Simon’s hand reached for Kate’s bandolier across his chest and pulled a canister that Penny had brought from her shop. He checked to ensure Charlotte was clear of his target area, then he threw it with deadly accuracy at the left tunnel. It exploded in a puff of sparkling dust that rose in the air and coated the walls and everything inside the tunnel with a fine powder of special silver nitrate.
The werewolves that touched it roared in agony, falling to the ground writhing or running blindly, desperate to get away from the silver flakes that seemed to burrow under their skin. The mad creatures stumbled into Malcolm’s path and the hunter was quick to deliver their ends.
Penny stood with him, having quickly reloaded her pistol. She fired into one werewolf that slipped past Malcolm. It was blind in one eye, and she efficiently ruined the other. With a scream of agony, one clawed hand struck her hard on the shoulder, near her neck. Her weapon suddenly dangled from nerveless fingers as she went down to her knees.
Malcolm was there, standing over her with both his pistols, firing multiple times until the beast dropped dead. Penny offered up a brave, wry grin at her savior.
“Damn foolish, girl,” he scolded her.
Her expression fell. “How do you think I feel? Taken out by a blind werewolf.”
“Can you stand?” He offered her his forearm, still holding on to his pistol.
“Of course.” Penny struggled to her feet, her face contorted in pain. She cradled her injured limb.
“Is it broken?”
“Afraid so. I’m disarmed.”
Malcolm’s wild laugh echoed in the chaotic tunnels.
A bolt of heat made them duck their heads as Nick let loose a blast of fire into the tunnel behind them. The tunnel lit up with an orange glow and warmed considerably. A smoke cloud of burning fur and flesh billowed at the ceiling.
“Reinforcements!” he shouted, his hands aflame.
“Coat it!” Simon tossed him a canister. “Charlotte! To me!”
Nick snatched the cylinder out of the air and in one fluid motion flung it into the tunnel as the small grey werewolf darted past him to Simon’s side. The canister spewed a thick cloud and gave that tunnel a silvery sheen in the flickering light. Two panicked werewolves fled the contaminated tunnel straight into Hogarth’s cruel mace, which slammed into the skull of one, sending it careening into the other. They went down in a tangle of limbs.
The uninjured one, nearly the size of Gretta herself, bellowed its rage, spraying bloody spittle. Hogarth was drawing back for another blow, but the huge thing grabbed the manservant in its cruel claws, digging deep into his flesh.
Nick shouted and ran toward Hogarth. He struck twice with hands aflame, once across the arm that held the manservant and another across the beast’s throat. It seared the exposed flesh, but the massive werewolf would not loosen its hold. Nick pulled back, aiming for its cold heart, but the werewolf raised its other arm, claws extended.
Simon appeared, blocking the blow aimed for Nick. He drove his sword deep into the creature’s stomach. It roared in agony but continued to crush Hogarth’s middle. Runic light flared around Simon as he used his free hand to wrench claws from the manservant. He pulled the fingers back with an audible crack.
Growling furiously, the werewolf raised its free arm to deal with Simon, but Nick seized it. The monster’s broad head swiveled toward him. It would only take a single snap from that mouth to take Nick’s head. Simon released the claw to grab the beast’s snout. The werewolf shook itself violently, but Simon would not relent. He took hold of the jaws and started hissing an old spell between his lips. A flash of light shone out from under his torn collar, illuminating them all. Simon was slowly wrenching the beast’s head away from Nick. The creature growled and released Hogarth, still trying to shake off Simon’s death grip. Hogarth slid to the ground, holding his ribs.
The werewolf slashed at Simon, but he ignored it, putting all his concentration into his effort. His own howl echoed the werewolf’s. With a final mighty heave, the beast’s neck snapped with a sickening crunch. The gigantic werewolf seized in a spasm and fell limp next to Hogarth. The flames on Nick’s hands flickered out.
Simon stood panting, the rush of the aether saturating him. A frantic Nick grabbed him, yanking open his tattered coat to check the blood flow from his wounds.
“Just scratches,” Simon said.
“I don’t think so.”
Simon shrugged off his ministrations and turned toward Hogarth. “Are you okay?”
Hogarth nodded, but his arms were wrapped tight about his bleeding chest.
Malcolm emerged from one of the silver-treated tunnels and stood bloody, with steaming guns in hand. Penny leaned unsteadily against the archway and Charlotte crouched across the chamber. Monstrous bodies lay in piles around them. Some of the first killed were already transforming to humans, either naked or covered in rags. Limbs flickered in death throes. Malcolm set about dispatching a few twitching creatures with shots to their hairy heads.
Penny groaned and looked away. Charlotte slipped behind a column and let her beastly form fade. She clutched at the rags that barely covered her sad, naked form.