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Authors: Dean Murray

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It
took me several seconds before my mind was able to make sense of what
I was seeing. Werewolves had materialized as if by magic out of the
darkness, but they weren't hunting us like I'd expected them to, they
were attacking the enforcers who were just now stumbling out of their
houses and shifting into their hybrid forms.

There
were only forty or fifty houses, and some of them had to contain the
humans who acted as servants to Puppeteer and the others, but that
still left dozens of hostile hybrids that we were going to have to
deal with at some point once Puppeteer got his werewolves back under
control. We were outnumbered and outgunned and the smart thing would
have been to fall back to the vehicles, but I couldn't bear the
thought of leaving now.

We
weren't likely to get another chance at Puppeteer, and even if we did
try to get away, there wasn't a very good chance that we'd actually
be able to outrun the werewolves. Geoffrey certainly couldn't stay
ahead of them, and even once we made it back to the jeeps the odds
would be against us. The trail we'd driven in on was simply too rough
to allow for the kind of speed one would need to outrun a werewolf.

It
was hard to tell whether Geoffrey followed the same train of thought
and understood the sheer hopelessness of our situation, or if he just
couldn't bring himself to abandon Melody again, but he continued to
lead us around the town, ignoring the fighting taking place in some
places less than a dozen yards away from us.

We
were trying to balance the need for speed against the imperative of
not being seen, but less than five minutes after the attack started
the first hybrid stumbled into us. He was disoriented and obviously
still in shock; he never even had a chance.

Geoffrey's
sword took him against the outside edge of his left leg a split
second before two of the wolves latched on to his arms. He was
already falling by the time I hit him, and once he was on the ground
with a wolf pulling on each arm it took only a single swipe to the
throat for me to execute him.

I
was thinking how impressed I was at the way that Geoffrey and my pack
were working together as I stood back up, but before I could tell
them that, a whisper of sound brought me spinning around in an
attempt to fend off the attack that none of us saw coming. The
werewolf hit me hard enough that I was picked up and thrown into a
nearby tree.

An
intense pain ripped through my shoulder, but I didn't even realize
that the werewolf had its fangs buried into my flesh because I was
too busy trying to stop the claws that were only a split second away
from disemboweling me. I was big, bigger than any hybrid I'd ever
seen or heard about, but this wasn't one of the younger, weaker
werewolves; it took all of my strength, two hands against its one, to
keep the werewolf's left hand from ripping me open.

I
sank both sets of talons into the werewolf's left leg, savaging the
appendage, but I knew it wasn't going to be enough. I didn't have the
leverage to break free of its jaws which meant that I couldn't get
away from its free hand which I knew would be coming to end my life
within the next second or two.

I
could hear Geoffrey and the others frantically repositioning to try
and save me, but there wasn't time, we'd been too focused on the
hybrid that we'd just killed; the werewolf had taken us completely by
surprise. Something whistled through the air the way you only get
when something very thin is forced to move very quickly, and I tensed
up for the impact that would be the last thing I would ever feel.

The
whistle ended in a meaty thunk and then the werewolf's blow landed
but rather than the bitter tips of its claws I was battered by a
blunt object. My back was soaked in the werewolf's blood, but I could
feel it pulling its stump back for another strike.

Geoffrey
had bought me a couple more seconds, but the werewolf's left hand was
still inching towards my throat, and there were still ways that it
could kill me with what was left of its right arm. The fangs in my
shoulder were still grinding away in an attempt to get to something
vital, but then all of a sudden Sally and Omar were there. They'd
circled around the tree and they threw themselves at the werewolf,
jaws fastening around the arm both of my hands were wrapped around.

The
extra weight was more than enough to tip the balance and as the
werewolf's hand finally started pulling back away from me, I released
it with my left hand and raked my claws along the side of its neck.
As the werewolf dropped away, dead or dying, I turned around to find
that the other wolves from my pack were desperately trying to keep a
second werewolf occupied.

Tyler
only had a single long set of slashes on his left flank that were
leaking blood, and Chad had so far managed to remain unmarked, but we
all knew that they were only seconds away from being killed. It took
a lot more than just two or three wolves to hold off a werewolf. I
stumbled over the corpse of the werewolf we'd just killed, but
Geoffrey had already moved, gliding forward into engagement range of
the werewolf.

Chad
yelped in pain as the werewolf connected with a backhand that was
fortunately more fist than claw. Geoffrey raised his sword for an
attack, sliding to the left in an attempt to shield Chad, but he was
too late. I could clearly see that nothing any of us could do was
going to be enough to save Chad.

