Melanie retreated quickly, trying to keep her eyes on Morrigan as she stalked her through the hallways of the upper floor of the estate. She was down to three rounds now, and while she knew she had hit the young wolf at least a few times, she was still coming, although she was limping from the bullet in her left kneecap.

"Still coming, wench," Morrigan said, spitting blood between her teeth. "Then I get to return all this pain, with interest."

"Not if I put a round in your head, bitch-wolf," Melanie replied, firing two of her final three rounds. She clipped Thornblood in the shoulder, spinning her around, but still she didn't fall. Melanie knew she had only one shot left. "Damn bitch, can't you just stop?"

"Why should I?" Morrigan replied. "You and your fucking Clan has ruined me. I can't go back to my Clan, I know that. My Mother would already be looking for me if she wasn't out there fighting, and my Father will end my life. But before he does, I at least get the satisfaction of knowing your miserable existence is done, and the future of Clan Lockwood with it."

Morrigan pounced, Melanie's final shot going wild as she was tackled, her head banging against the carpeted floor, her head spinning, the world going gray.

* * *

"Flank the far side!" Keith yelled as he saw the Humvee torn apart by the Bradley's 25mm chain gun. Instead of exploding in a gigantic funeral pyre, the vehicle bonged and rattled with rounds puncturing its thin aluminum sides. "Well, there's a good reason to use diesel instead of gas."

"You're telling me," Thornblood fiercely grinned, blood running into his right eye from a shrapnel wound. "I'm just glad I got the last of those fucking grenades launched before that Bradley turned me into cheese."

Keith nodded and turned towards the main threat. It was supported by at least another fifty troops, and he estimated that at best he had fifty or sixty wolves left still able to fight. The attack had been swift before all of his Lockwood forces could be assembled at the estate. There was only about thirty or so Lockwood wolves, the forty Alphas, and their bodyguards. Even a few of the children had joined in the fight, recognizing the level of threat. While that meant there were at least two hundred fifty werewolves, the attacks had been swift and deadly, the initial air strike taking out at least a dozen wolves, and the ground attack killing another thirty or forty more. With some wolves having to remain behind to defend against the air attack and wounds crippling others at least temporarily, their numbers were severely depleted.

Climbing to his knees, Keith prepared to charge, when suddenly he was struck with a blinding pain in his gut. Doubling over, he checked himself carefully before focusing.

"Oh my God," he groaned, his eyes going back towards the estate. The few men there were firing into the air, as the Huey helicopter descended towards the northern gardens.

"What is it?" Thornblood asked, his eyes wide. "The house is empty. Let them blow up the fucking thing, you have enough money to rebuild it!"

"Not empty," Keith said, turning. "Melanie. My son calls to me."

Thornblood turned his gaze back and nodded. "Then go Alpha of the Lockwood Clan. I have communication with my wife, we will coordinate the attack. Save your family."

"You have my gratitude," Keith said, bounding away from the pitched battle. Putting everything he had into his sprinting, he hurdled the bodies and wreckage on his way back to the estate house, not even noticing as the rounds from the Bradley tore up the turf and grass around him. His wife was in danger, and he had to get to her. Now.

* * *

Melanie could feel herself being carried, and for just a moment, she thought perhaps it had all been a dream. Valeria's death, the attack, Kimberly going tumbling down the stairs, it had to all be just a dream. Then she felt her feet sickly strike a door frame, jarring her, and she realized that it was no dream. She could hear the sounds of the battle raging outside, and nearer by, the unmistakable whup-whup-whup of a Huey helicopter, familiar from a childhood of military action movies. She struggled, only to have her arms squeezed tightly.

"Don't fucking move, or else I'll kill you now," Morrigan Thornblood said, her face grim. "If you're lucky, the Silver Bringers might just let you live a while before killing you."

"You realize you're a dead woman too, right?" Mel whispered, her voice barely audible. Morrigan laughed.

"Yeah, I know. If I even get out of this shit alive, I'm going to be hunted by Silver Bringer and werewolf alike. But you see, it doesn't matter. As long as I know you're dead, I can deal with the consequences."

"What did I ever do to deserve your hatred?" Melanie asked. "You had so much promise, so much potential. Valeria told me what she knew about you from the time of your birth. You were smart, smarter than me for sure, maybe even smarter than Kimberly. You would have made a fine Alpha Female."

"Perhaps. But you robbed me of my one chance to help my Clan," she said. "The word quickly spread through the Clans, and I saw as soon as we arrived, Keith will never take a Second Mate. His heart and his Clan rest only in you. And no other Clan would accept me as a First Mate since I would be merely a rebound case. So, it doesn't really matter now, does it? Of course, I do have my regrets. Should I have agreed to the attack? No. I understand that, and I know that my Clan is out there dying along with yours, and many others. But, if I am to be condemned to the fires of Hell.... well, at least I'll have company."

"No," Melanie said, her voice calm and assured. "When you die, Morrigan Thornblood, you die without honor."

"As you wish. Here are your new.... caretakers," she said, kicking open the rear door of the estate and carrying her into the garden. The Huey's rotors still spun, ready to lift off at any time.

"I have your target!" she screamed into the rotor wash, casually holding Melanie over her head. Melanie held very still, knowing that a fall from this height could easily kill her baby.

"Bring her here!" a loudspeaker on the Huey boomed, and Morrigan ran, hunched over, carrying Melanie like a child towards the cargo door. Setting her inside, Melanie could barely struggle before she felt four strong hands grasp her around the shoulders and ankles.

"Now call off the rest of the attack!" Morrigan hollered at the commander, a tall man with sunglasses covering his gaunt cheeks, even in the darkness of night. "You swore that my Clan would not be destroyed!"

"We make no deals with evil," the man replied, pulling his .50 caliber pistol and firing it into Morrigan's chest. The recoil knocked the girl back, laid out on the lawn to gasp into the air as the Huey started to lift off. As it was clearing the ground, about forty feet in the air, Keith came sprinting towards the helicopter, his face written in a mask of rage and anger.

"No!" he cried, leaping towards the helicopter. Even as he did, he knew he had been too late. With a chilling slowness, he saw every detail as he rose towards the chopper. He could see Melanie, her eyes awash in fear and hope, reaching out with one arm while three men struggled with holding her back. He could see the dim blue lights that controlled the radios and other equipment in the cargo area of the Huey. He could see the moon reflecting off the sunglasses of the cavernous man in the doorway. But most of all, he could see the barrel of the .50 caliber handgun pointed right at him, and the hammer rising to fire a round into his head.