But continued, unafraid in the face of his building aggression. “You came right to me, your poor red-blood Avó, worried how the theft would affect me, and made sure to tell Tantie and all the humans. But never said a word about the theft to any of your pack directly—instead, you had Tantie do it. Didn’t you? You told the red-bloods because we can’t tell when you are lying.” Avó pointed a finger at him.“Well, most of us.”
All eyes were on Ranalf now, and his shift undulated beneath his skin with each outraged surge of emotions. He was so close to losing control, Sophie numbly wondered why no one was more worried.
“Who sold my brother to you? Was it Katya? What did you do to him? What could he do for you? Nothing! And what about these children? What does a shifter need innocent blood for?”Sophie demanded, surprising herself as she spoke up.
“Innocent blood to call a god, and sex to feed her. You worm-eating, mother-fucking cunt-bastard.” Micah accused. “Why? You’re the big alpha. You own this area. I conceded. You’re the man of the people.”
“You’re still alive, Micah. Isn’t that a good enough reason? I think it’s a great fucking reason. You interfere in my plans and get in the way all the time. You won’t be my ally, so I found a better one. What’s wrong with that?” He played to the crowd, opening his arms wide.
“What’s wrong with that? The Morghanna is no one’s ally. She requires a sacrifice for everything. You know that!”
“That was then. Apocalypse Day changed her. The vampir are leaking their stench into our territory. With her help, we could wipe them out. They stink of the grave already. Why not give them a permanent one? Why let them have the best of Old City while we scrabble and scavenge?” Ranalf asked the people, trying to win back the support he’d so obviously lost in the past few minutes as his secrets were exposed.
“Poetic irony, don’t you think? Using the vampir’s own slaves to bring them down,”
“That wasn’t enough blood though, was it? Blood to wake her, but she’s themerrowfertility goddess. She hates the vampir, but she won’t destroy them for free. She does nothing for free. The Morghanna needs bloodand sex—but you already know what happens if you fuck her, don’t you, asshole? Who’d you send in your place? Are any of them still alive?”
Micah scanned the gathered people, looking through the crowd. “Who isn’t here? Avó, where is José? Where is Alexander? Tantie, where is your son? Is he here? I haven’t seen him around for weeks.” Micah squeezed Sophie’s shoulder and stepped into the open area in front of Avó.
It was a circle, Sophie realized. For a fight.
Because Avó knew they would fight. It was all too much. It was all she could do to keep herself together, to stay seated in that chair when she wanted to rage and cry and run away.
Tantie was crying, backing away from Ranalf and dragging her daughter with her.
“He sent them on a resource run to Kansas to find replacement gasoline and farm animals–chickens, ducks, pigs–things we could keep in our yards and old garages. My brother, my son, his own beta, his friend, the shifters, they were going together because it was for all of us, the pack and the community. Where are they? What did you do?”
Micah stripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, prepping for his shift, Sophie realized. “But I don’t see that greedy bitch. She’s not here to save you now, is she? Did she back out of your bargain, Ranalf? After all the Morghanna did to me, all her treachery before, did you think she would keep promises to you? Think you were special? I knew you were a fool. But I never realized what an absolute piece of shit you are.”
“You are the weak fool. Not me.” Ranalf exploded out of his human skin and into his wolf form. The move happened with unexpected speed, pushing back the surrounding shifters, who were all as shocked as Sophie. The brindle-colored beast shot forward at Micah, landing the first punch and slashing claws across his belly.
Sophie’s heart leapt to her throat. She felt Micah’s fall in the soles of her feet as the two men crashed together. Due to her upbringing with vampir, she was no stranger to violence, but this was so raw and violent, unlike anything she’d ever seen.
The air smelled of burnt hair, and ozone magic seared her nasal passages, but she couldn’t figure out why. This wasn’t shifter smell. This was something else. She wrinkled her nose and looked hastily around, seeking the source. There were no sorcerers here, and Avó stood right next to her. Shifters weren’t magic and didn’t like magic. -Was it coming from the crowd? She couldn’t tell. Magic was everywhere. Her head rang with activated protection wards and shield spells.
“How did he do that?” Avó asked the open air before them, wonder in her voice.
Sophie had no answer. She didn’t understand what she was seeing. The explosion of Ranalf’s shift happened in less than a blink. His clothes shredded along with his human skin, all the jewelry he wore snapped under the pressure of his change except for the ugly necklace of bones.
Ranalf had drawn first blood, and Micah hadn’t been able to call his shift yet. A cheat, a scandal, even she knew that. Her every instinct told her that Micah was the stronger shifter, yet Ranalf changed faster and hit harder.
They rolled in a flurry of limbs, blood spilling onto Avó’s lawn. At seven-something feet of hairy muscle, claws, and dangerous teeth, Ranalf’s beast had the advantage on Micah’s skin.
“Micah can’t shiftandfight. I’ve never seen Ranalf shift so fast. He’s never been able to do that,” Avó mused.
Micah pulled his legs up and kicked out. He needed space and time to finish changing form, but Ranalf’s ferocious attacks kept coming.
Pinning Micah down by his shoulders, Ranalf snapped at Micah’s neck, aiming for the kill. Hands-free, Micah punched Ranalf in the throat. The blows landed hard enough to make Ranalf sputter and pull back, but Micah grabbed one of Ranalf’s long pointed ears, braced his legs against Ranalf’s body and kicked.
Ranalf went flying over the heads of his pack into the trunk of the oak tree. Hitting it hard, the crack of impact vibrated through the air above the onlookers.
One of the oil lamps crashed and fell from the branches as Ranalf landed, scattering people along with a shower of leaves and all kinds of little folk. Sophie thought she saw brownies, winged pixies, and blue-bloods she had no name for clamoring for safety.
Ranalf climbed to his feet, leaning awkwardly to one side, his head lolling on his shoulders. Like gunshots, she heard another series of cracks and pops and realized it was him realigning and healing broken bones. His head snapped into place, and he growled furiously. With hardly a pause, the shifter shoved people out of his way to get back to the battle.
“Impossible,” Avó said.
Micah hadn’t hesitated, taking advantage of the few minutes Ranalf was indisposed to start his shift in a hail of–wet skin-splitting noises and cracking bones. He was fast. But Ranalf was faster.
