She couldn’t bear the idea of all that strength and power obliterated. She couldn’t do nothing, even if it meant her own death.
With a shake of her body, she shifted again, felt herself grow. The power swelled in her limbs, and the world took on a crimson haze. She threw back her head and howled to the moon. Then she leaped toward the fighting group.
She’d never been in a fight, rarely shifted into her hellhound form, having learned from an early age that it wasn’t the best of ways to make friends. Now a sense of freedom filled her as she made a giant leap and hurled herself into the first demon, her jaws snapping closed on the flesh of his shoulder, her mouth filling with the sweet, metallic taste of blood. She tossed him away and looked for the next.
Except the fight had stopped.
Carl lay crumpled on the sand, not moving, but the demons were backing away. One studied her for a moment and then gave a small nod. “Princess,” he murmured. Then he made some sort of gesture to the others, and, in a flash, they all vanished. Not even a puff of smoke left behind.
Princess? What in the freaking Abyss had that been about? Mistaken identity?
They could easily have killed her and Carl both. But time to worry later. She glanced down the beach. The altercation had been silent except for her one howl, and people would take that for a dog. She hoped.
Shifting to human form, she dropped to her knees beside Carl, touched a finger to his throat. A faint pulse throbbed beneath her fingertip. All the adrenaline seeped from her system, and her shoulders sagged, her head bowed.
She’d accepted death, and now had to come back from that dark place. It was strange—she’d believed she would die at the end of her month of freedom, but now she realized she hadn’t really accepted or understood that. It was one thing to die in the heat of a fight, another to just accept death and let it happen, when you knew you could stop it. For the first time she acknowledged that perhaps she wasn’t ready to die. But neither was she ready to go back to that old life. Or a new one that was worse.
She sat back on her heels and stared at the unconscious man. Without thinking, her hand came out and, she traced a finger over his lips. The upper lip was narrow, but the lower had a sensual curve and was soft, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he would kiss.
Never going to happen.
She should get out of there before he woke up, but somehow couldn’t make herself move. Instead she continued her exploration—she’d never had the opportunity to touch another person like this, and she was fascinated by the different textures.
She skimmed a fingertip over his eyelashes then his cheekbones, where the skin was rough and shadowed with growth. Peering lower, she gasped. His shirt was dark and had hidden the blood, but when she looked closer, it was clear he was badly injured. Werewolves were tough, but demon wounds could be dodgy things to heal.
Could she leave him here? What if the demons came back? What if he bled to death?
He moaned.
She couldn’t leave anyone in pain. Anything could happen to him.
God, she was pathetic. Why not just admit it? She wanted to take him home with her. She didn’t want this to end. And maybe, after she’d saved his life, he would owe her and wouldn’t force her to go back. Perhaps he’d even help her, maybe put in a good word for her with Asmodai.
She rested a trembling hand on his shoulder, the material sticky with blood, and gave him a little shake.
“Carl.”
She held her breath, but there was no response, and no way could she carry him. Maybe in her hellhound form she could drag him, but that would be a little conspicuous. She gritted her teeth and shook him again.
He groaned, and his lashes fluttered open. “What the fuck?”
She released the air in her lungs with a huge sigh. Thank God. “You’re hurt,” she said.
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I came back, and they…vanished.”
His gaze met hers. “You came back? I told you to run.”
He’d wanted to save her, and warmth spread through her at the thought. Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I don’t always do what I’m told.”
“Well, it was fucking stupid…but thank you. Who the hell were those things?”
“Soldiers I think, but I don’t know whose. Whoever they are, they might be back, so we need to get away from here.”
He placed his palms on the sand and tried to push up. After a second, he collapsed again. His eyes flickered shut, and her chest tightened.
After what seemed an age, he opened them. “Shit. I need to shift. But I need to be somewhere safe first. This badly damaged, I’ll go into a healing sleep, and I don’t want to be out in the open.”
“Then you’d better get up. My place is only ten minutes along the beach. You can make it. I’ll help you.”
“You’re a real softie aren’t you, kitten? Behind that bitch facade.”