The next day had me doped up and feeling pretty happy as Sorsha’s newest treatment attempt coursed through my veins. Oh, I wasn’t better, but Sorsha had upped the dosage so I at least felt functional. I was a little numb, and more than a bit dazed, but at least I managed to get out of bed under my own power. I called that a win.

I spent a chunk of the morning pacing my room with a book in my hands, using the exercise to clear my head. It was like working the kinks out of a sore muscle. Sometimes a body had to push through the pain to heal.

Unfortunately, my babysitters disagreed. A girl tries to take one step out of the building and then all of a sudden a gel and two werewolves surround her. They crowded around and herded me back to my room and Reggie didn’t even try to help me.

Traitor.

“I know you’re feeling better.” Rush gave me that same concerned look I always got from Sam. “But you can’t push yourself too hard.”

I swallowed my first instinctual, yet childish, response. You’re not the boss of me!

Instead, I crossed my arms and stared him down—even if he was taller than me. I wondered how hard I could push him if I put my mind to it, but I decided to choose my battles more carefully while I was sick. This wasn’t one worth fighting.

“Fine,” I pointed at him. “But I’m not getting back in bed.”

Then I’d returned to pacing while I eyed the window. It wouldn’t take much to climb through the opening and then I’d have all the fresh air I wanted. Except, I’d maybe get a five-minute head start before Reggie betrayed me. Hellborn bastard dog.

I sighed and pulled my attention from the yard only to have my attention snatched by the TV. The local news filled the screen and I grabbed the remote and stabbed my finger into the volume button before crawling onto the bed, resting while I watched.

The television showed an aerial view of a large mob crowding the streets of downtown Orlando. The picture wasn’t clear, the people moving frantically and camera trembling, but I recognized the signature shambling of the undead.

The ghouls.

“So far,” the reporter said while the camera panned over the mob, “rioters have refused to listen to police even after multiple orders to disperse. Police have deployed tear gas and attempted other crowd control measures, but the riot continues to grow. We’ve received reports of multiple citizens injured and Mayor Boyd has issued an order for all residents to remain inside their homes.”

“Shit,” I muttered.

What was Boyd thinking? Why the hell would he send police to handle ghouls? He should have known humans couldn’t do shit against those things. It was only a matter of time before the situation worsened and careened completely out of control. Then the press would realize this wasn’t a riot, and that would mean serious trouble.

The camera zoomed in; the picture still trembling but at least I was able to get a clearer look. There only seemed to be a few dozen ghouls, but if they continued rampaging unchecked, they’d infect more and more humans. Their ranks would swell, and within a few hours a horde of hundreds would be swarming the streets.

The motherfucking magic-wielder behind it all was growing bolder by the second. I shook my head. There was no one to blame but myself. If I’d been out there, hunting the ghouls and stopping them in their tracks, this wouldn’t have happened.

Instead, I’d allowed myself to be caught and caged like an animal.

“Fuck it.” I strode to the door.

Reggie bolted forward, blocking my path as he planted his hulking body in front of the exit. He stared at me, red eyes settled into a dark glare, and a low growl emanated from his throat.

“Move it, mutt.” I pointed to the corner, but Reggie didn’t budge.

And I didn’t have the strength to move him.

I stared at the hellhound, willing him to back down. My wolf came forward, the beast flowing through me with its overwhelming dominance and strength. I was a badass motherfucker and Reggie…

Reggie couldn’t have cared less. Hell, I think the pup even raised a canine eyebrow.

If I tried to push past him, the hound would tackle me and hold me immobile until Uncle Luc came to chastise me for my foolishness. That didn’t mean I was giving up.

All hail pixie power!

“All right,” I kept a close eye on Reggie. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy for doing what Uncle Luc told you,” I cooed. “Yes you are. Good doggie.”

I walked to the corner and retrieved his bone. Demon, thankfully. I’d been worried how the werewolves watching over me would have reacted if Reggie was snacking on their cousin’s leg or something.

I shook it in the air, his red eyes following the waving bone, and then tossed it to the pup. He caught it with his teeth and then laid down in front of the door. He gnawed on the demon femur and if I made it through this mess, I’d make sure he had all the demons he could stomach.

“That’s a good boy.” I inched to the window and hoped he’d be too distracted to realize my intention. Reggie was far smarter than a mortal dog, but… he was still a dog. There were limits to his craftiness.

Reggie closed his eyes and growled, biting hard on one end as if the demon was alive and fighting. Ooh, maybe I could catch a demon just for him. That would be a nice apology for the pup.

Before he could react, I spun and threw open the window. I leapt through the opening and shifted into my wolven form mid-leap. My body screamed in agony, my injury sending an electrifying jolt of pain through me from snout to tail.

Normally I could shift as quickly and easily as breathing, but this… This was like trying to take off a shirt with two broken arms—clumsy and tormenting.

