Ripper(38)

I dodged the two wolves who attacked next. I rolled to the left and hit the side of the brick wall. Something cold hit my hand and I found a nice long piece of rebar someone had conveniently left behind for me. It was slender but strong and would work beautifully if enough pressure was applied. I bounced up and landed on my feet, twirling my newfound weapon as the wolves tried to surround me again. I let them. A neat little circle would make them easier to kill, that dark voice that was all mine said.

When the circle tightened, I swung the metal staff around and brought it down on the wolf in front of me as I kicked out and caught the one behind me. They both went down and I continued the successful move as I turned and took them down two by two, my blood pumping in a satisfying way it never had before. I didn’t think. I acted and reacted, my body a tool of the instincts riding me. I brought the rebar down on the last wolf and for good measure, I stood over that big black canine and shoved the rebar through his torso. I did it with a vicious sort of glee, enjoying the sounds and the way the blood spurted out of the wound I caused.

Maybe Gray should be more afraid of me than I was of him. Gray wasn’t the only one with pieces of himself he wanted to hide.

That was when I knew something was distinctly wrong with this whole scenario. The four men holding Gray were the problem. They held him down, but their faces were expressionless. It didn’t make sense. There should have been something in their eyes; rage, blood lust, anything. Packs are close-knit. I’d killed most of their pack, but they did their jobs with blank looks and bland eyes.

Definitely wrong. I looked down at the wolf at my feet with rebar sticking out of his chest. He lay there and while everything seemed right on the surface, something was off. I pulled the rebar out and it felt weird. It came out too easily. It slid out like a hot knife cutting through butter, but this was flesh. I should have had to use force to get that weapon back out.

There was another roar from the far side of the alley. A second wave had gathered. Another ten wolves moved toward me, but I wasn’t buying it.

I held the bloody rebar at my side and relaxed, letting the night air rush across my senses. It told me everything I needed to know. No smell. I couldn’t smell blood or wolves or anything but the faintest whiff of whatever aftershave Gray used.

The wolves were big, their claws enormous, and yet they didn’t scratch along the concrete. I could only hear Gray breathing and then yelling.

“Kelsey! Look out!”

I opened my eyes and there was a huge brown wolf leaping through the air to attack me. His mouth was open and it was full of snapping, snarling teeth, waiting to rip me apart. His claws were long and they would sink into my flesh as he started to eat me. Or they would if he was real.

The wolf attacked and I walked straight through the illusion.

“Shit.” I heard a new voice curse from the back of the alley. Now we were getting somewhere. Whoever was pulling the strings knew I wasn’t going to play anymore.

Gray still struggled hard against his illusionary captors. Whoever was pulling this magic was damn good. Gray really believed they were stronger than him. He held his own body in a very awkward position, with all four limbs off the ground because he truly believed there were men restraining him.

“It’s an illusion, babe,” I said matter of factly. “You can get up.”

He fought his captors, still captured by the magic. He stared at the men holding him, pulling his own limbs in a desperate attempt to get away. “What are you talking about? Kelsey, they’re going to get you. Please!”

Another two wolves were attacking, but I could see how insubstantial they were. As they bore down, I swiped a hand through them and they disappeared like a wisp of a cloud.

“They’re not real, Gray,” I said calmly as I sensed something that was. I smiled as I pointed my little staff down to the end of the alley where a man stood. I hadn’t seen him before and maybe I wasn’t supposed to see him, but he was there all the same. He was a Goth god in leather and denim. His long black hair hung around his face. He really was a lovely man. A bit pale, but he had potential. Note, I said had potential because I was about to kill the son of a bitch, though not until he answered a few questions. I raised my voice so Gray could hear me, but I didn’t take my eyes off the man behind the curtain. “Nothing has been real since we stepped into this alley. Nothing except him.”

The Goth god’s mouth turned down and his hands were on his hips. “How the hell can you see me?”

I shrugged. “Dude, you’re just standing there. I’m not sure how you expect me not to see you.”