I let the arrow go. It sliced through the air, propelled as much by the bowstring as by my will, and sliced straight into the unprotected area of her head. Yes! Nailed it!
The arrow whined and exploded. Blood shot out of the behemoth’s nostrils. She shook her head…and charged Ascanio. He leaped up and left, bounced off the glass, and jumped behind her, slicing the behemoth’s leg with his claws on the way.
Damn it. It didn’t even faze her.
Ascanio and my arrows weren’t doing enough damage. Neither would machetes. We could hack at her all day, and we’d do no good.
The behemoth chased Ascanio. The boy jumped back and forth, dashing like some mad rabbit. He couldn’t keep this up forever.
If only we had something, some weapon, something…
The monster swung her tail, right over the heavy jackhammer laying abandoned on the glass. It was still attached to the tank by the hose that pumped enchanted water into it. The hose was way too short to reach the beast.
I spun to Felipe. “Will it work without the hose?”
It took him a second. “Yes!” He jerked his hand up, fingers spread. “Five minutes.”
I threw down my bow and sprinted to the jackhammer. My paws slipped on the glass, slick with beast blood. I slid, jumped, landed by the jackhammer, and heaved it off the ground. A heavy bastard.
A tree-trunk-sized monster leg loomed in front of me. I leaped and clawed my way up the beast to the top, hauling the jackhammer with me. The freaking thing must’ve weighed three hundred pounds, and I had to drag it one-handed. My right arm felt like it would wrench out of the socket. I pulled myself up, digging into the monster’s hide with my left hand and my hind claws.
The creature moved, chasing Ascanio. Her muscles bulged under me. I clung to her, like a flea, and scrambled up.
I made it over the shoulder and ran toward her head. She roared again and I planted the jackhammer right at the base of her neck, the only spot unprotected by the carapace.
I flipped the jackhammer’s ON switch.
Nothing.
Below people were yelling something. I flicked my ears.
“Chant! Chant it to start!”
Aaaargh. I chanted, praying it would start faster than our cars did.
Ascanio dashed around the work site, buying me time. Below, the smaller monsters attacked the line of workers.
Work, I willed, chanting. Work, you blasted stupid tool.
Work.
Work.
The jackhammer shuddered in my hands. I dug my foot claws into the beast’s back and plunged the jackhammer deep into the behemoth’s flesh. The chisel pounded into the creature’s muscle. Hot blood drenched my feet.
The beast howled in agony, deafening me with the sound of her torture. The jackhammer ate its way down, into her body, and I clung to it, sinking in.
The behemoth shook like a wet dog. I gripped the jackhammer and drove it deeper and deeper. It pulled me in. My arms sank into wet flesh. I took a deep breath and then my nose and my face connected with bloody mush. Pressure ground me. I heard a dull rhythmic sound and realized it was the beast’s heart beating next to me.
Suddenly the full weight of the jackhammer hit my arms. I fell.
The jackhammer hit the ground, dead, and I landed on top of it, its handle conveniently impacting with my rib cage.
Ow. That’s a cracked rib for sure.
Above me the beast stumbled, a red hole in her chest dripping blood and liquefied flesh.
I sprinted away, running for my life.
The creature teetered, blocking out the sun, and crashed down with a deafening thud. The glass floor of the clearing shattered from the impact. Fractures raced from her body up into the translucent glass icebergs. For a fraction of a second nothing moved, and then giant chunks of glass slid from the walls and plummeted down, exploding into razor-sharp shrapnel.
I threw myself behind the enchanted water tank.
All around me glass fell with thunderous blasts, as if I were crouched in the middle of an artillery salvo. Shards slashed at my hide, stinging me like a swarm of bees. I smelled my own blood. The ground shook.
Gradually the bursts slowed. Silence claimed the clearing. I straightened.
Where is the boy?
The tent lay in shambles, crushed beneath a chunk of amber glass the size of an SUV. A man was crying, his leg sliced open. People were slowly rising from hiding. I scanned the survivors. Felipe was hugging a young man. At least his son had survived.
No Ascanio.
Please be alive.
A loud hyena cackle rang through the clearing. I turned. He stood on top of the beast. Blood drenched his fur. His monster-mouth split in a happy, psychotic grin.
I exhaled.
Gradually it sank in. The Mother Beast was dead. I had killed her. The taste of her blood burned in my mouth. Behind her, a deep black hole bore into the ground beneath the remnants of the railroad car. It must’ve been her underground lair. She had raised her brood there, safe and far away from everyone, until Kyle’s crew invaded her den.
