He blurred as he raced forwards. I dove out of the way, rolled and popped back up to my feet. He crashed into me taking me back to the ground. I grunted as I landed, his weight coming down on top of me and pinning my legs.
I twisted, using my legs to tilt my pelvis up so I could roll him off me. He collapsed his upper body onto mine, making it impossible to get the leverage I needed. The guy was strong, and it had been a couple of years since I’d last tried this move.
“Nice try. I give you an A for effort.” His grin was slightly feral.
I elbowed him in the face, grinning happily when he looked back down at me with a bloody lip. How was that for effort?
His tongue darted out to catch a drop of blood, and his eyes turned husky blue.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to bloody him up.
A low-pitched growl from our right distracted both of us. A big dog slunk out of the shadows. He looked like a husky but was the size of a mastiff.
“That’s a dog, right?” I asked.
Brax snarled, his lip lifting to expose a mouth full of fangs. The dog crept closer, his eyes trained on us with strings of drool dripping from his fangs.
“I thought dogs were afraid of werewolves,” I whispered.
“That’s not a dog.”
Brax jackknifed up, dragging me behind him.
“What do you mean it’s not a dog?”
He didn’t spare me a glance. “I mean it’s not a dog.”
“Then what is it.”
“Werewolf.”
Werewolf. I looked back at the beast. It was a lot bigger than any wolf I’d ever seen at the zoo. Bulkier and taller too. His fur was dark brown on top and faded to a creamy white around his legs. He would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been for the bald patches and bloody wounds all over his body.
The car was still several blocks from here. I didn’t think I could outrun the wolf.
“I thought you were an alpha. Don’t wolves have to listen to the alpha?”
“They do have to listen to the alpha.” His voice was deep and still managed to sound angry.
“Tell him to go away.”
“I would, but he’s not listening.”
“What do you mean he’s not listening? Try again.”
We backed down the street as the wolf steadily advanced.
“I have been trying. There’s something wrong with him. He’s not listening to cues.” It sounded like he was talking to himself more than me. “He shouldn’t be challenging me like this. All of his instincts should be telling him to run.”
That was not ideal. I reached for the silver knife in my belt.
“Is silver as effective on wolves as fiction says?” I asked.
He didn’t take his eyes off the advancing threat to see what I was doing.
“Yes.”
That was good.
