“All made by you though.”
Penny shrugged with humility. “We also got a reputation for crafting rare devices. And we acquired patrons of a unique nature such as Simon and Malcolm. If it weren’t for that shop, we would have been on the streets. I haven’t been able to make Charles walk, yet.” Penny grinned with a maker’s fire. “But he’s never been more alive and determined because he has hope. It will be the same for Imogen. She’ll find a way back to you.” Penny held open the hemp bag for Kate.
For the first time in a long while, Kate felt rejuvenated. Her tread was lighter and her quick cuts at the ghostbloom stems weren’t from anger but with promise. The last ones were placed in the bag and the two women rose, dusting the dirt from their clothes. That’s when Kate noticed one of the surrounding shadows shift. Then another.
“We have company,” she told Penny. Kate calmly undid one button on her jacket to reveal a military bandolier underneath that held an assortment of crystal vials. She plucked one out and held it tight in her hand. Penny quickly pulled a pistol.
Inhuman yellow eyes stared through the veil of night. Seven dark shapes rose on animal hind legs so that they stood over eight feet tall. Their fur was matted and filthy. The low rumble of angry snarls and discontented grunting permeated the graveyard. They twitched and shuddered like opium eaters deprived of their lotus. Their features were wild with hunger and rage. They spread out around the two women.
The largest of them stalked forward, its fur as dark as the night. “Where is she?” it ground out in a barely intelligible growl.
Kate pulled another vial from her bandolier. “Where is who?”
“The little one who betrayed us.” Bestial eyes darted left and right. “The one who fought against us.”
Realization dawned on Kate. They were talking about Charlotte. This was a remnant of Gretta’s old pack, or what was left of them after Malcolm’s merciless hunting.
“I don’t know who you mean.”
“Give her to us.” The great nostrils flared. “I can smell her on you.”
“If that’s the case, you should also smell my steadfast determination to oblige you nothing.”
Penny stepped up behind Kate so their shoulders were near to touching, covering Kate’s back, her weapon trained on the other hulking shapes lurching through the tombstones.
The black beast’s whole body twitched with a violent spasm, either rage or a seizure. The others in the pack whined, fighting off their own muscular tremors, and the leader growled at them until their complaining ceased. Then the dark werewolf’s molten gaze found Kate again.
“This is your death sentence,” it snarled.
“Or yours.” Kate flung a vial toward the leader. The glass shattered at its feet and it tried to run, but a gush of black liquid spread over the ground, also catching another of the pack that stood close. The black treacle held them fast, matting their fur with a glistening sheen.
Penny shot a werewolf that leapt at her over a crooked monument. It tumbled dead to the ground.
“Switch,” Kate shouted.
Penny swapped places with her. Not needing to reload as her pistol was a small prototype of Malcolm’s quad-barrel Lancasters, her second shot took another werewolf in midbound.
Kate tossed her second vial to a werewolf on her left. The vial smashed against its chest, a gaseous cloud settled on the beast, and it fell gasping on the ground, where Penny shot it. The pack broke apart in the confusion of the onslaught.
Kate drew her other weapons. With a swift motion, a pistol swung to a werewolf rushing her and a lead ball struck it in the chest. It shuddered and swerved away, dropping to all fours in an effort to get past her. In her other hand flashed a steel blade and she stabbed deep with her short sword, slipping in between the ribs straight to the heart. It collapsed atop a grave.
Penny’s hand now held a small silver sphere about the size of a cricket ball and she threw it straight into another werewolf. The ball exploded and silver dust draped over the beast, who howled and flung itself backward, clawed hands slapping its burning flesh.