At her movement, all the black dogs, who had been staring fixedly at Vonhausel’s body, turned and looked at her. She froze. She thought it was fading, it was fading. She knew the black dogs would do something as soon as it had stopped. Some of them, the weaker ones, would just run, put distance between themselves and all the magic and power that had been loosed here. But a lot of them would probably fight. That was what black dogs did if no one stronger controlled them: they fought for dominance and for the pleasure of killing, and then they went out and hunted helpless prey because they loved slaughter better even than fighting with one another. Without Vonhausel, there was no one strong enough to hold so many black dogs.
Or… maybe there might be, sort of. Natividad turned her head the tiny degree necessary to look at the dead shadow-ridden black dogs that had been Zachariah and Harrison. They, too, were staring at Vonhausel’s body. She’d hoped they would collapse when their master died, but of course they hadn’t. That would have made everything too easy. What they would do now, she could not begin to guess. Would they want to butcher the ordinary black dogs, or would they want to rule them and use them as Vonhausel had, or would they want something else entirely?
There were more undead black dogs scattered here and there among the ordinary ones, too. Natividad recognized them, now that she knew what to look for. They were more completely still than any living black dog could be. They were more… more something. Or less something. More foreign, maybe, and less human.
It finally occurred to Natividad that she should actually get back in the car, that she could even try to drive away. Probably the black dogs wouldn’t let her go, but she ought to try. She slid a covert glance sideways, toward the open door of the car. So near. She took a small step that way, trying to slide along unobtrusively.
Every moon-bound shifter and black dog in the whole crowd swung its heavy head around to stare at her, even the dead ones. Natividad stopped as though physically pinned in place by the weight of all those fiery eyes. Heat pounded around her until she half expected to see flames flickering out of the pavement, melting the shattered blacktop to molten tar. When she drew a breath, the air tasted of smoke and bitter ash. It choked her. She stifled a cough, afraid that if she made a sound they would all be on her at once.
She had not really expected to survive the night, but she realized now that she had never really believed, not even for a second, that she would actually die. Not until she had seen Vonhausel and the undead black dogs that followed him. And really not until now, when the brutal attention of dozens of black dogs came down on her like the weight of the darkness given substance and heft. Now she believed it. These black dogs were going to tear her apart before they turned on each other. She stood helpless and horrified before them, not so much afraid, now – although she was afraid – but stricken at the thought of Miguel, of Alejandro, of how her brothers would feel when they knew…
A blur of black through the darkness, hot and furious, and Alejandro hurtled straight over the top of Sheriff Pearson’s huge car and came down in front of Natividad with a controlled lightness that seemed impossible for a creature his size. Every black dog in the crowd surrounding her gave way, wary and astonished, maybe expecting all the Dimilioc wolves to come over the car in his wake. Natividad thought they might – she hoped they would – but they didn’t. Alejandro had come alone.
15
Natividad was sure her brother was going to die. He crouched in front of her, snarling around at all the gathered black dogs with furious loathing. He would fight, but how could he win? Vonhausel’s black dogs would tear him apart and then – much easier – they would tear her apart, too.
Would the Dimilioc wolves come here, later, find the marks of the fight and guess what had happened? Would Miguel ever know? It would be worst of all if he didn’t know, if he had to guess and wonder and imagine – if he wasn’t even sure whether she and Alejandro were dead or not, that would be the worst – but Keziah was supposed to be out here somewhere. She would be watching. She could tell everyone what had happened. It was almost a relief to remember that.
Several of Vonhausel’s black dogs edged forward, their eyes burning with fire and the savage joy of killing. The shadow-wolf that had been Harrison stalked toward her as well, and that was even worse, because there was nothing recognizable in those dead eyes. She felt she was being stared at by death itself, only it was really something worse than death, because death was just death but this thing was really evil.
Alejandro swiveled around to face first one and then another of their enemies, trying not to leave Natividad exposed. She looked with longing at the open car door only steps away, but was afraid to move.