I’m deadly to any living thing right now.
Including the Vandawolf.
And now comes the choice that will cost me.
With exaggerated movements, I move my left hand toward my right bicep, as if I’m about to press the medallion from my hand onto my arm and command it to become an armband once more. After that, I would only have to lever both medallions off my right arm, allow them to drop to the earth and, once they’re no longer in contact with my body, they will sleep once more.
But that is not my intention.
My weight is toward the Vandawolf. I’m already positioned at his head. In reaching for my bicep, my right arm has lowered near to his left shoulder—the one that’s dug into the muck.
Up on the wall, the men behind the harpoon, net, and chains are watching me closely, but they’ve leaned back a little, visibly relaxing. Not completely, but enough.
I suppose they’re so accustomed to seeing me obey commands that they don’t even consider that I might be feigning compliance.
It will take them seconds to realign their weapons, which will give me the time I need.
My right hand snakes out and snaps around the Vandawolf’s shoulder, my fingernails scraping through the blood and ash on his skin as I wrench him upward and to the left with all my strength. I’m in danger of dislocating his shoulder, but I can’t worry about that right now.
The muscles in my legs were already bunched, giving me the momentum I need to heave him up and out of the muck. I lift him high enough off the ground that the bolt’s tip comes unstuck, although the bolt itself remains embedded in his chest.
Within seconds, I’m dragging him as fast as I can, plowing backward, more than aware that gravity could push the bolt further down through him, but I don’t intend to keep him raised that long.
My destination is the stone monolith five paces to my left: a giant wolf that rose from the ash in the wasteland only a short time ago this morning, and now rests, chest to the ground, facing outward from the wall.
The Vandawolf and I fought it while it was still alive and I turned it to stone.
There’s safety and shelter in front of it.
Up on the wall, the men have snapped to attention, their weapons jolting as they attempt to follow my movements.
Braddock, Nero, and Vincent are all shouting at once, their commands a jumble of sound.
“Stop her!”
“Kill her!”
“Shoot the bitch!”
I want to scream out my rage at them, but I don’t make a sound, channeling all of my energy into pulling the Vandawolf with one hand across the sludge, desperately keeping my left fist safely clenched at my side.
I can’t touch him with it. Not while the medallion is wrapped around it. It was with this hand that I turned the giant wolf from living flesh to a stone monolith. I did it with a single thought, and I can’t risk the damage I could do to the Vandawolf.
If I had more time, I would remove the medallion, but I’m conscious that it’s my greatest defense against the weapons that will split the air and cleave and crush me when they fire.
The monolith is so close. The brightness of the sunlight shining around it is a bitter sight since I might not reach it in time.
The Vandawolf is tall and heavily muscled, and even with the enhanced strength that my tools give me, I’m struggling.
Three paces. Two?—
Crack!
The sound of the harpoon’s firing mechanism chills my blood.
The shrieking whistle of air around the barbed spear is amplified in my ears.
In that second, my instincts tell me that the men have shot wide of me, but not wide of the Vandawolf.