Such an awful waste. None of this was necessary. At least one person died, many others were injured, and this great magnificent beast and her brood lost their lives all because Kyle Bell wanted to make a quick buck on the side. He stood by the remnants of the tent now, arms crossed, barking orders.
I marched over to Kyle. He saw me, opened his mouth, and I backhanded him. The blow knocked him to the ground. “This is your fault. You brought these people here. You knew this place was dangerous.” I pulled him upright and spun him toward the dead beast. “Look! People died because of you. Do you understand that? If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have had to murder her. She was just protecting her children.”
“She tried to kill us!”
I backhanded him again. “She tried to kill you because you broke into her house.”
The workers stood around us, their faces grim. Nobody made any move to help their boss.
I looked at them. “Anything you reclaim here is contaminated. Being here is a crime. Taking anything out of this zone is a crime. You need to know this.”
Kyle stayed down, until I grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him up, his face two inches from mine. “I will ask this only once. What was in the vault under the Blue Heron?”
“What vault?”
“You answer her,” Felipe said. “You tell her everything now.”
“I don’t know what the hell this bitch is talking about.”
“If you don’t answer me, I’ll kill you.” I shook him, my bloody claws staining his shirt with the behemoth’s gore. “What was in the vault?”
“I don’t know!” he screamed. “I don’t know anything about any vault! I swear!”
“Did you have something to do with the murders at the Blue Heron site? Answer me!”
His pupils dilated and he was hanging in my hands, completely limp, paralyzed by fear. He wasn’t lying. People in a state of complete panic freeze or run. Mother Nature turns off their mental faculties, so her favorite children don’t think themselves to death. Kyle was too terrified to formulate a lie. He truly had no idea what I was talking about.
I dropped him and looked at his crew. “He’s all yours. You need to clear out. I’m reporting this site to the first cop I see.”
I found my bow and quiver and walked away. Ascanio jumped off the beast and joined me. His voice was a deep growl, shredded by his teeth. “It. Wash. Aweshome.”
“This was a tragedy.” People came before animals. I knew that, but when you turn into an animal, your perspective is a little different.
“Yesh. But aweshome.”
He was a boy. What did he know?
“Sho, we didn’t learrrn anyshing?”
“That’s not true. We established that Kyle Bell had nothing to do with the murders. We can eliminate him from our suspect pool. Are you hungry?”
“Shhtarrrving.”
“Good. Let’s go find something to eat.”
CHAPTER 5
The best thing about Big Papaw’s Cookout was their brine. Big Papaw guarded its secret like it was weaponized plague, but there is very little you could keep from a shapeshifter’s taste buds. That brine had root beer, paprika, garlic, pepper, and salt in it, and after the pork ribs had soaked in it for at least a day, Papaw threw them on the grill with some hickory wood chips. I could smell it a mile off, two if the wind was stronger, and it made me drool.
The restaurant was located in an old abandoned gas station, with smoke grills in the back, outside. I parked the Jeep in the parking lot—my beastkin feet were smaller than Ascanio’s huge warrior-form paws, so I had to drive—and Ascanio and I went inside.
Colleen, Big Papaw’s oldest daughter, manned the counters. She gave me the evil eye and kept one hand under the counter, which I decided not to hold against her. When two furry, blood-soaked creatures walk into your place, anybody would get alarmed.
I dug in my pants and pulled out two twenties. “Hey, Colleen. We need as many ribs as this will buy.”
Colleen raised her eyebrows. “Do I know you?”
“It’s me, Andrea. You can quit stroking the shotgun now. We’re not a threat to anything except your barbeque.”
Colleen blinked. “Andy? I didn’t know you’re a shapeshifter.”
Neither did anybody else. “Surprise, surprise.”
“We ish harrrmlesh,” Ascanio assured her, smiled, and winked, flashing huge teeth.
Colleen winced, swept my money off the counter, went to the back, and came back carrying a metal pan with three huge slabs of ribs piled on it.
Ascanio grabbed the pan.
“Thanks,” I said. “We’ll eat in the parking lot and bring you the pan once we’re done. Don’t want to alarm your regulars.”
“Much appreciated.”
We headed into the parking lot and sat on the low brick wall surrounding it, with the pan of ribs between us. Ascanio stared at the meat. That’s right. I was the alpha and even the devil child had learned that in the Pack one doesn’t eat until his alpha gives him permission.
I ripped one slab in half and gave him one chunk of it. He took it and tore into the meat, crunching bones. I bit into my ribs, my hyena teeth crushing the soft bone. The sweet taste exploded in my mouth. Mmm. Food. Yummy food. So hungry.
