Not yet. That would have been too quick.
Kensley jumped to her feet. Her eyes went right, then left, looking for an escape.
Akela and Whiskey emerged from the brush. Whiskey’s golden eyes glowed, catching the last rays of daylight. Akela’slips trembled in the beginning of a snarl. He showed his fangs, long and white.
Kensley’s eyes went wide. There it was. Fear. Delicious, sweet fear.
Be afraid, Kensley. Be more afraid.
The wolves took a step. Another.
Diana could see the calculation in her eyes. Two wolves or one human.
Kensley charged her, aiming to knock her off-balance. Diana met her halfway. Her hand closed on Kensley’s neck and she fell backward, planting her right foot just above the assassin’s hip. Kensley’s momentum carried her up and over. Her back slammed the ground. The air burst out of Kensley’s mouth.
For a fraction of a second, they were both on their backs, heads toward each other. Diana flipped over, her hands on the ground, her feet digging into the gravel, as if she were a sprinter crouched in the starting position. She surged forward, looming over Kensley. She knew exactly what the other woman saw: her face, shadowed in twilight, her teeth bared, and her eyes glowing with eerie, golden magic. The color of the glow shifted depending on its intensity, green when her power was a trickle, yellow when it was a river, and right now she was all in.
Kensley sucked in a hoarse breath and Diana slapped her across the face. The blow knocked Kensley to the side. A little harder, and she could have broken her neck.
Not yet.
Kensley scrambled to her feet and leaped as Whiskey bit the air an inch from her thigh. The assassin spun around, her eyes wild and drowning in terror.
There it was, the scent of true fear, spiced with adrenaline, flavored with cold sweat, accented with a rapid heartbeat. Diana let it wash over her and drank it in. Akela raised his gorgeoushead and howled, singing a long blood-curdling song that promised pain and death.
“It wasn’t personal,” Kensley stammered. “It was just a job.”
Diana tilted her head, watching her. There was a gap between Diana and Whiskey, ten feet of clear space that led to the slope down the hill. It was Kensley’s only chance.
“It wasn’t?—”
Kensley charged, her hand swinging in a punch, aiming at Diana’s face. A distraction, designed to force her to shy back, opening the way to escape.
Diana caught Kensley’s wrist, pulled her forward and hammered a vicious sidekick into the assassin’s ribs.
Bone crunched.
Diana let go, and Kensley staggered back, clutching her side with a whimper. Her first deep breath would be pure agony, and the pain on her face was intoxicating.
Diana stalked toward her.
Kensley spun, trying to run, but Diana was faster. Grasping her shoulder and pulling her backwards while sweeping her legs out from under her was child’s play. Kensley’s back hit the ground, and Diana landed on top of her, her knee resting on the exact spot her foot had connected with.
Kensley howled, a scream ragged with pain.
Diana pulled her knife.
The assassin’s eyes focused on the blade. She struck at Diana, aiming for her throat. Diana knocked the blow aside, pinned her arm to the ground, and thrust the knife into her shoulder joint.
Another hoarse scream. Kensley’s right arm was a useless lump of human flesh. Diana raised her knife.
“Adrian Woodward!” Kensley groaned. “It was Woodward. He wanted the creature. He wants to make a construct out of it. He was very specific. It needed to be alive and delivered today,because he is flying in this evening. He’s going to kill it tonight to see what’s inside it. He needs to know how it works.”
Diana gripped Kensley’s throat.
“Canyon Lake,” Kensley croaked. “Compound. I can show you… It wasn’t personal. Just a job.”
“You hurt my family. You killed. You stole. You made orphans.” The magic sang in Diana’s voice, ancient like the howl of a wolf and the snarl of a panther.