I stumbled on the grass as I landed, my paws skidding on the dew-slick ground. I slammed to the earth and dug my claws into the dirt, scrambling to all fours. I didn’t look back, and didn’t hesitate as I launched into a ground-eating run. I headed toward the riot—and toward the impending destruction of my city. My movements were stiff, nerves raw, and a sensation of pins and needles shot through my hind leg.

I picked up speed with every stride, the adrenaline rush helping me push the harsh edge of the pain aside. I felt as if a part of me had fallen asleep, blood deprived from my paw and leg. Now life-giving blood rushed forward, painful at first, but I pushed through the sensations until I felt renewed by the movement.

A growl came from behind me, the dark sound accompanied by the taint of sulfur and brimstone—Reggie. He had followed like a loyal dog, and now that I’d escaped, I doubted he’d try to force me back to the clinic. He was protective, but he wasn’t smart enough to fight me. Or maybe he wasn’t dumb enough to fight me.

Regardless, I was a little glad he’d followed. Yes, the longer I ran, the better I felt, but what would happen to me once adrenaline was no longer my BFF?

I’d need his protection.

I raced across the city, following the pungent scent of the ghouls and the destruction they’d left in their wake. It didn’t take long to locate them, their wretched bodies swarming through one of the famous mouse’s premier hotels. A line of cop cars was at one end of the street, officers aiming non-lethal crowd control weapons at the ghouls.

Humans. They still thought this was a riot. While rubber bullets, tear gas, and shotguns loaded with beanbags would work on a mob of humans, they were worthless against these guys. By the time the cops realized their error, it would already be too late.

Too bad facing the ghouls with no help but one young hellhound wasn’t my only problem. Nah, my other teeny tiny issue was the fact that I really didn’t feel like getting my lupine ass shot by the cops. If they thought I was a wild animal loose in the city, they wouldn’t hesitate to riddle me with bullets. On High forbid a wolf be a threat to the rioting humans.

I rolled my eyes.

While I could manage a few gunshots without breaking my stride, I had limits.

I raced along the shadows, my jet-black fur melding with the darkness. I wasn’t an ordinary werewolf. I was born from the unholy things that dwelled deep within the bowels of the Earth. When I shifted, I became one with those shadows. Night was my ally, a part of me.

I snuck behind the cops before any of them noticed my presence. I leapt from the shadows, shifting back to two legs, and grabbed the nearest man. I wrenched the riot gun from his grasp while I gripped the back of his neck with my other hand. I slammed him into the pavement just hard enough to knock him out cold.

Damn, that felt good. It had been a while since I’d gotten to do some damage.

I turned the riot gun—filled with six, forty-millimeter projectiles—and fired it at the other cops. Over and over in rapid succession, I sent smoke bombs all over the blockade. The humans wore gas masks to shield them from the smoke in case of a change in the wind, so this wouldn’t debilitate them, but it would blind and distract them for a few moments. Just long enough for me to take care of business.

I leapt over the nearest car and rushed the ghouls. I pointed at the biggest mass and shouted to the pup. “Reggie! Sic ‘em!”

The hellhound—charged with protecting me—recognized the threat of the undead. He raced ahead of me and leapt into the air with a demonic snarl. One that would send shivers down the spine of any mortal. He opened his great, gaping maw and a stream of hellfire spewed forth, incinerating a half-dozen ghouls instantly.

“Good boy!” I shouted over the pain-filled screams. I was definitely glad Reggie had tagged along.

On any other day, I would draw on my own dark powers and unleash a firestorm that would scorch the rest of the crowd within moments, but…

Running this far had taken a fuck ton out of me. It wouldn’t be long before my adrenaline rush wore off and I passed out where I stood. Luckily, Reggie had already provided the fire I needed. I merely had to make good use of it.

I raced to the nearest pile of smoldering remains, Reggie’s fire still present in the heap. I thrust my hands into the flames and pulled his heat into me. Normally I drew from Hell’s circles myself, but now, I could draw on Reggie’s, soaking up the heat like it was water. The hellfire filled me, thrilled me, and made me feel more alive than I had in days. The pain of my phantom wound faded, and I took a deep breath of the harsh, smoky air. It tasted like home and love.

What? The devil could love in his own way.

Flames dancing on my palms, I raised them up and threw the heat in twin streams. They blazed across the horde of ghouls, dozens catching fire, their clothes and skin igniting while their undead screams filled the air—like a glorious symphony I wanted to hear again and again.

It really had been too long since I’d killed something.

Smoke filled the air, blocking out all light—which I hoped included the camera on the news ‘copter in the sky. The last thing I needed was a live broadcast of me channeling hellfire and incinerating what everyone would assume were humans.

