Sealed With a Curse(33)
I shifted her underground and jetted into the house. My ribs hollered in protest as I dove onto the floor to avoid the sizzling were Taran shot overhead with her lightning. “Eat shit, Snoopy!” she yelled from down the hall.
Emme stood in the center of the demolished foyer, next to what remained of the chandelier. She fought to separate Liam and a vampire using the full potency of her force. Liam’s growls cut amid the escalating chaos, rattling the chandelier’s crystals and Emme’s fragile nerves. His muscles tightened beneath his torn shirt, geared to change and release his beast.
The vampire snapped her vicious fangs, impatient to bite. “I can already taste your blood, mutt,” she sneered. From her knife-length nails hung the shredded pieces of Liam’s shirt.
Their shared hatred thickened the air, making it hard for me to catch my breath. One of them was going to die. I knew it. And apparently so did Emme. Sweat glistened on her brow, and her fair skin deepened to red. The opposing forces circled each other, but neither could get through Emme’s power. They thrashed and beat against her hold, ready to draw blood.
Emme’s strength wouldn’t last much longer, but she wasn’t in immediate danger. Shayna was. She balanced on an oval table in the great room, splattered with blood, her swords at the ready. Three enormous werewolves in their powerful beast forms circled her with fangs bared. She shifted her weight from side to side, her long, sleek ponytail whirling behind her. Determination strengthened her pixie face. She wouldn’t allow them to take her down.
And neither would I. Time to come out and play, baby.
Like a ripple of water flowing across my skin, my tigress emerged, tripling my petite stature into an awesome body of dense muscle, fur, and razor-sharp claws.
My T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers fell in tattered threads at my colossal paws. The change didn’t typically hurt, but my injuries caused the already sore areas to stretch painfully and my broken rib to separate further. I collapsed, struggling to push past the relentless stabbing at my side.
I forced myself onto all fours, but not before a five-hundred-pound red wolf lunged past me and jetted toward Shayna.
Fear for Shayna turned to shock as he struck the other wolves like a mighty sledgehammer to a set of bowling pins. The wolves rolled away, their claws scratching against the stone floors as they quickly scurried to their feet and attacked once more. But the red wolf’s deep rumble forced them back. The others exchanged glances and snarled, yet none appeared willing to take on the herculean wolf.
The red wolf communicated to his pack through thunderous growls in alternating pitches and subtle twitches of his body. I didn’t speak wolf, but I understood him to mean, “Back the fuck up. Now!”
The wolves slowly abandoned their target. They paused to glower at me before hustling to the back of the house, where Aric and Misha continued their supernatural smack-down.
The red wolf turned his back to face Shayna. His body changed. Fur retracted and bones and tendons contorted, transforming the limber figure of a beast into the formidable body of a man. A sea of black satin hair spilled over rock-hard muscle and rust-colored skin. The wolf disappeared. In his place stood the gargantuan Koda.
Shayna slowly lowered her swords, her jaw falling open with an audible pop. Koda gripped her waist and gently lowered her to the floor with as much effort as it took to hold a pen. He kept his hands at her hips and twirled her caringly, sniffing at the bloodstains and examining her for injuries. Shayna appraised him, too.
Just not in the same way.
Her already wide eyes narrowly missed falling out of their sockets once they headed south of Koda’s waist. Koda’s thick brows set with concern. “Did they hurt you?”
Shayna shook her head, but didn’t say anything. I couldn’t blame her. Koda’s butt cheeks were tight enough to crush wood with a single clench. I couldn’t imagine the frontal view was any less impressive.
“Son of a bitch!”
My paws tore down the hall toward the sounds of Taran’s not-so-ladylike insults. I skidded into the immense kitchen, where she stood on the countertop, gripping a cabinet door to keep her balance in her damned platform pumps. More wolves had arrived. Taran jolted them with lightning as they neared, but her strikes weren’t as effective. The wolves yelped and twitched, yet continued to advance. Taran was almost out of juice. But she wasn’t out of attitude.
She slumped a little when she saw me and shot the wolves a siren grin. “You’re so screwed,” she declared. “My sister is going to kick your asses!”
There were many moments throughout our lives when I wanted to slap the snot out of Taran. This was one of them.