59

Remembering that we’d all been given a silver knife as our only weapon, I pulled it from the thigh sheath and rushed forward. The feral saw me coming and released Leif’s foot to lunge toward me. The madness was evident in its eyes. I leaped at it, tackling the beast to the forest floor. It snapped its jaws at me, sending saliva strings slapping into my face. A paw lashed down and cut through my leggings, leaving four bloody gashes across my quadricep. The pain didn’t hurt so much as it pissed me off.

Slamming my knife into its side, I felt the blade slide through the skin and flesh like a knife through butter. There was a pop as it cracked through a rib and then a burst of bloody, foamed air when it pierced the lung.

The beast yowled and twisted from my grasp to run back into the jungle. I lost my knife, but I’d managed to get the thing away from Leif and myself. Crawling over to him, I found he was in bad shape. He’d passed out from either blood loss or shock. His body was riddled with deep bites, one right by his clavicle. He’d come inches from having his throat ripped out by the feral shifter.

He wasn’t healing fast enough. Shifters healed fasters than most other creatures on the planet. The gouges on my leg had already clotted and formed scabs, but Leif’s wounds were still seeping blood. With a sigh, I bent to lift the man into my arms. He was fucking heavy. I’d never be able to carry him to the mansion.

Before I even had Leif off the ground, I heard paws on leaves, panting breaths, and low growls. I tilted my nose to the air, taking in the scents around me. More ferals. All wolves, at least four of them. I’d lost my knife, and Leif’s was missing from his belt. No weapon, no ability to shift, and an unconscious body to protect. Fuck. Even my skills wouldn’t be enough to survive this if things went bad.

I crouched low and raised my fists, glaring into the forest, ready for whatever was to come. A familiar howl broke through the morning air, and a wolf leaped into the clearing. I recognized it immediately from the torn ear. Wyatt had told me he’d been grazed by a hunter’s silver bullet in his younger years. He’d carry that wound forever.

Wyatt backed up against me, lips pulled back from white fangs as he growled at the ferals circling us. Leif moaned, and his eyes fluttered open. Now was my chance.

I grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. “Fucking run,” I growled, throwing one of his arms over my shoulders.

The feral shifters were slowly inching out of the forest, and Wyatt snapped and bit at them, keeping them off us long enough for Leif and me to stumble into the jungle toward the mansion. My leg was still sore, even though it was healing. Leif was barely able to stumble along, but it was better than carrying a dead weight.

After half a mile, my body aching and drenched in sweat, Wyatt reappeared beside us. He was scratched, and his fur was bloody, but he overall looked uninjured. He shifted to his human form and ran his hands over my body, looking for injuries.

“You’re hurt,” he said, seeing the claw marks on my leg.

“It’s fine. Can you take this freaking guy?” I groaned as I tried to push Leif toward Wyatt.

He took the other man in a fireman’s carry, then shot me a wicked grin. “Race?”

“Oh, hell,” I growled, then took off running.

My body was exhausted, but Wyatt was carrying Leif, which meant I should have still outpaced him. Much to my irritation and dismay, though, Wyatt was right there beside me, the other man hanging across his shoulders and groaning in pain.

The noises around us increased. Snarling, howling, and grunting came from so many different creatures that I couldn’t distinguish them from their sound or their scent. All I knew was they were getting closer. We were fast enough to outrun the ones behind us, but they were coming from all directions. We had to change our route three times to skirt one threat or another.

Wyatt hissed a curse as a scaled arm snapped out from the shadows, long curved talons scratching two deep furrows in his arm. I could see the outline of the mansion through the trees. We were almost there. My lungs and legs were on fire. I could only imagine how Wyatt’s body must have been groaning under Leif’s weight. Loath as I was to admit it, I was incredibly impressed with his strength.

Finally, we broke through the tree line and crossed over the magical barrier into the mansion’s grounds. We collapsed to the ground, dry-heaving and sucking wind. I glanced back and saw the feral shifters, vampires, and a half dozen other creatures slink back into the foliage. Close. That had been way too close. I sat on my knees, hands on my thighs as I looked around for any of the others, but the place looked deserted.

Clapping echoed from the top of the steps. Turning, I saw Von walking down, his umbrella hovering over him.

“Well done, Miss Durst. You are a surprise,” Von said. “Wonderful job getting back fast—and alive.”

Wyatt set Leif down, then scooped me up in his arms, carrying me toward the chairs on the veranda. It happened so fast, I didn’t register what was happening until we were right in front of the cameras Von was addressing. It sounded like he was giving the viewers some kind of run-down.

“Put me down,” I hissed. “I’m not hurt.”

Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered. “Don’t forget the cameras.”

I looked back over at Von and realized what Wyatt was doing. The asshole was playing it up for the audience, making himself out to be my big strapping hero—my white knight. I groaned internally and felt my skin crawl, but Wyatt was right. If I didn’t thank him properly, the viewers might think I was a cold-hearted bitch. Reluctantly, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his chest as he carried me to a chair, gently setting me down.