But he didn’t have time to look further as he squared off with the wolf hybrid. The other werewolf was heading straight for Mother, but he’d have to go through Sammy first. The girl had just dived across the couch to grab the shotgun. Good for her.
Hank engaged the wolf hybrid. A teeth-and-claw fight, but Hank had the size advantage. In close quarters like this, all Hank had to do was pin the thing against the bannister with his bulk. Not a problem assuming the thing didn’t slither away or get lucky and catch a vital organ with its claws.
It didn’t, though Hank felt the pinch of a few good hits. And then the thing was flattened against the bannister. Enough for Hank to—
A human arm slid through baring his army knife. Cecilia flicked her wrist across the thing’s throat, neatly slicing the carotid. Blood flowed freely, and she hopped back with a squeak. Good lord, the woman could slice open a monster’s neck but she squeaked at the blood?
Didn’t matter. Hank was both too grateful and too busy to fully appreciate her foibles. He spun around, this time heading for the wolf. What he saw made his blood run cold.
Mother, still down on the floor. Sammy with the shotgun racked and aimed, her skinny body trembling with the effort it took to face down a werewolf crouching two feet away, teeth showing in a growl and eyes narrowed in fury. He was about to leap and who knew if Sammy could get the shot off in time.
Hank roared. It was the only thing he could do to disrupt the coming disaster. He put his full voice into it as he sprang forward. Except his hurt arm wasn’t as powerful as it should be, so his push was uneven. And there was a damned coffee table in the way fouling his footing.
The werewolf adjusted, his eyes and his mouth glaring at them both. But he didn’t move to attack and for a moment Hank wondered why.
Then he saw.
Three more werewolves came through the window. And a fourth behind that. All creeping in stealthily, one silent paw at a time. Until Cecilia blew out a slow breath and spoke.
“Werewolves in Detroit. We expecting sparkly vampires next?”
He would have snorted if the situation weren’t so dangerous. But then something bizarre happened. One of the wolves at the window—the late arrival if he had to guess—snorted as if he were acknowledging the joke. And when he crawled over the windowsill, the others parted to let him pass.
The alpha? An elder? It looked older than the others from the gray on the muzzle, but it was hard to tell, and Hank wasn’t familiar enough with the werewolf packs to know one from the other. Whomever it was approached Hank with narrowed eyes. The wolves to either side of Gray Muzzle sneered, curling their lips back to show their teeth. One gave a low growl of warning while the other looked like he wanted to raise a leg and piss on Hank.
Let him try. With one swipe, Hank could disembowel him. Or at a minimum make sure the bastard never had children.
But then Gray Muzzle snapped at the other two, silencing them with a single clamp of its jaws. Okay. Clearly, Gray Muzzle was in charge of the wolves here. So what exactly—
“Yeah, you best shut up,” Mother said, her voice weak, but growing stronger as she pushed herself upright. She was bleeding heavily from the shoulder, but her eyes blazed with fury. “Look what you done to my living room. Just look!” She grimaced as she struggled to stand, but apparently got too dizzy. She wobbled on her feet and dropped down onto her couch.
Hank surged forward to help her, but a growl—in unison—from all the wolves stopped his motion. He could do some real damage to those wolves, but it wouldn’t be pretty. And if they worked together, they could hamstring him in seconds and then take him out at their leisure. So he waited and prayed that Gray Muzzle was lucid. And restrained.
Meanwhile, Sammy started to help Mother, but the older woman waved everyone back. “You stay right there, girl. Keep a firm grip on that shotgun just like I taught you.” Then she turned her dark gaze on the wolves.
“I’m Mother to everyone on this block, and that includes you damned foolish wolves. Just look what you done to my home. Smashed my window. Bled all over my rug. And this here was my favorite couch. How many of you have sat right here and eaten my chocolate chip cookies? Crying about some bully or asking me how to talk to some girl? Huh? How many of you?”
Not a one answered. They were in their wolf form, but at least two of them dipped their heads in shame. And still Mother kept going.
“That’s right. I’m Mother, and you destroyed my living room. Now I ask you, what are you going to do about it?”
Silence. Not a single one moved. Then she slapped her hands together in a loud clap.
“I’m talking to you!”
Everyone jolted, but no one wanted to answer. No one, that is, except for Gray Muzzle who walked forward slowly.
Sammy adjusted, moving as if to stand between the wolf and Mother, but Hank puffed out a loud exhalation. The wolves lifted their heads, but the message was for Sammy. She was to stand back and away. She looked at him, met his eyes, and so he shook his head.
With a grimace of distaste, she stepped back and allowed Gray Muzzle to come forward. The wolf walked slowly, respectfully even, until it came face to face with Mother. She stared at it from her seat on her couch. Human eye to wolf eye. Then Mother spoke.
“You got to control your people, Miriam. I told you not to drink the water. I told you—”
Gray Muzzle grumbled, which is when Hank realized that Gray Muzzle was female. And the sounds she was making now were like grumbles of acknowledgment. Like two old women complaining about the stupidity of men over coffee. It wasn’t done in words, but damn if Mother didn’t understand.
“I know they don’t listen, but ain’t there someone in your pack got some sense? That you can talk to?”
Gray Muzzle barked softly and then turned her head. It was a mournful look, especially as it was accompanied by a soft whine. Oh hell. The dead werewolf was—had been—a sane wolf. One who might have listened but probably got the news too late. He’d probably drunk way too much of the tainted water before Gray Muzzle got to him.
