Episode Thirteen: Hunted: Scene 23

My cell phone rang. Mike’s tone, but when I answered it, I got nothing but the sounds of commotion. “Great. Mike’s in a fight.”

Thruor nodded. “Grab your sword and helmet, let’s go back him up.”

I could have sworn the bike wasn’t parked outside when I came in, and probably it wasn’t. It wasn’t like it was incapable of moving on its own, after all.

I hopped onto the bitch seat and Thruor, eyes narrowed, rode into the night.

“You can track him, right?”

“The amount of time we’ve spent together, it’s easy.”

I wondered. If Mike died in a fight, would Thruor take him to Valhalla? I suspected she would. And he would probably appreciate it, too. He liked the idea of being a warrior for justice. So did I, for that matter. “Good.”

He wasn’t that far away, and the trouble was, thankfully, neither Surtur nor Tyz’vel. It was…werewolves?

“Might have known. I don’t have any silver bullets.”

Thruor laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I forgot it was a full moon tonight, but we don’t need silver to chase them off.”

I drew my sword and ran towards the nearest of the wolves, who started to back off, snarling.

“That’s it, doggy, run home.”

Mike wasn’t shooting, probably because he was out of ammunition. Thruor had already moved to shield him. I tried to distract the wolves. One of them did run, but a second leapt at me.

I met it with the blade. I was fairly sure I was immune to lycanthropy, but I didn’t exactly know for sure. So, I wasn’t about to risk being bitten.

Werewolves. Thruor had implied that we didn’t need or even want to kill them, but I’d slashed that one’s throat open.

It was already healing. Silver. I needed silver, but I swung the blade around again, slicing into a paw. “I said go home.”

It ran, limping, away into the dark. Thruor was a whirl of sword and feet, and they were running. “How did that happen?” she asked Mike.

“I was dumb and failed to tell the difference between a wolf and a dog.”

She laughed. “You did not try to put a leash on a werewolf.”

Poor Mike looked utterly shamefaced.

“I take it…”

“Werewolves don’t hunt humans and consider biting anyone who isn’t willing to be worse than rape. But if he tried to put a collar on one…”

I was not going to laugh. I was absolutely not going to laugh. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

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