Eh, even if they did… I’d let Mayor Boyd handle the PR. I was sure he’d come up with some great cover story. We’re in the land of the famous mouse, right? He could claim it was all a publicity stunt.

Reggie continued to unleash his hellfire-infused breath on any stray ghouls I had missed while I kept the fires blazing in the streets. Pavement melted and bubbled, the ghouls reducing to ash so no bodies remained. That’d make it easier to clean up. The police would never believe that a natural fire could burn hot enough to cremate bodies so quickly.

I could practically hear Boyd’s news-ready spin now. “Special effects are amazing these days…”

The screeching whir of sirens sounded in the distance and I groaned. The cops had called in the fire department. At least their water would wash away the infernal ashes I was making. I let the fires fade, and the hellfire withered without my prodding. It left nothing but a scattering of normal, tween fires that danced on several nearby buildings. I turned and ran down a narrow alley between two shops. I hoped the fire department could contain the fires I’d left behind before the damage was too severe.

We didn’t need a replay of Chicago, did we? I mentally groaned. Set fire to a city one time… Besides, that’d been extenuating circumstances. I had caught my ex cheating. Any woman who thought she was in love would set fire to the man’s things. Mine just happened to be hellfire and city building code hadn’t been what it was today.

Really, when you think about it, it wasn’t my fault. I could blame it on building inspectors.

My rush of adrenaline ebbed, fading quickly by the time I cleared the scene. Reggie followed at my side and I leaned against him for support. I wished I could have clung to the hellfire a little longer, using its energy to keep me on my feet. But as sick as I was, it would be too difficult to restrain. Now that it was gone… the toll of my injury throbbed and made itself known.

The ache in my body pulsed in time with my heart, throbbing and attacking me with every sluggish step.

Yay team for killing the ghouls, right? Now I was sorta wishing I’d stayed in bed.

But I sure as hell wouldn’t admit that to anyone. I didn’t take “I told you so” very well. Or, like, ever. At all. I tended to have a very visceral—deadly—reaction to those four words.

I think that was Uncle Luc’s influence.

The wind changed and the smoky air now carrying a hint of that putrid, rotted flesh I’d come to associate with the ghouls. Strays that had escaped the flames? I followed the scent, hoping I could catch them before anyone else was harmed.

My steps wavered and my thoughts scrambled, becoming more intangible with each passing moment. I stumbled along, Reggie taking more and more of my weight while I fought to put one foot in front of the other. Then I couldn’t feel my legs at all. It seemed like I floated outside my body, another force drawing me onward.

I found a handful of stray ghouls slipping into a park at the edge of the city, fleeing for safety now that the jig was up. My mind—my wolf—demanded I chase them, eliminate them once and for all, but…

My body wouldn’t respond. I just kept moving forward, floating along after the ghouls as if… As if I was no longer chasing them. I was joining them.

A spear of frigid cold washed over me and bile rose in my throat. The wound in my side pulsed, waves of pain stretching throughout my body. My thoughts crowded and bounced in my head, muffled as if they were wrapped in cotton. Control… I didn’t have any control over my body, or my mind.

Another tsunami of coldness hit me, accompanied by a flare of blue and then it finally struck me. I’d killed the ghouls with my hellfire but left myself vulnerable. I’d exhausted myself until the infection had no trouble gaining a foothold.

I was being transformed into one of those things and I was losing the battle.

I wove around the trees as I crossed into the park and managed to snare a nearby trunk before I was drawn into the clearing. I clung to it, using it to hold me upright. If I passed out now, if I gave the magic an inch, I was done for.

Like an addict during an overdose, I had to keep myself awake. I had to cling to consciousness or I’d be swept away and lost forever.

And I hadn’t even planned my funeral yet. I wanted a Britney Spears impersonator, dammit!

The remaining ghouls rushed toward a fountain in the center of the park. One after another they dove into the water. Shafts of blue light streamed from the depths of the fountain—a portal hidden beneath the waters.

A figure stood at the edge of the fountain, hands directing them like a puppeteer pulling strings. His undead slaves followed his will and I felt those strings pull at me. They hooked into me through my phantom wound, tugging at my side.

But the magic hadn’t spread through my whole body. I was still breathing. I was still alive.

And I was no one’s motherfucking puppet.

Unless Sam was into that sort of thing.

The puppet master’s head tilted to the side, his gaze searching the dark. He sensed me, his mind probing at the incomplete connection that had begun to stretch between us. His dark will tugged at my mind but I brushed him off.

I got no strings, dick fuck. Okay, that might not be exactly how the song went, but whatevs.

The figure turned, dark cloak flaring with the gusting wind. A cape? Cliché much? Gah, there was even a hood. A hood that a bony hand lowered. I caught sight of a weathered face etched with Germanic features. Deep, sky blue eyes locked onto mine.

I knew those eyes. I knew that face.

Keller.

Well, one mystery solved. Go team!