Page 30 of Shift of Destiny
“Shoot!” Pruhon screamed, reinforcing it with an alpha command, and an undertone of panic.
Another shot rang out. Moira’s magic flared again and stayed strong.
“Fuck! The light—I’m blind!” shouted the voice.
“Give me that, you idiot,” said another voice. “Dad should have never given you that Ageless Assassin game.”
“No! Get your own fucking gun.” Sounds of a scuffle ensued.
Pruhon struggled to sink sharp canines into Chance’s muzzle, so he bit down harder on Pruhon’s shoulder, even though the putrid-tasting flesh threatened to gag him. The wolf’s hind claws painfully raked Chance’s belly, drawing blood.
Moira’s voice rang out of nowhere. “Chance! He’s got something small with stolen alpha power.”
Chance forced the wolf to the ground with brute strength and put a serving-platter-sized paw on the wolf’s ribs to hold him down. Chance blocked out all his beast’s senses for a moment to locate the tiny magic pulse of power near the wolf’s right hip.
Pruhon started twisting and squirming, and broadcast a desperate, vicious psychic blast that once might have felled a whole pack.Die!
Chance let the command roll on by and used his claws to flay open the wolf’s flank. An impossibly clean pink gem gleamed where it sat embedded in the flesh. He dug it out with a claw and batted it away from the wolf’s body.
The life essence that was Pruhon faded like the morning mist. His body began shriveling and aging at an incredible rate. The flesh caught in Chance’s jaws sloughed away like a mouthful of decaying autumn leaves.
He backed away slowly, watching the body become a dry husk that disintegrated and began drifting away in the cool mountain breeze.
“Huh.”
He turned to see his mate and his truck materialize before him, like a special effect on TV. Moira watched the last of the late alpha’s dust fly away, then turned to look at him. He stood stock still as she looked him over from head to tail. His nose worked to draw in the complex scent of his mate that held no hint of fear.
She frowned when her eyes lit on his stomach, where the wolf’s claws had torn his skin loose. “Will shifting heal that?”
He hesitated, then nodded his big head once. So far, she hadn’t reacted badly to him, but maybe she was just in shock. Even wolf, cougar, and grizzly shifters found him hard to be around.
She sighed and gave him a tired smile. “Then do it, you big looby, so you can kiss me and tell me everything’s going to be all right.” She pointed to the east with her thumb. “Besides, we have to call the sheriff and figure out how to get the Witzer wonder twins out of the neighbor’s tree.”
* * *
Outside of that one kiss and the too-short moment when he got to cherish her in his embrace, they were frustratingly never alone again.
Shepherd showed up just as Chance and Moira found a ladder. Moira’s eyes grew round as she realized the eight-foot-tall hulk shaped like rocks on legs, with a grotesque face, was actually the helpful man from the garage.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t seeing what was in front of me before. I’m going to have to figure out who everyone is again.”
“That’s okay. It’s nice to be seen for what I am.” He patted Chance on the shoulder. “I was worried about you. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Shepherd easily extricated Adam and Zed Witzer from the tall blue spruce, where they’d managed to get themselves hopelessly tangled in high-tech climber’s rope. When questioned, they spilled everything. They’d agreed to help Pruhon capture and sell Moira if he agreed to change them into werewolves. As wolves, they’d be more powerful than their dad, and selling Moira would not only deprive him of something he wanted badly, it would make them rich. Their orders had been to shoot the truck’s tires and engine, not Moira. After all, she was the merchandise.
Shepherd called the sheriff’s office, and the dispatcher asked them to take their prisoners to the high school gym, where the occasional town hall meetings were held. Fortunately, Adam’s errant shots had only gouged the body of Chance’s truck, rather than hitting anything vital. Shepherd and Chance loaded the trussed-up twins into the back, and Chance and Moira drove them to the school. Chance had taken charge of the twins’ rifle, which had dropped during their scuffle, and now had it safely secured in the pickup.
When they got there, a deputy sheriff named Shiloh handcuffed the Witzer boys and sent them off with a wolf-shifter officer to lock them in a patrol car. Chance and Moira followed Shiloh through the halls and gave him the Cliff Notes version of what had happened that night.
In the gym, nearly a hundred men and women sat on the wood floor, arms and legs secured with zip ties. Astonishingly, most wore silver jumpsuits, and some had metallic blue and green makeup on their faces. Except for the mix of irritated and glum expressions, and the number of pissed off fairies keeping watch, they could have been extras in a no-budget science-fiction movie.
“What the hell?” asked Moira, just beating Chance to the same question.
Shiloh laughed, displaying his permanently pointed coyote teeth. “I know, right? Some dimwitted outsider named Witzer thought he could get away with stealing psychics from Kotoyeesinay. He dressed his crew like alien invaders, so no one would believe the reports.” He chuckled. “They even decorated some containment trucks to look like spaceships.”
Moira shook her head in wonder. “How did you arrest so many people at once? If they’re Witzer’s goons, they all had tasers and guns.”
“Oh, they did,” agreed Shiloh, “and magic charms to make them seem like your best friend forever.” His golden eyes gleamed with smartass humor. “They didn’t believe in witches.”
