“Found one of Marion’s associates,” Jaime said grimly, jerking his chin toward a man in a volunteer vest near the storage area. “He was the one who swapped the bottles.”
A security guard stood beside him, mid-question. The man followed Jaime’s line of sight and saw us staring back. Panic broke across his face. He ran.
I took three steps, then shifted mid-run. By now, it didn’t matter if I turned. I was more effective in my wolf form.
Fur ripped free as my wolf hit the grass at full speed. The crowd screamed, scattering as I streaked past.
The volunteer made it ten feet. I slammed into him and sent him sprawling. He shrieked as I snapped my jaws inches from his throat.
“Don’t,” Jaime said calmly, appearing beside us. “We need him conscious.”
I growled but backed off as security rushed in.
“Bag it,” Jaime told them, pointing at the discarded bottles near the storage area. “That’s your poison. Check the fingerprints.”
The man sobbed, shaking. “He said it would just make them sick.”
Jaime crouched in front of him, eyes cold. “You almost killed them.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. I turned, scanning the grounds, heart still pounding. This wasn’t over. We still needed to find Marion. I searched the crowd again.
Jaime followed my gaze as my focus snapped sharp and feral.
I inhaled again, deeper this time, letting the noise of the grounds fade. Beneath the smell of dogs and panic, there it was. Marion.
My head turned before my thoughts caught up, eyes locking on a retreating figure slipping between vendor tents, moving fast.
“Chris,” Jaime said.
Marion glanced back once. That was his mistake. He ran, and so did I.
My paws burned as I vaulted barriers, shoved past startled handlers, tracked him by scent alone as it burned like a bright thread through the chaos.
He knocked over a stand. I leapt it. He veered toward the service exit. I cut him off.
“Stop!” someone yelled. Maybe security, or maybe Jaime.
Marion burst through the back gate anyway, boots slapping against pavement as he bolted across the service lane. He was fast for a human, adrenaline giving him borrowed speed, but fear has a taste.
And he was drowning in it.
I tackled him hard, driving him into the asphalt. He screamed as my weight crushed the air from his lungs. My claws came down around his collar, vision bleeding gold at the edges.
I wanted to tear him apart, but I didn’t.
Sirens wailed closer now. Footsteps thundered behind me.
“Chris!” Jaime’s voice cut through the red haze. “That’s enough.”
I froze, chest heaving. Marion sobbed beneath me, shaking so hard his teeth rattled.
Slowly, painfully, I pulled my claws back. Security swarmed in seconds, hauling Marion away as he shouted denials that unraveled into hysteria. Someone slapped cuffs on him.
Another officer read him his rights. The noise rushed back in all at once.
Cheers broke out behind us, fragile at first, then growing as handlers realized the danger was over. Dogs barked, tails wagging, blissfully unaware of how close they’d come.
I barely heard any of it. Jaime stood a few steps away. His eyes were sharp, burning with adrenaline and something else I felt echo inside my own chest.
