Page 41 of Curse of the Wolf
A thud sounded near the front of the theater, followed by a lupine yelp of pain.
My head snapped up. My ally?
“Get that one,” someone ordered. “She’s weaker without him.”
Magic surged from the center aisle, and Duncan cried out again. They had something capable of hurting him.
Fury swept through me, my tail going straight out as the wildness of the moon magic filled me, savagery replacing rational thoughts.
Thinking me distracted, the man on the floor twisted and reached for his gun. Furious because these people were hurting Duncan, I lashed out with my fangs. Guided by the moon’s raw power, I bit over and over, taking out my frustrations on the man.
When he moved no more, I ran to the front of the theater, to where I’d heard my ally’s cry.
His back was to the screen, and two unmoving bodies lay before him, but he was also injured and did not put weight on one of his forelimbs. A single man still stood in the aisle, aiming a gun at him but also pointing a fist with a glowing ruby ring on it.
Duncan shook his head, as if fighting off magic attacking him. Or… what if it was an illness? I could smell that something tainted him, something unfamiliar and dangerous.
Determined to protect my ally, I ran around the front row of seats. The man flinched when he saw me coming and whipped both ring and gun in my direction. His finger twitched on the trigger, and I lowered my body, but I kept running. A bullet whizzed over my head, doing no harm, but a ripple of electricity flowed from the ring and caught me, biting into my skin like a thousand mosquitoes.
Snarling, I crashed into the man, more momentum than focused attack. The intense irritation to my skin as well as my worry for Duncan made me snap my jaws without hesitation. A dozen times, they sank into flesh before the man pitched to the ground, rolling onto his side and flinging his arms over his head. He tried to crawl away, and the attack from the ring stopped, but I didn’t want to let him go. He’d hurt Duncan, and he was a plague to this human settlement.
I would have finished him off, the same as the other, but a cheer from the back of the theater made me lift my head. Was this a new threat?
A slender graying man held up an electronic device, pointing a tiny lens toward me.
“Amazing!” he cried.
Wary, I rippled my lips and growled at him.
“Oh,” he blurted. “I’ll wait outside.”
The owner of this place, I decided, thoughts trickling back into my mind and my blood cooling slightly. He’d requested that we come.
The injured man was crawling up the aisle on his knees and elbows, dragging himself away from me. I could yet finish him off, but a moan came from behind me. My ally.
He’d turned back into a human, the wolf magic leaving him early. Or maybe he’d chosen to have it leave since our enemies were either dead or escaping, too injured to continue to be a threat? He lay on his side, gripping his head, and moaned again.
I padded forward, my hackles lowering, and nosed him with concern. A bullet had grazed his shoulder, and the scent of his blood hung in the air, mingling with the smells of similar odors from the fallen men. But my ally’s blood was distinct, the power of the Old World in it. There was also that taint I’d smelled earlier. Some vile magic that afflicted him.
“Sorry, Luna,” he whispered, still gripping his head. “That was a pathetic showing.” Grimacing, he pushed himself into a sitting position. “I didn’t want to admit it before. Thought it was just a headache that came and went, and that I was a little off, but I also lacked my usual strength in that battle.”
I looked over the fallen and those too injured to crawl away. He’d defeated as many enemies as I, but he did appear diminished. Ill. Or… cursed?
A human memory floated into my wolf mind, something he’d shared with me earlier. He was dying.
13
Back in humanform and dressed in most of my clothes, I walked out of the theater with Duncan. The mock turtleneck had disappeared, but my jacket hid that. Duncan had also found his clothes and dressed, though the bullet wound in his shoulder was bleeding through his shirt. He looked beleaguered, with uncharacteristic bags under his eyes and his hair more tousled than usual.
My stomach knotted with worry.
“I didn’t realize it would affect my ability to fight.” Duncan huffed out a breath and gazed skyward, toward the clouds that had wafted in and obscured the moon and stars. “I didn’t even fully realize… didn’twantto… Sorry, Luna,” he said again. “I hope I didn’t leave you in a bind.”
“You didn’t. You still kicked plenty of ass.” I didn’t want him to think I believed him any lesser because he was losing some of his strength. “And don’t apologize. This is all my fault.”
I shook my head glumly as we approached the thugs’ motorcycles. Harold had done as he’d promised, slashing the tires, so even those men who’d escaped the theater hadn’t been able to ride off. They’d departed on foot, leaving trails of blood.Some hadn’t departed at all. I grimaced at the memory of losing my rational mind, of giving in to the wild savagery of the werewolf magic and killing.
A part of me believed the criminals deserved that fate, but the law wouldn’t agree. And at least one of those police officers knew now what I was, knew that if a wolf was responsible for deaths in Shoreline,Iwould be the one to question. Worse, Harold had recorded some of the fight. Even though I’d been the wolf, I remembered him holding his phone up. Since we’d helped him, Ihopedhe wouldn’t turn the footage over to the police, but even if all he did was put it on a social-media site, it might lead the authorities back to me.
