<Nathan?>
<I’ve got the bus started and ready to go. Simon, move fast. Men are gathering in the parking lot. They all have clubs and crowbars, and they’re watching the bus.>
He kept moving, kept watching. The shoppers and merchants at nearby tables looked around as he passed, like deer that sensed there was something wrong but weren’t sure if they should run. Humans a couple of aisles away paid no attention. But the feel of the place had changed; an ugly scent now drifted in the air ahead of him, a scent Wolves recognized as a threat.
Kowalski and Debany were on his right, keeping pace with him. Ruthie and Merri Lee, along with Starr, were a step behind them, each lugging a carry sack. The men were still talking on their mobile phones, but their shirts were rucked up to reveal the badges attached to their belts.
<Henry?> Simon called.
<I’m here, on your left and a couple of steps behind. Keep moving.>
<Vlad?>
<Behind you. Crystal and MacDonald are just ahead of me. But there is a pack of humans behind us who . . . Simon, I think one of the merchants was selling weapons in secret. Some of the humans might have guns.>
<If they fire at us, they’ll injure or kill some of their own.>
<Do you think humans care about such things?>
No, he didn’t think they cared.
Jenni stopped and looked back when Crystal cried out. Simon looked over his shoulder and snarled. A man had snatched one of the Crow’s carry sacks and waved it above his head, taunting her to try to get it back.
Crystal dropped her other carry sack and tried to reclaim the sack that had been taken from her, leading her away from the rest of the Others.
<Let it go, Crystal,> Simon snapped.
<I gave the humans money. Those shinies are mine!>
MacDonald caught Crystal around the waist and lifted her off her feet. Ignoring her cries about her lost treasures, he headed toward the rest of their group, pushing aside humans who didn’t have enough sense to get out of the way.
<Simon!> Nathan shouted. <Hurry!>
Looking toward the front of the building, Simon saw the men standing between him and the building’s open doors. At first he thought there were only six men looking for a fight. That made it an even number of males, with the terra indigene and police officers having the advantage of teeth, claws, and training. Then more men joined the first six enemies. And more. And more.
And all of them carried some kind of weapon.
Simon stopped. Kowalski and Debany stopped with him, forming a line.
“These are not good odds,” Debany whispered.
“We’re police officers,” Kowalski said, his raised voice both a warning and a challenge. “You men step aside and let these people leave.”
“They aren’t people, and you’re nothing but a fucking Wolf lover,” one man said. “Don’t care if you’re a cop. We’re going to teach you a lesson.”
“You don’t want to do this,” Simon warned.
The man bared his teeth. “Yeah, we do.”
Kowalski shouted, “We’re police officers! Put your weapons down now!”
“Humans first, last, and always!” the man shouted, rushing toward Simon.
As the man swung a length of pipe at Simon’s head, Henry yelled “Simon!” and swatted the Wolf, knocking him to the ground at the same moment the Grizzly roared with rage and pain—and the man who had swung the pipe fell to the ground, his shirt turning wet and red.
Shouts. Screams. Gunshots behind them.
People ran toward the doors or to another part of the building or anywhere that would take them away from the fight. But the men with clubs and knives rushed toward Henry and Simon while others attacked Kowalski and Debany.
Instinctively, Simon shifted what he needed as he sprang up to meet the attack. Wolf head with teeth that could slash and jaws strong enough to break bone. Hands with claws that could tear flesh.
He fought hard, biting and clawing, until he broke through the human wall, providing an escape for his pack.
<Simon!> Nathan howled.
A Wolf alone had no chance against a mob.
More shots and screams and . . .
“Officer down! Officer down!”
Simon hesitated. Nathan was a Wolf, one of his own. Nathan needed him. But as the Courtyard’s leader, his pack included Crows and Grizzlies and vampires . . . and even a few humans.
Sorry, Nathan. Sorry, Meg.
Turning away from the doors, Simon leaped back into the fight.
A car pulled into the Courtyard’s customer parking lot. Two young men, college age, got out and walked toward Main Street. As they passed Howling Good Reads, they looked in the windows and paused when they spotted an old man standing near the counter. Not knowing, or caring, who he was, they laughed and gave him the finger. When he smiled, revealing the fangs of the Sanguinati, they shuddered and hurried to cross Main Street before the traffic light changed.
Another car pulled into the lot. A man and a woman, a little older than the other two humans, walked up the street and went into the Stag and Hare.
Two more cars pulled in, as if the Courtyard’s lot was suddenly public parking. Humans walking or driving past wouldn’t have thought there was anything unusual when a van pulled into the lot. Three men exited from the van’s back door and casually walked a few steps to the glass street door that led to the efficiency apartments above the seamstress/tailor’s shop.
Tess didn’t hear anyone in the hallway, but she felt the presence of someone outside the efficiency apartment being used by Lieutenant Montgomery and Lizzy.
Her coils of hair turned the pure black of death as she stepped out of the apartment, but she kept her eyes lowered, just in case the presence wasn’t an intruder. A direct look from her—eyes meeting eyes—would kill her prey, but even looking at her when she was in her true form would damage flesh.
Looking at the floor, Tess saw smoke that gradually became an old-fashioned black velvet gown. “Nyx,” she warned.
“My eyes are closed.”
No reason to doubt Nyx, but Tess still focused her eyes on the wall next to the Sanguinati’s shoulder, allowing her to see without actually looking at the other female.
“While it’s possible to harm us in our smoke form, it’s very hard to kill us,” Nyx said. “An earth native like you might succeed in killing one of us, but you wouldn’t survive the fight.”
Harvester. Plague Rider. For years she had kept her secret from the rest of the Lakeside Courtyard. Now it seemed there were many who knew what she was. What bewildered her was that they didn’t seem to care that one of Namid’s most ferocious predators lived among them. Normally her kind lived on the fringes, avoided and feared. Acceptance, true acceptance, was a rare and valued gift.
“What do you want, Nyx?”
“A van pulled into the customer parking lot. The enemy will be here at any moment.”
“Then you should leave.”
“No, I should stay. A bullet can hurt you, even kill you, if the enemy is able to fire a gun before you can harvest enough life to incapacitate him.”
True. And if the enemy knew anything about her kind and fired without looking at her, she would be at risk. “What are you suggesting?”
Nyx smiled. “That sometimes it’s more practical, and more fun, to hunt in pairs.”
Grab the human weapon to block a blow while his teeth tore into flesh. Dodge the blows that could break bone and leave him helpless.
Simon couldn’t keep track of his pack. Humans and Others didn’t know how to fight as a unit to bring down the enemy, and their defense of the weaker among them was more like adult bison bunching together to protect the calves. That worked well enough for big animals with hooves and horns, but it wasn’t going to work for the pack. Despite the number of humans they had already wounded or killed, more enemies were closing around them. They had lost the chance to run, and when there was no longer enough room to fight . . .