I stepped forward and planted my foot, aiming for my heel to hit near the handle. Wood exploded under impact in a sharp, splintering crack that turned the silence into a jagged thing. The door swung open, and the room answered.
At the center of the bedroom, a tall man with slicked-back hair and neon-green eyes that had a faint glow was huddled together with just the man we were looking for, Frank. Their arms were stretched out like they had passed something between each other.
Frank was the first to react, snarling at the intrusion. “Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out!”
Smiling like I didn't hear him, I stepped in further. As soon as I did that, Zeth and Nick entered behind me. The green-eyed man’s eyes bounced around, his pulse skyrocketing before his gaze went to the window behind him. It took just a second for him to look at us, then he bolted for the window. Glass crashed to the floor before I could get my first word out.
“Get him!”
Zeth and Nick burst forward, both of them jumping out the window like shadows unhooked from the wall, going after our now second lead. I turned to face the target.
“Hello, Frank,” I called out, hands open wide as I stepped toward him. “I have some questions for you.” He gulped, gripping something inside of his jacket. “This might sound a little old fashioned, but… we can do this the easy way,” I cracked my knuckles, “or the hard way. Your call.”
His face twisted, lips curling in rage. “Who the fuck are you, bitch?!”
I stopped for a second, forgetting I still had on the cloaking spell, and Frank lunged. His full weight slammed me to the floor, the impact cracking through my spine and knocking the air from my lungs. My claws burst free on instinct, raking deep into his back until I felt the tug of tearing skin and warm, slippery liquid beneath my nails. His roar rattled the walls, raw and furious.
Dragging one hand away, I shoved my other hand into his side, claws slicing through muscle like butter. I twisted my hand inside of him until I felt something give. “What the fuck are you doing, Frank? Who was he?”
He swung for my face, but I tilted just enough that his fist met hardwood instead. Throwing his weight to the side, he rolled away from me, staggering to get up while clutching his bleeding side. The wound had already started to knit itself closed, red threads drawing together. I pushed to my knees, chest heaving.
“None of your business, bitch,” he spat, voice cracking.
“Wrong answer.”
I thumbed the cloaking spell off, and his fury stuttered, collapsing into dread the second my real face surfaced. Fuck, I loved moments like that, when the break between rage and realization settled in, and they finally understood exactlywhothey’d picked a fight with. The scent of fear always followed close behind, sour and sharp.
Licking at my claws as I stared him down, my bloodied mouth curved into a deceptively soft smile. “Now, tell me, Frank… what were you two talking about?”
Faint laughter carried from the hall. Conrad. I could hear his smooth, calm tone. “Oh, don’t worry about the noise. Probably a couple having a great time. I wouldn't mind having some of those wall-shaking times myself, am I right?”
Good. He was keeping people away. My grin stretched wider right before Frank bolted for the window.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
I leapt, bones shifting midair, fur bursting along my limbs. My wolf hit the floor in front of him, lips curled, growl rumbling from deep in my chest. He froze, then jerked the hand from his jacket. A gleam caught the low light, thin, deadly. A knife.
“I–I’m not g-going to let him use me,” he stammered, trembling. “Not l-letting him use m-my body. It’s m-me or y-you. So l-let’s go, b-bitch.”
His words snagged in my mind.Use his body?Before I could ask, a faint shimmer rippled across the blade, catching my eye. Magic was carved into that blade. I took a careful step back.
“That’s right!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “He told me to… c-convince you to talk, then k-kill you with this!” Sweat poured down his temples, his skin waxy, eyes fluttering every which way. This man wasn't scared of me; he was scared of someone else. Thishimhe was talking about.
He lunged for me, almost catching my side before I jumped back. I needed fucking answers, which meant I couldn’t kill him. Looking down at his hands again, I sniffed the air. I couldn't smell any elemental magic enhancements, which meant it was spellwork I didn’t recognize.
We circled each other, his breath hitching and my claws flexing into the hardwood. Every twitch of his wrist, every flick of his gaze, I watched for my opening. I only needed one. When a faint voice echoed down the hall, his eyes flicked toward the sound. That was when I lunged.
He moved faster than I expected, but instead of trying to slice me up, he threw it at me. Unable to dodge it fully, it sliced up my inner thigh.
White-hot agony tore through me, followed by a pain unlike anything I’d ever known.
The damn knife felt like itbitinto me.
My wolf screamed inside my skull, a sound that was halfway strangled to silence as she was shoved back then ripped away from me. My wolf body shifted mid-leap. Flesh, not fur, hit the floor.
The world tilted, colors too bright, sound too sharp. My thigh pulsed wet beneath my palm, and I gripped the wound as hard as I could until my hands began to shake, blood slipping between my fingers. The cut was deep, main artery deep, and it wasn’t closing.
It wasn’t fucking closing.That was not good.
