Chapter 5
Hank heard the werewolf coming a split second before the attack. If he hadn’t been so focused on congratulating Sammy for completing her first shift, he might have realized the problem earlier. But the girl had come through the most difficult moment of her young life with flying colors and that deserved a hug. Or at nuzzle, as it were. Which would have been fine if they’d been tucked away in Gladwin and protected by the safety of the largest Michigan pack.
They weren’t. They were right in the middle of werewolf territory and these wolves didn’t like it when the bears came to play. They’d usually tolerate it because urban living meant close quarters, but this wasn’t normal times. The moment the window burst inward, Hank smelled the hybrid stench.
He spun around, his gaze taking in all the details he could in a split second.
A single werewolf had burst in through the large window. Everyone had cringed in the spray of shattered glass. Cecilia was tied to the bannister, dark red lines of blood appearing all over her face and arms. Painful, but not lethal. Sammy was tucked behind him, naked in her human form and completely vulnerable. Fresh from her first shift, she’d be exhausted once the adrenaline wore off. He needed to get some food into her, then she’d probably sleep for days.
Which left the main problem. The werewolf dead center of the living room with his jaws around Mother’s shoulder. Worse, the thing was amped up, probably from drinking the tainted water. It certainly reeked of the hybrid stench though it appeared full wolf. Either way, Hank saw no intelligence in the thing’s eyes. Just vicious aggression.
Mother was screaming in pain and fury. She was trying to struggle, but he had her held fast. If the thing did what was normal for a wolf, it would clamp down and start to shake its head, trying to snap Mother’s neck or at least tear her apart.
Hank leapt before that could happen.
He caught the wolf around the neck, chomping down as hard as he could. He never would have had the chance if the wolf hadn’t had Mother in his mouth. Wolves were a damned sight faster than a bear and ten times as flexible. But Hank had size and strength on his side. Which meant when he clamped on a wolf’s neck—even an amped-up werewolf—he broke or crushed a lot of vital parts.
Blood burst in his mouth like vile hot copper. He tasted the taint and wanted to throw the thing back out of the window as fast as he could. But he didn’t know if Mother was free, so he throttled his natural response. The conflicting urges and the river of blood made him gag, which is a bad thing on a bear. He tossed his head and the wolf landed big and ugly on Mother’s favorite couch.
Worse, she went with it. Stumbling sideways as she fell from the dead wolf’s mouth.
But this time, Hank didn’t allow himself to be distracted. A quick scan of Mother showed she was alive and not spurting blood. That was all that was important right now as he spun to the shattered front window.
The night air was pouring through and Hank smelled what was coming. Damn it. What was already here.
Two hybrids climbed in the window, their eyes yellow with hatred and a stench that made Hank’s gagging reflex work overtime. In the background, he heard Sammy scream, “Mother!” as she surged forward. But more gratifying still was Cecilia’s bellow.
“Hank! Look out!”
She was warning him of the hybrids. He didn’t need her words, but they were satisfying nonetheless. And in a distant portion of his brain, he cataloged the ramifications of her words. She’d called him Hank, so she knew him even in his bear form. She called out a warning, so she’d kept her wits. And best of all, she was afraid for him. That warmed him, but he didn’t have time to think of it beyond noting the detail and even that was tucked way in the back of his mind.
The hybrids didn’t spare a glance for their fallen wolf. Even if he hadn’t seen the madness in their eyes that alone told him they were too far gone to recover. Even the darkest of men noted a fallen comrade and wolves were pack creatures. They could no more ignore a fallen pack mate than they could stop their heart from beating.
So he attacked.
Despite appearances, he hadn’t done a lot of fighting as a bear. The military had trained him in human combat and medicine. But that was enough. He took the nearest hybrid first, slamming his massive bulk into it so fast the thing was barely able to snarl through the wolf mouth before it was thrown back out the window. The other hybrid was harder. At least the first had a full wolf face without any humanity in it. The other looked fully human—a man in his thirties—except for the body fur, sharp claws for hands, and curved bearlike ears, plus a hint of a muzzle. Hell, this guy was a bear hybrid, but his hands and mouth were already covered with blood. He’d been feasting on something and it hadn’t been kibble.
Worse, he was going for Cecilia, and fuck, he was fast.
Hank saw Cecilia coil tightly, her hands gripping the bannister as her knees tucked into her chest. She was going to kick that thing, but she didn’t realize what his claws would do to her legs. Or her face. And Hank was across the room, too far away to save her.
He leapt as fast as he could, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Fortunately, it was all he needed. The hybrid was distracted by the sudden approach of a big black bear. He twisted his head and extended his claws. But he had already been moving toward Cecilia, which meant he was close enough for her to strike. She kicked him with both feet straight in the face.
Great shot!
The thing’s head snapped back, though it would take more than that single blow to keep him away. But now Hank was in position to help. First things first, he swiped at the zip ties that bound her, neatly slicing them in half.
She was free. Hopefully, she’d stay around to help, but at the moment, he wouldn’t fault her for hightailing it out of here. Sadly, the precision required to free her had slowed him down. He hadn’t wanted to accidentally slit her wrists, so he’d had to concentrate. Which gave the bear hybrid an opening.
He attacked with all the strength in his amped-up claws. Hank felt the bite of those razor-sharp things in his upper arm. The thick bear fur wasn’t enough to keep them from digging in and slicing. But it also brought the hybrid in close enough for Hank’s mouth.
He swung his head around and bit down on the first thing he caught. His teeth scraped against skull and tore through…he didn’t want to know what. Tainted copper blood poured into his mouth again, but he didn’t stop. He had to end this because the first hybrid was coming back in the window. As well as another werewolf.
Shit.
The hybrid went limp in his mouth. Dead.
He threw him away, sadly unable to slam him into the oncoming hybrid. The damned thing was too heavy, and he was trying to keep track of all the details. Specifics like where Cecilia was going as she slid behind him. And how badly was Mother hurt? She hadn’t moved when normally the woman would be racking her shotgun.
