Lit by the moon’s radiance, John stood proud.

He raised his fists to the sky channeling the force into his body, and the heat of the night receded. Light flooded the land as if a wave of winter seawater had crashed over us making the hairs stand up against my skin as a layer of icy frost settled on my bare arms. The shades felt it too. For the first time that night, they turned away from the cub, and looked at us.

Through the mist that sprang up from the ground, I saw John drop his arms to shoulder level, aiming two Spanish pistols at his prey. He had grown taller, at least a head above his usual stature. His shoulders had broadened a full ten inches, too, and the muscles on his arms were larger, more pronounced. His hat lay on the ground, the black hair that usually hung level with his jaw had thickened, and now seethed around his head as though it lived.

Still largely in human form, he looked over his shoulder, and signaled for me to step up beside him. Sharing the air around him chilled my marrow, though as he caught my look, his bronze eyes softened the cold. Even at this moment, when he was closer to wolf than man, I felt safe in his presence.

I readied my Winchester, and we walked forward to where the shades were waiting.

Twenty stood between us and the cub. The sounds of hooves drumming on the ground came from the distance. More on their way! The baby was in the hands of the worst of them. A man of massive stature wearing a General’s hat, and a look of anger so intense his eyes flared with fire.

As a second surge of moon energy came over John, another wave of freezing air hit us all. The remaining shades arranged themselves into a line in front of the cub, two men deep. Earlier, they’d appeared relaxed. Now, they snapped to attention, no doubt knowing full well the risks of battling a wolf.

The lead bullets in our guns could take out some. Base metal hurtling them back to the lower world, the DeadLands that spawned them. Where the guns failed, John had his own weapons, but he’d need to fully transform for that, and this would sap his strength still further. He’d need that strength to transport the boy far from here.

The shades pitched forward. They came in one movement; no longer needing their voices. It seemed they were controlled by another, who directed their movements and actions, and motivated them to violence. Trader. My eyes swept over the whole graveyard, but I could see no one.

“He’ll be here, Sowilo.” John’s voice had deepened. “Time to fight!” And with that he took aim.

But I got off the first shot—a fraction before John let loose with his guns.

The bullet hit the monster closest to us, ripping through its throat. A lucky hit. I usually found my shooting arm wanting. Today I hit the target perfectly. The lead created such inner turmoil to his make up he exploded, the pieces of him dissolving into the ground. I took the recoil against my hip, a bruise already forming as I prepared for the next shot.

John’s pistols cracked, bringing two more shades to their knees. They too splintered, and soaked back through the earth to their deserted graves. The land beneath our feet was turning to bog, saturated with the dissolving shades. A dangerous situation: the evil could collect and reestablish itself as a primitive force to enter our flesh or accumulate in our blood.

Shades are the most insidious of demons. They will infiltrate your body, take possession of your soul, and lap it all up—from the inside.

With only three down, we had to work fast. The hoofbeats were getting closer, and Trader already had control. He would be readying further entities to take the place of the fallen.

John’s transformation continued as he fought. Dagger-sharp canine teeth had pushed their way up through his jaws, and claws sprang from his fingers. The lead core of both would replace the guns soon enough.

As I took aim once more, I felt a cold wet sensation creeping over my body. It slid under my skirt and up my legs, gliding up my back, and around my neck. With sudden strength, it yanked me off my feet to the ground, so that I found myself on my knees in the black sludge.

I tried to raise a hand to John, to shout out, but could do nothing except watch as he shot at the shades distant from him, while ripping into the flesh of those close by. His jaws sank into necks; his claws ripped open chests.

As the shades became more incensed, they gained power and yet more determination to bring him down. With each injury, a cloud of dark fury rose into the air, reformed into a featureless human shape, and flew at him once more. Others, finally defeated, sank into the ground.

Then my view was obstructed completely.

Dense blackness slid over my face and completely encompassed my body. It invaded my mind, forcing memories of the terrible events that studded my life. Each loss gripped me, tightened around my heart, and threatened to suffocate my breath.

In my heart a tiny flicker of anger ignited. I no longer cared about this fight, instead, I wanted revenge. I wanted to find each of those who had taken my loved ones from me, and rip them apart. My anger burst into an inferno. And, now, I had no other mission but achieving that goal.

Far away a cry broke through the fury in my heart, the sound of the cub. Once again, screaming his pain. His desperation brought me back, and reminded me of my purpose here and now: to save the baby. To save my daughter. Revenge would have to wait.

In my mind, I wrestled with the shade’s magic, twisting away from its grip on my soul. Resist, Sowilo, resist! I managed a breath so deep it felt I pulled it from the sky itself, and the clouds in my mind cleared. In my vision, a small pinprick of light appeared.

In my right hand, I still held the Winchester ready to fire. With my left, I scraped at the evil over my face, wrenching the sticky black covering from my eyes and ears with a growl that challenged even John’s. Finally, it fell away. The sounds of the battlefield roared back to me, filling my ears. I stood my ground.

My sight reestablished, I saw the outline of my attacker in front of me. He grinned, a pirate-style patch over one eye, and a Yankee cap perched on his head. His hands were still deep in my chest, squeezing my lungs so that my breath came in wheezes. I brought the gun up, and fired.

The shade exploded from the chest up. The last view I had of him, before he sank into the ground, was the shock of destruction plainly pasted on his features.

I sucked in another breath, and looked for the baby. There was one shade left in front of me. He yanked the whimpering cub toward him, still chained. With the remains of the shades dripping gray sludge from his jaws, John completed his transformation, and howled.