Magic Strikes(59)

there were at least ten. The front face was that of a beautiful man; the others were monstrous.

Jim's lean form paused on the roof of a structure directly opposite the chariot. He crouched and

looked at me.

I knelt by the chariot's wheels. The building on which he perched was long, with solid walls and

narrow windows. And in good repair. Dark, unfamiliar, and full of Reapers. How nice.

Jim pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. Go to the back.

I dashed to the side and jogged through the ruins, doubling back to the rear of the building. I

pulled Slayer out and snuck along the wall until I could see the square and the chariot.

Jim dropped from the roof, glanced at me, and planted his feet. His maw opened. A long, rolling

roar tumbled out, ending in a pissed-off feline snarl.

A challenge.

A dull thud resonated through the square. Two shapes walked out into the open, their backs to

me. Both male, broad-shouldered, heavily built, and wearing identical T-shirts and pants. Jim spat

and growled, making a ruckus. Neither heard me moving in behind them.

The forefront man tore off his T-shirt. The skin of his back split down the middle. Shaggy black

fur spilled through the gap. The creature ripped the human flesh off its left shoulder, revealing a

deformed clavicle.

His hands clutched at the remainder of the human skin and jerked it off his body like a paper

hospital gown. He kicked the shreds aside, swelling in size, until he stood seven feet tall. Dense

black fur striped with orange sheathed his frame in a reversal of a tiger pelt. He raised his arms to

the side and I realized what was wrong with his clavicle: a second set of shoulders branched from

his spine, set parallel, side by side with the first. Four muscular arms flexed, clawing the air.

His buddy gave out a long, hoarse sigh and shed his own skin suit. He was shaped like a human,

with the appropriate set of limbs-thank God for small favors-but his skin was blood-red and

layered with a pattern of tiny scales.

I had expected a welcoming committee, but nobody had mentioned a free striptease.

Jim snarled. The four-armed freak took a deep breath and leaned forward. A deafening roar

washed over me, the deep, primeval sound of a huge predator hunting for its prey in darkness. It

drowned Jim's snarls and he took a small step back.

The creature roared louder, taking Jim's retreat as his due and promising no mercy. He was

larger than Jim and at least a hundred pounds heavier. Jim hissed. The four arms motioned to him:

come.

Jim leapt onto the four-armed creature. The moment they clashed in a whirlwind of teeth and

claws, I sank Slayer into the back of its red-scaled friend. The blade bit deep, severed the spinal

column, and came out in a small spray of crimson. The Reaper whipped around, but his legs failed

him. As he went down, I saw his face: human and impossibly beautiful.

Wood groaned. A lean shape sailed over me and landed in a crouch on the stones. A female

creature. Her mint-green body was furry on the stomach and chest and studded with foot-long

needles like a porcupine's on her back. Black claws the length of my hand tipped her fingers. She

glared at me with yellow eyes and charged.

Her clawed hand swiped at me, too fast. I dodged left, but she caught me. Pain sliced down my

side. She dashed, trying to get behind me. I let her, reversed my blade, and stabbed backward into

the soft green gut just under her rib cage. Slayer sliced into flesh, meeting elastic resistance, and I

withdrew.

The creature raked at me with its left hand, oblivious to the blood gushing from its stomach. I

spun and threw myself back, dancing away. Claws whistled past my face. I kept dodging. Strike,

strike, strike. No finesse, no special training. Like a cat fighting: clawing straight ahead. Just like

the fellow in the parking lot.

I dropped under the claws and sliced across her inner thigh. It cost me another singe of pain

along my back, and I rolled clear.

Strike, strike, strike. Keep dancing with me, baby.

Red stained the creature's fur with her every step. Her strikes lost their lethal speed. Her chest

heaved. She stumbled, swayed forward, and I caught her and pulled her onto my sword. Slayer

sliced into her chest and emerged from her back, bright with arterial blood.

Across the clearing, the four-armed freak tore away from Jim, sprinted to the trees, leaping to an

inhuman height, and fled into the branches. With a snarl, Jim chased him and vanished into the

jungle. Going after them would be a waste of time. I couldn't match Jim's speed, and a jaguar

needed no help hunting through the trees.

I slid the inert body off my saber.

The red-scaled man lay prone on the ground, swallowing air in rapid, shallow gulps. Beyond

him, the door to the building gaped, a rectangle of solid black. I flicked my blade, flinging the blood