“We’re fine,” I shot back. “Where are they? I don’t smell them.”
“They’re moving downwind of us,” Ben said. We stood back-to-back, our natural posture in the face of danger.
“Caleb, how many are there? How many did he see?” Ned said, but Michael’s last moan turned into a growl of warning.
“He saw enough, likely,” Caleb said.
Ben looked at Ned. “Well, Churchill, have any ideas?”
“If I’m not mistaken, they’re hoping to corner us, attack us all at once. Bloody and decisive.”
“There’s a reason I’m the alpha of this territory. They’re not going to win this,” Caleb said. “Michael, call them.”
The wolf had been pacing back and forth before his alpha, ranging forward and circling back. His ears were flat, his lips drawn back. Tipping his head back, he howled a series of long warning notes.
“That going to be a problem when people start calling the police about wolves running wild in Hyde Park?” Ben said.
“They’ll say it was kids messing around. It’s happened before.”
The open, sloping lawn meant we had a good view in every direction. The position might not have been as defensible as I liked. Behind walls wou
ld have been better.
“Here they come,” Ned said.
Four wolves ran, bodies rippling, strangely liquid, shadows flowing across the lawn. They approached at a wide angle, aiming to converge on us. At the same time, three more wolves, stretching legs to make huge strides, came obliquely to intercept them.
“Those three are mine!” Caleb called. They were all just shapes, creatures from a nightmare, multiplying.
“I should Change,” Ben said. “I can fight better if I Change.”
“Too late,” I said. “Stay with me.”
The two waves of animals met each other, bodies crashing, pale teeth bared and flashing in the dark. Their snarls cut like rasps on wood.
I looked behind us, because no way would a pack of wolves have launched an attack on just one front. Sure enough, two more rocketed from the back of the hill, in beautiful motion, without a wasted step. They aimed toward Ned.
The vampire waited calmly on the crest of the hill. He’d taken off his coat, laid it on the grass, and rolled up his sleeves. Ben and I ran to join him, reaching him as the wolves did. Three against two—not terrible odds. But this was going to hurt.
The two of us jumped at one of the wolves, tackling him, using our weight to pin him to the ground. The wolf was ready for us and writhed, twisting back on himself, flexing every muscle to wrench out of our grasp. He snapped; his teeth caught on my arm, and I hissed at the pain. I managed to grab his ear and twist; he yelped, then jerked out of my grip. Ben was trying to turn him onto his back, but the wolf kicked, digging claws into us, and tumbled away.
Ned had pinned the second wolf with a knee and wrenched back its head until bone snapped. The wolf fell limp. Our opponent jumped on him, and we scrambled to help. Moving so fast he blurred, Ned swung around and punched from the shoulder, striking the animal in the eyes, knocking him over. That gave us a chance to grab him. I leaned an elbow into the wolf’s belly, Ben dug into his rib cage, and Ned, once again, took hold of the head and twisted. This one collapsed, too.
They weren’t dead—they didn’t shift back to their human forms. They’d heal from the broken necks. But it would take a while.
“I thought you had this one,” Ned said, nudging the unconscious wolf with a toe.
“Yeah, well,” I muttered. We weren’t fighters, just stubborn.
The battle continued down the hill. Caleb was the only human figure among the swarm of battling wolves. More had arrived since we turned away. Growls rumbled; I could feel them through the ground, as well as the impacts of dense bodies slamming into each other. Teeth ripped at flesh; fur, spit, and blood flew. A couple of wolf bodies lay abandoned—one panted, bleeding from a gash in his side. The smell of it was thick, sour. Caleb crouched near this one, snarling, slashing with clawed hands to drive off enemies who came too close.
“What a mess,” Ned said with a sigh, marching down the hill and into the swarm. One of the wolves turned toward his approach, dark eyes gleaming, and let out a sharp bark. A couple of the others who were still standing looked up, and they all ran at the vampire, ignoring the attackers slashing at their heels.
This wasn’t a general attack; it was a suicide mission aimed at Ned. Not that he seemed concerned. When the lead wolf jumped at him, he sidestepped in a blur and punched the animal in the gut. Yelping, the wolf toppled. Ned kicked him for good measure.
I was about to run and help—or at least try to help—when Ben gripped my arm.
“We’re missing something,” he said.