A ghastly shriek split the air.
Donal turned to look across the lot.
Terrified of what she’d see, she followed his gaze—although she had to lean forward to see past a pair of legs standing between her and the sight.
The hellhound was down.
Thank the Gods.
A grizzly and panther circled the hellhound’s still figure. As Alec stood over it, the hellhound shimmered and trawsfurred into human form. Dead.
Tynan was bent over, hands on his thighs, gasping for air. When Alec slapped his shoulder and said something, Tynan’s response made the sheriff laugh.
Males.
But Tynan was alive. Was safe. As the pressure around Margery’s ribs eased, she could breathe again.
Hearing a whine, she squinted at the shadows. “Donal, there’s a wolf over there. Shay. It’s Shay, and he’s hurt. I’ll take care of Zeb.”
Donal eyed Zeb. “That’ll work.” He rose, squeezed her shoulder, and headed for Shay.
Zeb tried to rise, too.
“If you move, you idiot, I’ll shoot you,” Breanne said in a very calm voice.
Margery blinked, realizing that the pair of legs between her and the hellhound belonged to Bree. The alpha female held a big pistol in one hand and a dagger in the other.
“Where’d you come from?”
Breanne smiled tightly. “I followed you out.”
Tynan walked up, his eyes narrowing. “By the Gods, what are you two doing out here? Don’t you—”
“Perfect timing, Deputy,” Margery interrupted the forthcoming lecture. “Can you help Zeb inside? I think he’s concussed, and I know he’s lost a lot of blood.”
The look Tynan gave her said the lecture was only postponed.
“Let’s go, cahir.” He pulled Zeb to his feet, supporting him when the cahir’s knees buckled. Breanne stuffed the pistol under the waistband of her jeans and took his other side.
Closer to the trees, Donal was trying to hold Shay’s leg to heal it and failing.
The wolf was riled up. And, Gods, Shay sure had a scary growl.
Margery eased herself down to kneel beside the wolf, then tangled her fingers in his fur, past the undercoat, against his skin.
Don’t bite me, please, Alpha. She kept her voice to a low murmur. “Hey, Shay, you know Donal, let him heal your leg so we can go inside. Breanne’s waiting for you, and she won’t let you come inside if you’re bleeding. I bet you can have some cookies if you’re a good wolf.”
Donal flashed her a grin. “There’s a lure.”
She smiled and kept talking, knowing it didn’t matter what she said. The words helped her connect more deeply to the calm at her center. There was the slow lap of the peaceful waters and the moonlight sparkling on the dark surface. How could she not share such tranquility?
Under her hand, muscles relaxed, and with a heavy sigh, Shay laid his head in her lap.
“Margery, you’re a treasure,” Donal said quietly. “I’ll be done in a minute, Shay.”
Donal’s face went still, his eyes distant as he concentrated.
Oh, how she’d love to have his talent. But—she looked down at the quiet alpha—she had a Mother-given talent and her own hard-won skills.
So, as she stroked the soft fur, she offered her gratitude for the blessing of being able to help when needed.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” From his seat on the couch, Donal took the glass of apple cider from Breanne and glanced around the lodge’s sitting area. Everyone had shifted back to human and dressed.
On the other side of the room, Margery’s littermate was serving coffee. Although a bit unsteady on his feet from the alcohol, Oliver had run out to help everyone into the lodge. Donal had been pleased to see him search out Margery to make sure she was all right. Now he was quietly helping where he could, despite his grief for his comrade in arms.
When Oliver was told it was Silas who’d died, he flinched. Apparently, Silas never stayed inside during the dark of the moon. Since he’d never seen a hellhound, he didn’t believe they existed. And so, Oliver had taken another wound to a heart that had already received far too many.
Despite Donal’s anger earlier, he could only feel pity for the young male now.
Turning his gaze away, he drank the apple juice, the icy cold sweetness a surprise after the bitter taste of futility in his mouth. But life had its own balances. He was alive. Tynan and Margery were alive. Against the odds, they’d all survived, even if a bit battered.
Shaking his head, he concentrated on healing the mangled flesh on Ben’s shoulder. “How’d you make such a mess?” Then he knew. A hellhound’s plated armor had razor-sharp points that abraded everything. “You shredded your shoulder on the armor?”
Ben grimaced. “Yep.”
“What happened over there?” Donal’s throat tightened until he had to force the question out. “I saw Tynan playing prey but missed the rest.”
“Tynan baited it? Is that why I’m not dead?” Zeb put an arm around Breanne. He was sitting on the blanket pile next to the fire with Shay on Bree’s other side. “When our attack went to shit, I kinda figured we were hellhound fodder.”
“You should’ve been. We were too far away to reach you in time. But Tynan jumped off the porch so close to the damned thing, he could’ve slapped it on the snout. He drew it right to us.” Cross-legged beside the couch, Owen bent forward to let Margery put pressure on his back wound. “You’re incredibly fast, cop.”
Shoulder against the wall, Tynan laughed. “I had incredible motivation. Those teeth were only a foot away when Ben crashed into it from the side.”
Too fucking close. Donal closed his eyes for a moment. A glance at Margery showed she was equally shaken.
Ben rumbled a laugh. “Yeah, I knocked it off its feet, but if Owen hadn’t chomped onto its hind leg, it would’ve gotten me.”
“I think I bit the same leg as Shay did. The armor plating there was already damaged,” Owen said. “It didn’t appreciate the second bite, I’d say.”
“Was that the horrible shriek I heard?” Margery asked with a shudder.
“Not horrible. Really, really satisfying.” Owen grinned.
Bloodthirsty cahirs.
After one more surge of power, Donal straightened and checked Ben’s shoulder. Only pink lines marred the skin along with a lot of blood. Nothing was open. “Done here.”
He moved to the other end of the couch to work on Owen’s wound. A bite. “You bit the hellhound. Looks to me like it bit you back.”
“Fucking monsters,” Owen grumbled. “Yeah. While I sacrificed my skin for the cause, Alec rolled under it and sliced open its belly.”
“Rolled under it. Why am I not surprised?” Were cahirs born crazy, or did the God make them that way?
Hand on Owen’s back, Donal ran his gaze over the sheriff. Jeans and shirt ripped, no massive bloodstains. “Did it get you, too?”
Alec was as relaxed as Tynan. The two were much alike. “Nope. Just a few scrapes from sliding on gravel, and those will earn me a warm welcome from my mate.”
“You’re gonna play the wounded-while-saving-the-world card.” Owen looked thoughtful. “I’ll have to see if that works.”