The choice was made for her when the rectangular window of the bar, facing the street, blew wide open, shattering glass everywhere, spraying the shards across the room.
Wanda came tumbling in like some freakish gymnast on steroids, nailing her landing and making it stick, before she ran after Andre, grabbing him by the neck.
Bullets began to fly in all directions from Stas’s men, whizzing around the air like deadly flies, all aimed at Wanda.
That was when Cormac burst from the booth, his mouth wide open as he roared his rage. His neck bulged, his fists still behind his back, but he broke the restraints without missing a beat.
Oh God. He was going to shift. He was upset and angry and those emotions had fueled a shift.
She had to stop him or risk his being discovered by people passing by.
“No, Cormac! No!” she screamed while bullets flew. She attempted to free herself from Dennis, but he was too damn strong.
Dennis howled before he threw her to the ground with such force, she was sure she was going to have another cracked rib.
Which made her mad as hell. Goddamn it, hadn’t she been knocked around enough? What the fuck was with the manhandling her these days? Every time she turned around, someone was kicking her ass, and she’d had enough.
But the outraged roar from Cormac set her into motion. His bones crunched, shifted, twisted until he was forced forward to his haunches, almost knocking what was left of his human chin on the ground.
“Cormac, no!” she screamed once more, but he was too far gone and as he fully shifted. His deep black coat shimmering under the bar lights, he headed straight for Dennis, his gaze deadlocked.
She caught the surprise in Stas’s eyes when Cormac took shape, no longer cool and unruffled, and clearly shocked that Cormac was now one of them. He’d been smart to keep that hidden for as long as he had while he was huddled in the booth.
He was impressive in bear shift, enormous, wide, solid, a deep almost ebony. His coat was healthy and shiny, his paws easily ten inches wide, his hump, the muscle between their shoulder blades they used to dig, was mammoth.
But he’d never withstand a beating from seasoned vets like Andre and Stas.
They’d kill him. If she was sure of nothing else, she was sure, in comparison to bears who’d shifted all their lives, Cormac was weak.
Dennis, who had no time to react and shift himself, began to shoot in wild arcs.
Marty, who’d shifted now, too, howled, long and eerily pitched, the sound whipping around the room and hitting Teddy’s eardrums at every angle. Marty lunged for Dennis, successfully knocking the gun out of his hand, but she crashed into the side of the bar, taking some stools and a man or two with her. The impact left her unmoving on the floor.
And that was when it turned into werewolf versus bear.
Howls roared through the bar, making it quake as the shift took over Stas’s men. The floor crunching beneath bear paws to the tune of broken glass.
Cormac changed direction and stalked two of Stas’s men, tearing after them with a loud roar.
Carmine Ragusi, weenie that he was, came around the corner, witnessed the rampage, and huddled in a ball, sliding down the wall, his eyes wide, his stout body quivering.
Andre shifted right in Wanda’s clutches, his clothes blowing off his body and his teeth, sharp and gleaming, sprouting forth in the low light of the bar.
He went for Wanda’s neck, but she managed to hold him off by grabbing his snout and flipping him to the ground, breaking one of the cocktail tables, the wood splintering and flying.
And then she shifted, too, with a piercing wail full of anger. She went for Andre like a rabid animal, rushing him as he reared upward before falling on his back and crushing a portion of the bar.
Darnell bellowed from under the table where he’d hidden earlier, “Teddy! Look out!”
Teddy scrambled on the floor, turning just in time to see Dennis racing toward her, his eyes wild with a year’s worth of hatred. As his legs pumped, he began to melt, his clothes falling away, his body distorting until he, too, was in bear shift. His enormous head loomed closer and closer. The sound of his paws pounding on the floor, over glass, over bodies scattered from one end of the big room to the other, resonated in her ears.
In that moment, that paralyzing, heart-pounding moment, she froze.
He was going to kill her. He’d win. He’d succeed in finishing what he’d started.
All the ugly words and cruel jaunts raced through her mind. A year’s worth of healing and fighting her way back into shape would be for nothing.
She was nothing. He’d said she was nothing. A no one. And now, he’d win.
Helplessness swarmed her, invaded her, took hold of her, shaking her to her core.
You’re nothing, Teddy!
No! Nonono!
Anger welled, rising up, shoving its way through all the ugly words, the cruel taunts, and a surge of anguish catapulted her to shift. Rage fueled her rapid change, her bones jolted, cracked, realigned—and then she roared.
A roar of raw fury, an ear-shattering screech of a declaration.