The only thing running through my mind on the way down was that wolves hated to swim, but I didn’t. And I was good at it. I could use being in the water to my advantage.
When we were fully submerged, I wasted no time wrapping my legs around Sean’s middle and twisting both of us, making sure he was beneath me so I could pop to the surface for a quick breath. The water here was fairly deep, and that worked in my favor. Sean weighed three times more than I did, as wolves were heavy, their body mass much denser than any human of comparable size. So he sank while I was relatively buoyant.
He didn’t stay beneath me for long. I stole a breath as he broke out of my grasp and shot to the surface. He stopped only to grab a fistful of my hair, enough to yank me back under again. Damn hair.
Sean was taller than I was, and I didn’t want to run the risk of him touching bottom and gaining the advantage, so I started swimming with all my strength underwater. He had me by the hair, but I turned my lower body at a sharp angle and used my legs to capture him around the waist again. Then I used my free arms to stroke us both backward, deeper into the lake. I didn’t get very far before his other hand found my neck and gave a good squeeze.
Shit. But before he could figure out the best choke hold, I unclasped my legs from his middle, rushed my feet up to his abdomen, and kicked him fiercely. He flung backward in the water, his grip on my neck and hair releasing as he ripped away from me.
I darted to the surface, not wasting any time to catch a breath. Sean came up ten feet from me and immediately lunged for me again. When Sean’s fist came out of the water as he took a stroke, I saw another flash. That boy had produced a second knife. Unbelievable. This one was much smaller, the kind most guys wore on their belts—we did live in the backwoods—but the compact size didn’t matter; it was still capable of cutting a chunk out of me or slitting my neck.
I noted another important fact as his head came out of the water; his irises were full yellow. If I could keep him angry enough, I might be able to force him to shift. Wolves needed a place to drop and change, and by the looks of it, if Sean didn’t get ahold of himself, he was going to start a shift without his consent. Losing control of a shift was rare, but Sean was a hot-tempered human, so in turn, he was a hot-tempered wolf. I’d never heard of a werewolf drowning, but if he started his change, it would give me time to make it back to shore alive. The key was to keep riling him up.
I thrust myself backward, up and out of the water, with a giant kick and a flap of my arms. I had to stay one step ahead of him now. “Taking the…pansy way out…huh, Sean?” I panted. Kick. “A knife…again? What…? No room for…a gun in…your pocket?” It was hard to taunt and swim at the same time, but I was managing. Kick. “Werewolves…don’t use weapons…remember? You guys are”—stroke—“supposed to be…macho. Weapons are beneath you… They’re too…human.” Arm push. “Everyone’s…going to be talking about you…” Gasp. Stroke. “How you needed a * knife…because you couldn’t kick my ass…yourself.”
“Shut up,” he growled, almost within reach. His canines had lengthened enough to jut between his lips. I pushed out once more in a last-ditch attempt to put more space between us. “You’re going to die now. I’m going to see it done.”
“Not if I can help it,” I panted as I swam backward. I kept the banter going while I still could. “All your cronies…are going to be talking about it…Sean. It’ll be the hot topic of conversation. The…only topic. How you had to use…a weapon instead of your strength…to best a…female.”
“Nobody is going to talk, bitch, because I’m going to be the one who finally kills you. I’ll be a hero. Nobody’s going to care in the end how the job was done, only that it’s finished.” He took a big stroke toward me.
“Nope, you won’t be a hero, because you’ll be…dead.” I gasped for air, my arms starting to falter as exhaustion crept into my limbs, my wounds from the previous night aching in earnest. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping me in the game. “Why can’t you boys get that through…your thick skulls? My father…is going to kill…you.”
The knife stabbed down in front of me, a hairbreadth away from my face. Water splashed as I dove under, kicking deep. Once I was down far enough, I twisted my body in a circle, searching for his feet. Once I spotted them, I swam over and yanked hard. Gravity worked in my favor, and he plunged down. I let go and swam backward underwater. Unfortunately, he wasn’t giving up or dying of water inhalation just yet. He turned to face me in the murky green darkness, his yellow, glowing eyes looking creepy underwater. I aligned myself in front of him as he swam forward and brought my body up so I was horizontal, my knees bent. When he got close enough, I shot my feet into his oncoming fists, hoping to dislodge the offensive knife still in his grasp.