Shift Happens(5)

Now one of the most vicious and tenacious of those groups tracked me.

Let them.

I leapt to another tree. The bullet wound lanced pain up and down my front leg. I ignored it and moved on. The Werewolves owned my scent now and they’d hunt me to oblivion. How did they tie in with Clint?

Never mind, no time to think about it now. I needed to outmaneuver them.

I turned east to where I’d left my car by one of the many park exits for a quick escape. If I could drive away, it would give me enough time to heal so I could shift into a falcon and fly. The Werewolves couldn’t track me then. Managing to weave through the leaves along the branches with a few wobbles, I made my way to where the trees thinned out near the end of the path below, the exit gate only half a football field away. Sniffing the air revealed no one upwind.

The tall grass in the undergrowth rustled. A twig snapped downwind. My breath caught.

Rodents scurried across the trail path. I exhaled.

No wolves in sight.

Shimmying down the tree, I got close enough to the ground to jump. Pain shot up my arm. My fur rippled from the discomfort. I hacked in response and limped toward the exit.

Thunder rolled, followed by an instant downpour of rain. A lone shape emerged from the dark in front of me. A growl bounced off the pathway. Too late, the wind changed again. Werewolf. Female.

Another one of my forms pawed inside my head. Let me out, she said. I’ll take her.

I shooed her voice away.

My sleek feline body coiled, pain forgotten, survival instinct taking over. Ears back, I hissed in response. Bring it, bitch. The shewolf answered my challenge and slunk down the path toward me, teeth bared, fur slicked down by the heavy rain. Her gaze darted back and forth, no doubt looking for her pack. When she tilted her head back to call them, I sprang.

My body slammed into hers. We tumbled and rolled, body over body, fur over fur. She yelped when I sank my teeth deep into her back. Blood flowed into my mouth and coiled around my tongue. Wrapping my forelimbs around her, my sharp hind claws raked against her back and legs as I kicked, shredding open her skin. The smell of her blood saturated the air. She spun around, forcing my jaw to release its hold. I tried to bite down again and failed. Stronger than a natural wolf, she threw me off. I landed with a splash and slid along the path, now only twenty feet from the gate. The shewolf staggered, then collapsed in a bloody heap. She’d recuperate eventually. I needed to move.

I turned from the damaged shewolf and sprinted toward the parking lot.

Three more wolves stepped out of the dark shadows. The wolves slipped through sheets of rain, the water pelting against their fur and the path at their feet. I pulled up short. Water and blood ran down my shaking leg. My pulse thundered in my ears. I hissed at them.

They gave no warning and leapt in unison, one large furry motion. One landed on me, while the other two flanked my body before attacking. Teeth clashed and claws ripped. Sharp needles of pain lanced across my back, under my hip and along my shoulders. I rolled and thrashed around, trying to break their hold. One clawed at my back, latching on with its teeth. Another held my back leg between its sharp teeth, tearing skin. The last circled around, looking for an opening. The bitter scent of blood consumed the air, mingling with their excitement and the canned ham smell of my desperation.

A roll of thunder vibrated the air and the wolf on my back loosened his grip. I bucked him off, sending him flying into the others. My chance to escape. I only needed one. I ran.

They sprinted in pursuit, so close their fangs brushed my ankles. It tripped me, making me stagger. But I recovered. My mountain lion could outrun most supes. I kept moving, dodging their attempts to bring me down. I hurtled past trees and hurdled over fallen logs. I stumbled into a clearing and froze. The scent of more wolves in front of me slammed into my nose. A trap.

I spun around. Too late. The wolves behind me closed in, but didn’t attack. They didn’t need to. More of their pack poured into the clearing from the forest, surrounding me.

Dizzy and weak, I assessed my situation. Not good. Let me out, my other form whined inside my head. Let me take them.

Stronger and more agile, my mountain lion stood a better chance against the angry Weres, so I ignored her and focused on the wolves around me. Their jaws snapped open and closed, flashing teeth that gleamed in the moonlight, and sputtering a frothy spray of saliva, but they waited. Their snarls and growls formed a solemn backbeat for the erratic hammering of my heart.

So this was it. Werewolf dinner. Fuck. I cursed Feradea, the deity responsible for protecting Shifters, and braced for impact.

A large black wolf trotted into the clearing to confront me. He had a white-tipped snout, white boots and mitts and would have looked cute had he not been the most intimidating Werewolf I’d ever seen. Standing tall and solid, power rolled off of his body. His eyes bore into mine. I sniffed the air. The strong Werewolf scent of rosemary swirled around me, strong and seductive, laced with sugar. A weird fuzzy sensation spread out from my chest. Whoa.