THE MAGIC HIT ONE MILE FROM THE OFFICE. THE Jeep’s gasoline engine faltered and died and I guided it to a slow stop at the curb.
The worry that had sat in the pit of my stomach since the phone call grew stronger and stronger until it blossomed into full-blown anxiety. Something was wrong; I felt it.
The kids were fine. They were in a fortified office. They had a full-grown bouda with them.
Reinforcements were on the way.
I stared at the wheel. It would take me fifteen minutes to chant the water engine into life.
They were fine.
Screw it.
I jumped out of the car, locked it, and took off down the street at an easy jog. My knee protested, sending a warning spike of pain into my thigh with every step. A nagging ache gnawed at my ribs. It was a good kick, but in retrospect I should’ve punched him instead.
The streets rolled by. I was doing a seven-minute mile. Still faster than warming up the car. I turned onto Jeremiah, passing a couple of delivery trucks, blocking most of the street. Not too far now.
Something lay in the street in front of the office. Something small and wrapped in fabric.
My heart hammered. I sped up.
A child mannequin rested on the pavement, swaddled in a grimy sweater. Blood stained its clothes and plastic face.
The door of the office stood ajar. Ice rolled down my spine.
I pulled Slayer from its sheath and forced myself to slow down. I’d need my breath. The door was intact. Someone had opened it. I tested it with my fingertips and it swung, revealing the office. My desk lay on its side, a flurry of papers scattered on the floor. Red stained the wood, where someone’s bloody hand had gripped it.
A nude body sprawled on the floor on my right. It lay on its back in a puddle of blood, its chest a forest of bone shards where someone had wrenched ribs out of their place. Male. A hole marred his neck and left shoulder. Something had bitten him with preternatural teeth. The head was a mess of blood and battered tissue. A chair leg protruded from the stomach, where someone had pinned the corpse to the floor like a butterfly.
I approached the body, sword ready, and saw a shock of spiky black hair on the right side of the corpse’s skull. Joey.
An enraged growl shook the office. Something clanged, once, twice, a ringing of metal being struck.
I dashed to the back.
The door to the back room lay in shards on the floor. I leaped over it. A section of the wall had been ripped open, and through the gap I saw a female shapeshifter in warrior form. Huge, at least seven feet and sheathed with beige fur with dark spots, she was all claws and teeth, pounding the loup cage with the rest of the chair. Tufts of black hair crowned her monstrous ears. A lynx.
The pieces snapped together in my head. Leslie, the missing render that Curran had been hunting.
Inside the cage, a bouda in warrior form cradled something, shielding it with his body. Deep gashes scoured his back, marked with thick bloody smears. The shape in his arms trembled. Two legs stuck out, deformed and twisted. Muscle bulged in odd places, sheathed by human skin and patches of beige fur.
Leslie saw me and froze.
Ascanio turned and I glimpsed the thing he was trying to protect. A horrible face gaped at me, its lower jaw protruding, its face like a blob of melting wax, the eyes little more than tiny slits. It was the face victims of Lyc-V wore when the shapeshifter virus first infected their bodies.
The small brown eyes looked at me from the monster’s face. Julie. Oh my God, Julie.
Leslie was trying to murder the kids.
I charged.
Leslie roared and hurled the shattered chair at me. I dodged and stabbed her in the chest, aiming for her heart. Slayer slid off the ribs—I’d punctured her lung instead. Like poking a normal human with a needle. Claws raked my shoulder. I sliced across her stomach. She leaned back and kicked out with both feet. I saw the kick but there was no way to avoid it. The blow took me square in the chest. I flew into the main room, curling into a ball. My back slammed into the wall. The world swam.
Leslie leaped at me through the gap, claws raised, giant teeth snapping.
I dodged. She hit the wall full speed and whipped around, carving the air, her claws like daggers. I dodged, left, left, right. She swung too wide and I lunged into the opening, turning Slayer into a metal whirlwind. Left thigh, side, right thigh, left shoulder, chest . . .
She snarled and backhanded me. I’ve been hit with a hammer. It hurt less. My head snapped back and she raked at me with her other hand. Pain cleaved my stomach. I stumbled back.
Blood filled my mouth. Leslie bled from a dozen places, but not enough to slow her down. She was fast, Lyc-V was healing her cuts, and my sword wasn’t doing enough damage.
I kicked at her. She hammered a fist into my thigh. I swayed at the last moment and the fist grazed me. My femur screamed from the impact. She was aiming for my injured knee. I drove Slayer into her liver.
Leslie screeched and roared, “Die alrrready!”
I cleaved at her right arm, severing the tendon. Unless I won, the kids died. I would kill this bitch. I’d tear her limb from limb if I had to.
She grabbed at me with her left hand, clenching my shoulder, lifting me off the ground, and jerked me to her teeth. I pulled my throwing knife and stabbed her in the throat, quick, like hammering a nail. She gurgled, tore me off, and hurled me aside.
I hit Andrea’s desk with my back, dropped to my feet, and started toward her. I hurt so much, the pain kept me from passing out.
Leslie grabbed a filing cabinet and hurled it at me. I dodged. She threw a chair. I ducked and kept coming. Leslie heaved a bookshelf. It would hit me; I had no place to go.
A black dog the size of a pony burst through the doorway. Grendel, you stupid magic poodle.
The dog hit Leslie in the chest like a battering ram. The render went down, knocked off her feet by the impact. I ran at Leslie. This was my chance.
Leslie clenched Grendel by the scruff of his neck and flung him aside. He crashed into the wall with a snarl.
Leslie leaped to her feet and bared her teeth at me. Blood dripped from between her fangs, stretching in long red threads to the floor.