Page 36 of A Drop of Anguish
Jimmy smiles cruelly. “Her screams will soon echo through these tunnels. Every wolf in the school will know that she is mine now.”
“The way I see it,” Thompson rocks back on his heels, oozing arrogance, “it will be your blood decorating the stones. Your screams of rage making the entire schoollaugh.”
All four wolves jerk forward in reaction to his words. My heart leaps, blood running cold, but they don’t attack—yet. Adrenaline pumps through my veins.
Keep your cool, I tell myself. My mind is my best weapon now.
I hold my first chosen potion. A tiny blue vial. Then, I wait for the wolves to make their first move.
It doesn’t take long. Thompson shifts into a defensive stance and holds out both hands, fingers splayed at his sides. His nails grow into sharp points.
One of the shifters growls.
The next several things happen so fast and are so surreal that I can barely register them. In a series of jerks, flashes, and cracks, all five boys shift into massive wolves of varying colors.
Two of the wolves lunge at the pitch-black wolf I know to be Thompson. The other two head for me.
Snarls and snaps and flying furalmostdistract me from my first planned move. But before any of the wolves can reach me, I throw my tiny blue vial against the stone wall. It shatters, and the whole hall is filled withshrieking.
The blasting sounds bouncing and echoing over the stone is painful even to my ears. All five wolves—one of which was less than a foot from reaching me—drop to their bellies and howl in pain.
I thought the noise amplifier was a pointless potion, but then I realized wolves have impressively sensitive hearing. This is going to hurt like hell for the next ten minutes. It worked even better than I expected.
Sorry, Thompson.
There’s a path past the wolves, wide open, with them cowering in pain. Next potion in hand, I sprint toward my freedom.
A paw clips my ankle, and I slam to the ground. The breath rushes out of my lungs, black peppers my vision, but I scramble up to my knees. I cry out when claws dig into my thigh, pulling me back. A grey wolf stands over me. His ears are back, but he’s no longer immobilized by the sound amplifier.
His rancid hot breath blows into my face as he snarls. Drool drips onto my neck.Ew.
Growls and whimpers alert me that the other wolves have restarted their fight.
Now, it’s my turn.
As I reel back, I realize what’s going to happen, and yet I don’t hesitate because it must be done. I aim for the side of the wolf’s chest because when the potion inevitably drops to me, at least it won’t hit my face.
With all of my strength, I slam the stupidly thick vial into the wolf’s chest and do my best to twist out of the way—I hope.
The vial shatters. The red liquid sloshes all over my hand sending raging pain all the way up my arm. An instant later, that same pain hits my hip.
The wolf and I cry out in unison.
My whole body shutters, muscles tensing and pulsing like one terrible charley horse. For moments, I can’t think beyond the agonizing pain.
The weight of my attacker is gone, though, and I roll to the side. The waves of pain begin to recede. The wolf remains crumpled in a ball, only a soft whining to suggest he’s at least somewhat conscious.
Well, my potion worked.
The bulk hit the wolf, but my body is still aching, and my head is still pounding.
Thompson is fighting a brown wolf. Another lies on its side against the wall, breathing fast and making no attempt at getting up. Thompson downed one. I’ve downed one.
Where’s the last one?
A quiet growl behind me answers my question. I grab another stunning potion and spin to face the red wolf.
He crouches low, baring his teeth.
