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RUNE
This mission quickly went to shit. There are chunks of human all over the street, for fuck’s sake, and blood seeping into the asphalt. A total waste.
Sebastian will flay me for how big of a screw up this is. Not that I don’t deserve it.
Horace got what he deserved for breaking rank and royally fucking us over. His severed head rolls past me as I enter the alleyway, and I give him a boot to the nose for good measure.
I have no clue how he lost his head, but honestly, it’s not that much of a loss.
The actual loss is that Horace’s death leaves us down a man up against the werewolves. At least only two of our enemies are in their fur suits. The beasts stand an impressive five feet tall, covered in thick fur, their eyes sharp and their muzzles curled back to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.
I sense Naomi, Brand, and Fintan moving swiftly through the darkened alleyway, and despite Horace destroying the element of surprise, we still got the jump on the wolves and have trapped them from both ends of the alley.
“It seems you lost your way, boys.” I square off with the backwoods redneck in ripped jeans and flannel. By the way the others are flanking him, he seems to be the man in charge. “It’s a simple system. No mutts this side of the river.”
“Must’ve taken a wrong turn. If you step aside, we’ll be on our way.”
I chuckle. “Not bloody likely. You made one hell of a mess for us by killing tourists in the Quarter. That forfeits your lives right there. We need to make an example of you.”
Werewolves are dangerous fighters as men—being much stronger than humans—but even more deadly are the wolves. In wolf form, the bite of a werewolf carries an enzyme which poisons vampires. It causes a fast and painful erosion of our cellular make up, bringing us to an almost Ebola-type exsanguination in a matter of hours, or sometimes days.
The fact that several are on four legs and the others on two is good for us.
Naomi darts from the shadows, her movements fluid as she dodges the snap of a wolf’s teeth. She bends and flips herself over the hulking beast, plunging her clawed fingernails into its neck with deadly precision.
With a violent swipe, she rips the wolf’s throat open, and holds the writhing beast still as she drains its blood.
First blood drawn, things escalate, and the rest of our troupe descends. Brand and Fintan tag in to help Naomi finish the wolves, and Leo races after the one making a break for it with a woman in his arms.
I take the leader and his right-hand wolf, cutting off their escape and forcing them to face me. “You knew better than to hunt in our territory. You don’t get to walk away from this.”
The man’s gaze narrows. The wolf bares his fangs as a deep, rolling growl rumbles in my chest. Werewolves are fast, but vampires have the advantage of both speed and strength.
Throwing the wolf off is child’s play, and I laugh as his paws hit asphalt, skidding a few feet away. The leader comes in hard and fast, and the battle is on.
Violence erupts and damn, it feels good to let loose.
Playing the part of civilized members of society when you’re driven by blood and rage is tough. When everyone is behaving, there’s no outlet to burn off stress.
Fists and fur fly as our two races clash.
It’s brutal and punishing, and soon the air is thick with the iron tang of blood. As fast as we are, battling the foes on two legs is nothing but a good workout.
Naomi throws a wolf over my head, and I duck as I throw Flannel Dan into the wall. The bricks buckle behind him, creating an indentation in the century-old building.
“That’s all you got? Really?”
His eyes glow gold with the fury of his animal side. Using the wall to push off, he launches himself and shifts in the air. Teeth and claws bared, I calculate my best defense while staying out of range of his bite.
“Rune! Behind ye!”
Finn’s warning comes and I spin in time to catch the wolf lurching forward. Its massive paws land on my chest, sending us both tumbling to the ground.
Mid-fall, the leader hits us in wolf form and sends me spinning. I land with the full weight of two wolves on top of me. It’s a crushing blow and as heavy as a knarr—I’ve hoisted more than a few Norse merchant ships into the water in my day, so I know how heavy a knarr can be.
The impact knocks the breath from my lungs–which might be serious if I needed to breathe like humans do. Instead, it’s just annoying and I scramble to regain the upper hand.
Leo tags in and yanks off the first wolf while I grapple with the second. Its jaw is clenched around the muscle of my shoulder, locked in place. The beast growls, whipping its head in a violent twist of neck, tearing viciously into my flesh.
