“Impossible,” I breathe. Except, not really. My magic backfired on me every time. “Mother saw me steal the Dragon’s Breath from Sybaris. She warded her creatures against it, and wards always corrupt my magic. That’s why the fire turned on me.”
Griffin’s big body coils tight, ready to shield me from anything. “That’s possible?” he asks.
“Apparently. I’ve never heard of it happening to anyone else. I’m special, I guess.”
He grunts. I guess he agrees.
The lead wolf flashes its fangs, and I pull away from Griffin to stand on my own, drawing two knives from my belt. I can’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not ever.
But my head still swims, and my vision isn’t quite right. My grip around my knives feels foreign and feeble. Blood drips onto my upper lip, and I wipe the back of my hand under my nose, my blade glinting dully. In the red streak, I see only the faintest shimmer of gold.
How I envy my Olympian ancestors their near indestructibleness. I’m so destructible that I have no idea how I’m even going to throw a knife in this fight.
CHAPTER 9
KATO THROWS TWO KNIVES. BOTH LAND IN THE LEADcreature’s chest. Without even a flinch, it bares yellowed fangs and leaps at him from eight feet away.
Kato pivots and kicks, snapping his leg to catch the catapulting wolf in the head. It thuds into the even larger creature charging alongside it, and the two beasts hit the ground together, rolling and snarling in a tangle.
The third creature lunges for Carver. In a lightning-fast move, Carver springs to the side and slices it from shoulder to tail. The gash runs the length of the monster’s body, deep enough to reveal flashes of bone. It skids to a stop, crouching low on its front legs with a growl. Raised skin sweeps down its spine, puckering where its fur should be.
The savagery in the creature’s eyes makes my head spin. The wound Carver inflicted closes within seconds, leaving the pseudo wolf’s side smeared with a black liquid thicker than blood. A putrid odor hits my nose, and I shrink back from the awful smell.
Carver attacks, and while the creature is distracted, Flynn rushes in and sinks his short sword nearly to the hilt in its barrel-like chest. The deep thrust must have gone through something vital, but the injury doesn’t even slow it down. Utterly unfazed, the creature pushes, working its wayupthe blade to get its jaws closer to Flynn’s throat. Black liquid oozes from the new wound, carrying more of the rotten stench. Flynn’s arm muscles bulge as he grips his sword and leans away.
“Decapitate! Decapitate!” I shout. Decapitation is the one way to kill just about anything, even a God.
Carver’s blade flashes, but the other two beasts attack. Every last one of us shouts a warning, and he whirls, swinging out of instinct and hitting the massive body leaping through the air. He severs both front feet from the creature’s body and then ducks as it sails over his head, dripping noxious fluids from the severed stumps.
Kato deflects the third wolf with a swing that should have crushed its skull. It somehow evades, taking the bone-crunching head of Kato’s mace on the shoulder instead. Short metal spikes rip through sallow skin, and the fetid odor intensifies. We all gag as if punched in the throat by it. I cover my mouth and nose and look at Griffin. His eyes water. Other than that, he’s perfectly still, watchful, but I can tell he’s twitching on the inside, torn between jumping into the fight and standing guard over me.
With a nightmarish howl, the downed wolf springs back ontoall four feetand charges Carver again.
Good Gods. Regeneration.
Griffin’s large hand splays across my chest, and he pushes me behind him.
“It grew back its feet!” Carver fends off a ferocious attack, his blade whip-fast.
Kato pulls out another knife as he and the third creature circle in a wary dance. He throws well from the right now, but he’s rarely accurate with his left hand. He’ll only be able to use the dagger or his mace in close quarters, and I don’t want the wolf-abomination getting that close to him again.
I step to the side of Griffin and take aim. My tired arm locks as the muscles near my shoulder catch in a painful spasm. I don’t have a consistent clear line with Kato between the creature and me, and for the first time in years, I’m not confident I’ll hit my mark.
Gingerly, I lower my arm. “Griffin. You do it.”
He switches his sword to his left hand and then unsheathes his only short blade. His throw is beautiful, steady and strong. The knife sticks between the wolf’s eyes.
The beast swings feral, glowing eyes on us and laughs. It’s grating and animalistic, but I could swear it laughs.
Flynn utters a strained grunt. The creature has wormed its way so far up his blade it’s almost on top of him now.
Griffin starts forward, but Carver whirls out of his confrontation and, with one sharp, downward slash, tries to sever the impaled wolf’s head from its body. The beast jerks back at the last possible second, pushing on powerful forelegs to slide off Flynn’s blade. The two swords meet with a jarring, metallic clang. There’s the high-pitched, scraping ring of steel on steel as Carver twists back around, leaving Flynn to deal with the beast that just slipped from his blade.
With a fiendish growl, the monster races past Flynn and heads straight for Griffin and me. The one Kato was keeping at bay takes its cue from the other and darts around the blond warrior. The two hairless creatures converge, and my pulse hammers as they barrel toward us.
Griffin’s sword crashes into the underside of the closest wolf’s neck and sticks, not severing it. His shoulders tense, and it takes a powerful yank to get his weapon free. The creature readies for another attack almost immediately, alarmingly unaffected by the damage Griffin inflicted.
The second creature circles wide to avoid Griffin and then jumps on me. Its massive front paws slam into my leather-clad chest, shoving me back. I cross my daggers and push, catching the base of the monster’s elongated jaw between the blades. My arms shake as I work the knives into the softer skin of the neck. Inches away, the beast’s saliva-strung mouth opens, and its stinking exhale breaks like a rancid wave over my face.
