The twisting road sped beneath us. Ezra directed me, familiar with the area from his many holiday visits to the academy. We scarcely spoke, our attention on the road—and our fears. Sin. Aaron and Tobias. Kai and Valerie. Every moment we were gone meant we couldn’t help Aaron and Kai fight. How long could they last against a pack of full-moon-empowered, mutated werewolves?
When the apothecary’s small community appeared around a bend, I almost blasted right through it. I slammed the brakes, throwing Ezra into his seat belt. The vehicle slid to a stop, my door perfectly aligned with the apothecary’s storefront.
Flashing Ezra a part proud, part apologetic, part terrified smile, I cut the engine and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Time to find Sin.”
Silvery moonlight streaked down, the serene luminescence accentuating the eerie quiet. The apothecary was more like a converted house than a store, and we crept alongside the building and into the backyard without issue. Though the apothecary was dark and silent, a faint light glimmered through the trees across the long backyard.
Ezra gestured toward it and I followed him across the grass. The soft glow leaking through thick spruce boughs brightened. We slipped into the trees and I winced as a twig snapped under my ballet flat. You’d think I could walk more quietly in these than my steel-toed hiking boots, but nope.
Ezra stopped so suddenly I collided with his back.
“Something moved up ahead,” he whispered.
A moment of quiet.
“Oh, so it’s you,” a gruff male voice called. “I was hoping you would come.”
Ezra tensed, then started forward again, moving swiftly instead of quietly. Ahead, a much smaller lawn preceded a ranch-style home, its front window glowing brightly. A man with tangled black hair waited for us in front of the house, and my jaw clenched when I recognized him.
He licked his lips as his gaze fixed on me. “And you brought the feisty girl too.”
Busy scanning for more werewolves, I didn’t bother returning verbal fire. No others in sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t nearby.
Ezra pulled me hard against his side and I gasped in surprise. When he pressed his mouth against my ear, I had to give myself a mental “pay attention!” slap as my stomach did an entire circus’s worth of acrobatics.
“I’ll take him head-on,” he breathed almost soundlessly so the werewolf’s supernatural hearing wouldn’t pick up his words. “Stay back. If you have a clear shot, take it, but only if you’re certain you won’t hit me.”
I twitched my head in the tiniest nod. Keeping his pole-arm in baton mode, he strode onto the lawn. The wolfy creep walked forward to meet him, cracking his knuckles like a club bouncer.
I slipped my brass knuckles out of my pocket and onto my left hand, then withdrew my Queen of Spades and pinched it between my lips. Finally, I unholstered my paintball pistol. Four shots left in this magazine, and I had to make them count. Who knew what else I might need to shoot later.
Giving no warning, Ezra flung a howling gust into the werewolf, then launched forward.
The werewolf barely stumbled from the wind attack. He caught Ezra’s pole-arm on the palm of his hand with a loud smack. Anyone else would’ve broken their arm trying to stop a strike from Ezra when he put real muscle into it, but the shifter’s hand barely dipped under the force.
Ezra wrenched his pole-arm free, then tossed it away. It flew end over end and landed in the grass, well out of reach. My heart crammed into my throat. Ezra didn’t want to chance the shifter taking control of his weapon. He would rely on his steel-plated fists instead.
As they circled each other, I crept out of the trees and circled them.
The man sprang. Faster than before, he rammed into Ezra. Limbs blurred as they tangled, then air boomed—Ezra’s fist smashing into the shifter’s chest. The man flew backward but landed on his feet, gasping.
“You hit hard.” The shifter grinned as he rubbed his sternum. “Harder than a mage should hit.”
I kept moving. I needed to get in the werewolf’s blind spot.
Ezra extended his hands out to either side, palms facing upward and fingers curling. The night air came to life. Swirling gusts leaped at his command, rushing around him, whipping leaves and dirt into a spiral.
He and the shifter lunged. Wind burst outward as they crashed together. Ezra was damn near unstoppable in a one-on-one fight, but not against this opponent, his mutant strength boosted by the full moon. They grappled, fists thudding against flesh. Unleashing his demonic magic could turn the tables in an instant, but Ezra used Eterran’s power only as a last resort—and considering we were in a residential area where witnesses could appear at any moment, it might not be an option.
I slid closer, watching carefully. I’d been ogling Aaron and Kai during sparring for weeks and I’d gotten an idea of the flow of combat. If I could time it right …
Pulling the Queen of Spades from my teeth, I whispered, “Ori repercu …”
Ezra smashed his steel knuckles into the werewolf’s head, blood spattering on impact. The shifter slammed into Ezra, knocking him backward into the ground.
No, too soon. I waited a beat, then began again. “Ori repercu …”
Ezra threw an arm up to shield his throat and the shifter sank his human teeth into the aeromage’s forearm, tearing through the fabric glove.
Not yet, not yet. “Ori repercu—”
With a jab of his fist, Ezra unleashed a maelstrom of wind to throw the man off. Yes, now!
As the werewolf was lifted into the air, I thrust my card out. “—tio!”
Ezra’s wind attack reversed direction and blasted the shifter forward. As he landed on his hands and knees, my pistol was already aimed, and I pulled the trigger.
Pop pop pop.
Three yellow balls hit him square in the ass, bursting on impact. Hell yes. I was a way better shot than I was a throw. I mean, I was only ten feet away, but still. Bullseye!
“Yeah!” I yelled. “Take that, you—”
The shifter shoved up, teeth bared furiously. In three leaping strides, he was on me.
He hit me like a battering ram. I slammed down, pain ricocheting through my back. The pistol flew out of my hand. Baring his teeth, stained with Ezra’s blood, he lunged to bite me—and Ezra appeared, grabbing him by the hair before his teeth reached my skin.
“Ori amplifico!” I shouted as I smashed my fist into the man’s nose.
He was hurled backward in a spray of blood. So was Ezra. They hit the ground with a thump.
“Sorry, Ezra!” I gasped, sitting up.
Ezra rolled away as the shifter writhed in agony—then greenish light spilled out of him. His limbs contorted and fur sprouted all over his body. The monstrous wolf scrambled onto four paws, bloodied snout ridged as he snarled furiously.
Ezra was on his feet, hands spread wide, wind swirling around him. Man against wolf. Shit.
I bolted away from them. Aaron had needed his sword for the extra reach—and Ezra needed his pole-arm. As snarls filled the air, I rushed across the lawn, skimming the dark grass. Where was it? Where? Where—there!
I snatched it out of the grass, turned, and hurled it.
Ezra caught the spinning weapon out of the air an instant before the wolf slammed into him. He went down under the massive beast, vanishing beneath black fur and powerful canine muscles.