and could be my alpha.
“I’m okay,” I said, though my voice was weak and uncertain. I looked up. Cormac stood just a few feet away, looking the worse for wear, a few days’ worth of beard covering his jaw. He held a rifle in both hands, ready to fire again if he had to. Briefly, his gaze shifted from the body of the monster to me. His look was searching, asking. Are you all right? I tried to pour gratitude back to him. Yes,
because of you. I smiled. “You came back.”
“I got your messages.”
“Was this the second wolf you’d been tracking?”
“Yeah.”
Ben stood beside me, close enough to touch, but he held back, his body fairly quivering with anxiety. He seemed to need reassurance as much as I did. I reached for him, and he grabbed my hand and knelt besid
e me.
“You okay?” he said.
“I’ll heal.” My whole body ached, pain stabbing along every limb. I wouldn’t know how badly the wolf had torn me up until I got into some light and looked.
“The wolf,” Cormac said. “It’s not changing back.”
When a werewolf died in its wolf form, the body shifted back to human—returned to its original state. Cormac had put at least three bullets in it, and I knew he used silver. The thing lay in a widening pool of blood. It had to be dead. It even looked dead, a pile of dull fur rather than a glowing, rippling creature.
But it wasn’t changing back. It had never smelled like a werewolf.
I crept forward. Wrong, this was all wrong, and my flesh crawled. I wanted to go inside and lock the door. But I had to know.
Cormac said, “Kitty, don’t—”
I touched its neck. It felt cold and strangely pliant under my touch. Its chest was shattered, multiple flowering wounds on its back bleeding into one another. Cormac’s bullets had found their marks. I ran my hand down its flank.
Fur. It was only fur.
I lifted back the head, and the fur and skin came off. Lifted right off, like it was a cloak. I pulled it all the way back and moved it aside. It was a tanned wolf hide, that was all.
A young woman lay before me, naked, sprawled on her side, exit wounds ripped in her chest. Her sleek black hair was long, tangled around her, matted with blood. Despite being marred by blood and destroyed flesh, her body seemed young, lean, and powerful.
“What the hell,” Ben murmured, on behalf of us all, it seemed.