Breathing hard, she coiled her chain around her hand to make a metal fist, ignoring the twinge as the metal touched her still partially singed hands.
She dodged his next blow. Her ankle scraped against a fist-size rock.
When he swung again, she twisted and slammed her metal gauntlet against his face with an arm-jolting thud then used the momentum and rolled, snatching the rock.
Not fast enough. He sliced through the flesh her thigh. Pain streaked up her hip with every step. Damn, but she really needed to get London to train her on how to fight. She couldn’t rely on her powers anymore, not when they were so erratic.
She hefted the baseball-sized granite. When he lunged again, she brought up the rock and swung. The knife snapped with a ping, leaving him a two-inch blade. He’d have to get closer to reach her. If she could get her hands on him, she could tear the power from him.
Her wounds slowly oozed blood down her arm, thigh and shoulder. Too many cuts, too many wounds, too much spent energy. Her body protested every small movement. If she didn’t finish this soon, she wouldn’t be good for anything.
She risked a glance at Taggert to see him awake, aware and waiting for the slightest signal to attack. Faint voices sounded behind her, too far away to be of any assistance.
Soldier Boy appeared to be distracted. She lunged forward, reaching for his aura. The instant her hand touched him, the shield around him bowed under her touch, met resistance, then popped like a balloon, and her power jabbed through. Energy danced through her fingers, and her core sparked, greedily gulping down everything within reach.
“Raven!”
Soldier Boy pulled back his arm and slammed his knife forward. Though she knew it was too late, she threw herself sideways.
The jagged edge meant for her heart sank into her upper shoulder. Her legs buckled. Taggert’s devastated gaze locked on hers as he struggled to his feet.
She reached up, ready to yank the blade free, waiting for the last second in order to preserve her strength when a blurred shape erupted from the woods to her right.
Jackson. Coming low and fast.
He launched himself head first into danger. Just when she expected them to collide, Jackson shifted to his wolf mid-flight in an awe-inspiring display of power.
Shifting normally wasn’t smooth, wasn’t graceful. Jackson’s shift to his animal form was different. There were no muscles popping, no bones snapping or rippling fur, no blood as flesh reformed. What should’ve taken minutes, he managed in seconds. Part of her wondered if she might have changed something by trying to fix him.
Then all thoughts vanished when Soldier Boy went down, arms locked around the wolf, a crazed smile on his face. The wolf yipped. Then there was a snap. A horrible sense of disbelief clenched her heart. The bodies were still. As each second passed with no movement, the vise around her throat tightened.
Regret staggered her. Regret for not taking the chance to mate Jackson when he’d wanted. But there was hope. He was still in wolf form. That meant he was still alive. She clung to her shaky reasoning as she crawled toward him. She groped for her core, but there wasn’t enough power to try to bring him back from the dead, much less heal him.
Hands reached for her, and she struggled, determined to reach Jackson. Durant cupped her chin, forcing her to look up. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear anything as the buzzing in her ears.
“He’s alive.”
She followed Durant’s nod. Fur rippled as the animal pulled free of the weight trapping him. Soldier Boy’s arm flopped on the ground, and Jackson turned toward her, a savagely triumphant expression in his eyes. Eyes she recognized, fiercely proud and reveling being in his wolf form once again.
The big wolf was gorgeous, the lines of his body tightly packed with muscles, and easily twice his normal size. His fur was an amazing mix of tawny gold tinged with black instead of the normal black and white of his race.
Tears clouded her vision.
He took a hesitant step and whined when his foot refused to hold his weight. As he limped toward her, she couldn’t grasp that they’d made it.
“You’re alive.” Her eyes caressed Jackson’s form, looking for any sign of further injuries.
“And under arrest for murder.” Scotts’ voice broke through her shock. She turned from Jackson to face the resolute expression of the police.
Chapter Thirty-three
The pain grew in waves as the numbness wore off, but if Raven could’ve reached Scotts, she would’ve smacked him. The worst thing was that she couldn’t even catch her breath to curse him. Remorse darkened Scotts’ gaze, but it wouldn’t prevent him from doing his job. Jackson licked her face, distracting her from her anger almost like he was trying to tell her that he’d be all right.