Sealed With a Curse(32)

She lay near the massive hole Misha had made with Aric’s body. Her short blond bob stood on its ends, tips smoking. Taran must have jolted her with lightning in retaliation for taking me for a ride.

Sadly, she didn’t seem happy with her new look. “Ugly freak,” she spat. “This is all your fault!” She clambered to her feet and heaved a Victorian hall stand at me.

She misjudged my speed.

She also misjudged my sword-wielding sister.

Shayna leaped into the air and spun with ballerina elegance befitting her thin frame. Light reflected off her swords as she used her gift to transform the dull blades into deadly sharp weapons. With a piercing whoosh she sliced through the giant stand like a sheet of paper. Two perfectly even pieces crashed to the floor as she landed on one knee, arms outstretched. She twirled the swords as she rose, her tense muscles screeching for action. “Don’t touch my sister!” she hissed.

A small smirk found its way to my lips. Luke Skywalker could suck it. He had nothing on Shayna.

Frustration and rage pervaded the blond wolf’s bellow as she bounded toward Shayna. I leaped in front of my sister, believing one good toss deserved another. My fingers grasped the wolf’s crispy hair and pant leg as she pounced. Her screams wafted throughout the foyer as I pitched her through the large oak doors and into the great outdoors. Blondie’s butt dug a straight line across Misha’s meticulous lawn. Good thing that tall aspen was there to deflect her skid; otherwise the little cutie might have kept going.

My feet barely made a sound as I barreled toward her. She charged, her features contorted with fury, her hot breath visible in the cold night air. She snarled. I roared. The moment we connected we hammered blow after blow.

My strength surprised her; so did my ruthless strikes to her face and stomach. She’d learned to fight. Raised on tough inner-city streets, I’d learned to survive. Her aggressive offense quickly changed to defensive blocks and retreats. I wanted to knock her out, furious she’d put her hands on me. Despite my anger, I allowed her to draw back. The fight riled my beast, yet that didn’t mean I’d allow her to kill.

This time.

I slammed into the crushing embrace of a werebear, his grip fracturing at least one of my ribs. This time I couldn’t silence my shrieks.

“Do you want to take her?” the bear growled.

The she-wolf’s eager grin widened. She stopped smiling when I broke the bear’s nose and cheekbones with my rapid head butts. The bear dropped me with a spew of curses and a crapload of negative comments about my mother.

The moment my feet touched the cold ground I shifted down and behind him. He pivoted around as I surfaced, his lids peeling back when my fist met his groin. Other than a little gurgle, no sound escaped.

I finished breaking to the surface. My hands held my broken rib as I fractured his left knee with my foot. He collapsed, gripping his man parts, and threw up.

Children obviously weren’t in his foreseeable future.

I lunged at the wolf, angry as all hell that she would have attacked me had I not broken out of the bear’s viselike grip. I may have fought dirty, but she was a dirty fighter. We fell onto a wrought-iron table set. I punched her a few times in the face before another wolf hauled me off by the hair. I rammed my elbows wildly and broke her ribs before picking up a chair and knocking her into Misha’s wooded property.

I tossed the chair aside and returned to face Blondie. She backed away, hands up in surrender and blood dripping down to her skimpy designer blouse. I kept her in my sights, debating whether to knock her out, but Emme’s screams had me bolting back to the house.

God, I was furious. Bloodlust plagued Tahoe. How the hell had we become the enemy? I needed to help my sisters and find Aric.

Something hard whipped me across the legs as I leaped toward the entrance. I crash-landed on the stone steps. The sharp edges sliced me across the breasts and shins and knocked the air from my lungs in a painful rush. My fractured rib slid torturously beneath my skin, but if I wanted to live, I needed to move. Fast.

I flipped onto my back, holding tight to my side. Pieces of wood lay by my feet. It seemed Blondie had found a nice thick branch to hurl against my legs. My eyes trailed from her soiled black dress pants to the sharp, pointy shard of wood she aimed at my heart. I rolled out of the way and kicked her in the skull. She shook her head and struck again, but my next blow to her noggin made a snapping sound and ass-planted her onto the walkway. I yanked her up by her skimpy shirt and rammed my finger into her chest with each word I growled. “You’re. Pissing. Me. Off!”

Granted, I was beyond pissed from the moment I saw her touching Aric. But she didn’t need to know that. Besides, my tigress preferred to intimidate at every given opportunity. Especially when someone tried to kill us.