“And you always will, unless you want me to fix that.”
Harlow sighed. “Do you really want us to use them?”
Foxx blinked. “Of course?”
He was completely serious. Where in his tone had it been implied that he’d been joking? Also, they were cute, chubby little boxy things… He needed them.
“Fine,” the dhampir sighed. “I’ll buy them for you.”
He beamed. “And you'll use it?”
Harlow rolled his eyes. “AndI'lluse it.”
The dhampir reached into his jacket, no doubt to pull out his wallet…but that was as far as he got as the sound of multiple people screaming had them both tensing. They shared a brief glance before the chaos started.
Screams of fear growing in number and volume, soon mixed with the sounds of growls, though those were still a distanceaway. People started running past them, coming from the other end of the fair. As they ran, pushing and shoving their way through, things and people fell all around them.
He and Harlow took off as well, except they went against the tide, moving towards the danger. Foxx just traveled in the direction that he smelled blood.
Stumbling to a stop as they burst through the mob, this side of the festival was trashed. Booths toppled, tents collapsed, carvings, food, and more were trampled and destroyed. The destruction seemed to be endless.
Dead center of all the destruction were six werewolves in their bipedal forms, their spittle an odd brownish color. They stood there crouched, their jaws clamped around their victims as they shook their heads violently from side to side. Blood flew everywhere as it clung to their fur.
Foxx took a deep breath in and cursed at what he smelled.
“They…” Harlow hesitated.
“You’re smelling Santiago, aren’t you?”
“I am…but they aren’t him.”
“No…but they are part of his pack. It’s common for wolves to carry their Alpha’s scent.”
“Wasn’t he planning to take them into hiding?” Harlow asked with a frown.
“He was…” Foxx went quiet as six pairs of eyes suddenly peered their way.
“You don’t have your guns with you…do you?” the dhampir asked, having already pulled his out.
Foxx winced. “No…”
“Fucking hell.” Harlow cursed right as the wolves lunged.
Toppling over, Harlow managed to lodge his foot between him and the werewolf as he went down, preventing its claws from reaching him. He aimed and took a shot. Beyond belief, the thing kept coming. Two more bullets later and the wolf finally became a dead weight. Shoving hard with his foot, the body flew off him.
Rolling to avoid the claws of a new wolf, he fired off another round of shots into a second one before jumping back to his feet. But as he reloaded and was about to engage, his attention was caught on Foxx. Harlow watched with a heated gaze as the vampire issued a series of furious swipes with his claws, decapitating a werewolf in a glorious spray of blood and flesh.
Shouting out when searing, burning pain suddenly spread throughout his back, Harlow dropped one gun, spinning in time to catch the wrist of the werewolf who had just sliced up his back. Clamping down, he twisted around, snapping the bone as he yanked the wolf off balance against him.
“Get fucked,” Harlow growled as he pressed his gun to its head and empty his clip, the creature’s blood splattering on his face when its skull burst open.
He let go of the corpse. As he didn't hear anymore werewolf heartbeats, he didn’t bother looking around. Instead, he let loose a string of curses as he reached back and pulled his shredded jacket and shirt away from his damaged skin. Harlow cursed again on finding that they not only shredded his jacket and shirt, but sliced through the leather sheath for his sword, and cut his chest holster.
Foxx let out a whistle. “That’s…going to be a bitch to heal.”
Harlow flinched away when the vampire’s fingers brushed lightly against his back.
“I was just going to check how deep it was… You may need stitches.”
