On the bright side, the four people he was trying to protect were already on their way out of the area. He simply had to give them more time.
As if reading his mind, Tamm and the other supernatural split off, like they both intended to go after the kids, their grandfather, and the deputy, forcing Hale to make a choice on which one of them he’d have to stop.
Dropping the near-empty magazine, Hale loaded a fresh one and then turned to the second supernatural, firing the entire thirty rounds into the man’s chest at almost point-blank range. The supernatural flew backward with a roar that was unlike anything Hale had ever heard, the eerie sound echoing through the forest.
Hale didn’t wait to see how much of an effect it had on the man but instead spun around and charged straight at Tamm, raising his now-empty weapon like a club. It was dangerous—and probably stupid—but it was all he could think to do atthe moment. He needed to give the four people behind him a little more time.
Tamm definitely wasn’t ready for an all-out physical attack, but he recovered quickly, getting off a few shots before Hale closed the distance between them. One of the bullets missed, but the other got him in the stomach. The pain was like a white-hot poker as it tore through him, but then it was out, and the pain immediately began to recede.
Growling, Hale attempted to bring the butt of his M4 up to smash it into Tamm’s face, only to have the guy grab the weapon out of his hands and throw it across the clearing. Before he could even think about reaching for his sidearm, Tamm planted his large foot in his chest, sending Hale flying backward through the air.
A second later, Hale smashed through a dense, scrubby tree covered in smokey-pink flowers, the thick branches crunching and cracking under his weight. He’d barely come to a stop, a snapped off limb digging painfully into his back, before Tamm was charging toward him, clearly planning to finish him off.
Going for the nearest thing that could be used as a weapon, Hale scrambled to his feet, scooping up a three-foot length of tree branch and swinging it at Tamm’s face with all his might. He didn’t expect much, so he was surprised when the supernatural reared back from the impact, roaring in agony, blood running down his chin.
Huh. Apparently bludgeoning these guys with a stick worked better than shooting them, Hale thought.
Overhead, the helicopter flew by again, momentarily distracting both of them.
Tamm recovered first, ripping the branch out of Hale’s hands and chucking it so high in the air it almost seemed like it was going to hit the helicopter. The pilot swerved to the side before moving back into position so the cameraman could keep filming the action.
Tamm kicked Hale in the chest again, shoving him backward to put some distance between them, then bringing up his weapon, finger on the trigger. The man snarled something, and Hale swore he heard the wordlupine. That couldn’t be good.
Hale dove to the side, barely avoiding the burst of automatic weapon fire aimed at his head. Rolling on the ground, he came up with a roundhouse kick, snapping his right foot at Tamm’s weapon and sending it flying into the bushes. The urge to shift was hard to ignore, even though he already knew that claws wouldn’t hurt the guy. Then again, his handgun probably wouldn’t either.
Of course, wolfing out with a news helicopter hovering overhead would probably be frowned upon by Gage and the rest of the Pack. So with his trusty tree branch out of reach, that left his handgun as the only option.
Hale had just reached it when a crashing sound to the left reminded him that he and Tamm weren’t the only two supernaturals in the clearing. He jerked his head around in time to see the second guy barreling toward him, weapon in hand.
From the corner of his eye, Hale saw Tamm drawing his own handgun, and he knew he was screwed before the first round was even fired. He’d barely been able to handle one of these supernaturals, even with his M4. Facing two with a handgun and unable to shift? This part of the fight would be over before it started.
Then a blur of movement crossed the clearing, intercepting Tamm’s buddy. The supernatural tumbled to the ground as a vivid flash of light lit up the surrounding trees, immediately followed by the shrieking sound of metal being torn apart. It took Hale a second to figure out that something had sliced the man’s assault rifle in half. A moment later, the air filled with the scent of lilac blossoms.
Karissa is here?
Then he saw her, standing among the trees behind Tamm, a wicked smile on her face, her long leather duster fanned out around her in the breeze.
“Funny meeting you here,” she said, looking at Hale. “Need some help? Again?”
Before he could come up with something witty to say in return, Tamm turned toward Karissa, lifting his pistol in her direction.
Hale was halfway across the clearing before he even realized he was moving. He slammed into the supernatural so hard that he could hear bones crack. Hale ignored the pain in his shoulder, focusing on getting the gun out of Tamm’s hands and stopping him from ever hurting the woman that he was sure now was his soul mate. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
Once the handgun was out of the equation, the fight degraded into a savage bare-knuckle brawl, Hale punching Tamm over and over again as hard as he could. The supernatural barely seemed fazed by anything Hale was doing, returning as good as he got. It probably didn’t help that Hale kept trying to look over his shoulder to see what Karissa was doing, more worried about her getting hurt than anything Tamm might do to him. His lack of focus earned him a broken nose, but it was worth it.
Hale’s battle with Tamm carried him back and forth across the clearing, the helicopter overhead keeping them in view. He had no idea how long he was going to be able to keep this up, since it seemed clear that Tamm was getting the upper hand. Werewolves could take a lot of punishment, but they could be severely hurt—unlike Tamm, who seemed impervious to anything Hale tried outside of that one time he’d slammed a branch into the guy’s face. Hale even tried to replicate the attackwith another tree branch. But for some reason, it didn’t do a damn thing this time.
From the corner of his eye, Hale could tell that Karissa’s glowing sword seemed to be doing a lot more damage. But while the hunter she was fighting was bleeding from more than a dozen wounds, he wasn’t slowing down a bit. It was like he enjoyed the pain.
And then, like a silent alarm had gone off, the two supernaturals abruptly disengaged from the fight at the exact same time. Then, just as suddenly, they both turned and bolted off through the forest, moving fast.
“Should we go after them?” Karissa asked from beside Hale, looking like she’d been having way too much fun.
“Why bother?” he said. “Even if we caught up with them, all we’d be able to do is fight them to another stalemate. Unless you have another one of those swords hidden somewhere on you that I can use.”
“Afraid not,” she said.
Karissa turned to look at him, her eyes going wide in alarm as she got a look at his freshly broken nose and the lacerations on his face. She reached out like she was going to cup his jaw only to pull back as the helicopter buzzed in even lower, the wind from the rotors swishing the branches of the pine trees, showering them with needles.
