Behind her, the baby whimpered. She wanted to grab her and run, but Leontes had said not to touch the baby.
Leontes.
He was another problem. She had never seen him fight, and if he went up against Oleander, it would probably be the last time she ever did. Best to stall while she figured this out.
"I'm taking the child," Oleander said.
Kiara tapped her fist to her chin. "Hmmm. Let me think. That would be a 'no' to your babysitting offer." She shifted to block the child from his view and nodded toward the dead bodies. "Your references? Unimpressive. Instead, Butch, tell him what he's won."
Butch was not anywhere in sight, but if Oleander thought she had someone in the wings, it might give him pause.
After several moments of silence, the hooded figure said, "I didn't hear anything. Did you?"
Kiara chewed her lip. "Butch is a bit shy, but what he meant to say is since her troops are surrounding this place as we speak, the grand prize is a one-way trip to see the Queen of the Undead, where you will enjoy a torturous debriefing on your latest escapades. That sounds like fun, doesn't it?" And how she wished it were true.
Oleander's arm whipped back and shot forward.
Metal glinted.
Kiara twisted sideways just in time to miss the dagger thrown at her heart.
As the weapon clattered harmlessly to the floor, the hooded figure shrugged a smile that melted in a liquid motion. His body morphed.
Limbs stretched, fingers curled and sharpened, as the torso contorted. He fell on four legs, now a creature that resembled an oversized jungle cat. Black claws sprung out. Scaled skin sprouted and shimmered dark purples and blues. Its body, long and lean with banded muscle, looked emaciated.
A serrated, forked tongue flicked out of a mouth that ran the extent of its long snout, a chaotic jumble of needle-like teeth, thin lips peeled back in a wet snarl. Black horns tangled off his head like a twisted briar. His long tail twitched an ominous warning, a metronome counting down the last moments of her life. A guttural hiss snaked through salivating teeth.
Muscles coiled, the lizard-cat assassin leapt.
Kiara ran for the child, chubby arms reaching toward her, the little face shining with innocent trust, but she stopped short, hands fluttered in useless frustration. "Stupid Leontes."
A blow from behind knocked her to her stomach and sent her sliding on the hardwood floor. A heavy weight on her back pinned her down. The attacker rode her like a skateboard, hot breath gusting her neck. She saw the wall coming fast, ready to crack her head open.
As she slid past the fallen dagger, she grabbed it, reached back, and buried the blade into flesh. A pained howl ripped out and the weight lifted. Kiara rolled to her feet, momentum slamming her back into the wall. Her head snapped against the door jam.
She blinked to erase the blurred vision. A hand to the back of her throbbing skull came away slick with blood.
An enormous white wolf filled the hallway, hackles raised, furious golden eyes trained on Kiara. Blood spattered the snow-white fur where the blade protruded from its shoulder. Beyond the wolf, the baby sat on the floor. Both were unaware that the lizard-cat slunk up the stairs behind them, beady eyes focused on the tiny prey.
Kiara's gaze flickered around the room, wondering where the wolf had come from and hoping he had not brought friends. Two against one was bad enough.
The lizard-cat crept onto the final step and launched itself at the baby. The white wolf lunged at Kiara.
With a running start, she leapt over the wolf's snapping jaws, landed on the animal's head, and ran down its back. She jumped off and slid across the floor on her hip, scooping up the baby as she passed by-because to hell with the no-touching rule-and continued to slide under the lizard-cat leaping through the air.
Kiara shot toward the stairs, holding the child close to her chest. The wolf's muscles rippled as it leapt, teeth bared. Kiara rolled the baby onto a rug behind her, turned in time to catch the wolf's snout in both hands, and slammed its mouth closed. Muffled snarls erupted. Its head snapped back and forth. Spittle sprayed. Kiara held firm against the thrashing animal.
"Relax, Mr. Snowball," Kiara ordered, but he did not obey and their violent struggle sent them tumbling down the stairs.
Despite hitting the floor hard, Kiara maneuvered the wolf into a headlock and wrapped her legs around the struggling body. Her cheek pressed against its silken fur, so incredibly soft. Past the scent of fresh rain which clung to its coat, she noticed a rich musk, an earthy aroma she found pleasing.
Funny, she had expected wet dog.