The
werewolf spun around, but rather than following up on the opening it
had just created, it stopped and for a fraction of a second that felt
like eternity nobody moved. The werewolf was staring at Geoffrey and
there was something in its eyes where I'd never before seen anything
more complex than hatred or anger.

Sally
and Omar resumed moving, trying to flank the werewolf, and that broke
the spell, but rather than killing Chad, the werewolf turned and
sprang away from us.

None
of the wolves could speak in this form, but it was obvious from the
way that Tyler was staring after it that he wanted permission to give
pursuit. I stepped forward and bumped his shoulder with the back of
my hand.

"Let
it go, guys. We've got bigger worries than one vacuum that will
hopefully take a few more Coun'hij enforcers with it before Puppeteer
gets it back under control."

Even
as I said the words I realized just how unbelievable it was that
Puppeteer still hadn't brought his minions back to heel. Geoffrey
apparently had the same realization.

"This
can't be just Puppeteer, something else is going on here. Something
or someone is interfering with his ability to control the
werewolves."

"That's
unprecedented, nobody has ever reported anything like that."

Geoffrey
nodded. "I know, I can't explain it, but I've never seen a
werewolf back away like that. They fled once or twice back in the
city when we had them outnumbered, but this was something different.
It was almost like that one recognized me."

"How?
Like from the fighting in New York?"

"I
guess that could be the case, but I killed all but two of the
werewolves that I ran into. None of this makes any sense."

"You're
right, but there isn't time to figure out what's going on. We need to
take advantage of all of the craziness and get to Melody, how much
further do we have to go?"

"She's
not far now."

We
set out again, but the Coun'hij enforcers seemed to be trying to make
it to Puppeteer too. The battle was moving towards us now and despite
our best efforts we couldn't stay completely out of things.

I
saw three hybrids team up against a werewolf as Geoffrey took us out
around a thick cluster of trees. The werewolf managed to bring one of
them down before the other two swarmed it under, but we'd slipped
back out of sight before they could decide whether or not they wanted
to pursue us.

The
darkness seemed positively alive with the sound of fighting. I caught
additional flashes of violence as Geoffrey led us deeper into the
forest. Usually we were far enough away that I couldn't even tell for
sure who was winning a given fight before we dashed past at a run.
Hybrids and werewolves bit and clawed at each other, circling, but I
forced myself not to get involved.

I
told myself over and over again that neither group was on our side. A
part of me wanted to wade into the melee regardless, to kill as many
of them as I could, werewolves and hybrids both, because each one we
killed now while they were distracted with each other was one less we
were going to have to face later, but I knew that Geoffrey was right
to be leading us around the worst of the fighting. We couldn't afford
to waste our strength here, not when we had no idea what we would be
up against once we made it to Puppeteer's lair.

"We're
getting close, but there's a group ahead of us fighting and there
isn't any way to avoid them, not without stumbling into even bigger
fights. We need to take these guys out or they'll follow us into the
caves."

My
beast flexed her claws inside of my head. She was past ready to kill
more of our enemies. It was all I could do to restrain the bestial
yell that she demanded from me, but I managed to just nod in
agreement. My wolves spread out a little to either side as Geoffrey
and I slipped through the underbrush and into a smoke-filled
nightmare.

There
had been so much else going on that while I had noticed the smoke on
the air, I hadn't assigned it any importance. We'd just found the
source.

Three
of the hybrid enforcers had squared off against a single werewolf and
they fought inside an artificial clearing that had been created by
the fires that now flickered, barely living, at the clearing's edge.
I'd never heard of a hybrid whose ability was strong enough to
overwhelm the absorptive field of one werewolf, let alone the dozens
that seemed to be fighting within a hundred yards of us, but one of
these hybrids was some kind of pyromancer and he was nearly strong
enough to use his power despite the werewolf that he and his friends
were trying to kill.

The
ash-covered ground was hot under my feet as I crossed it, but I
ignored the discomfort as I sprinted towards the closest hybrid. The
hybrids had backed the werewolf nearly all the way to the edge of the
open space, and before I could cross the length of the clearing a
tree directly behind the werewolf went up as though someone had
poured gasoline on it.

The
initial rush of heat was great enough to cause the trees on either
side of the burning one to start smoking, but the fire died down
almost instantly, leaving the original tree blackened and charred,
dead, but not consumed. The heat scorched the back of the werewolf,
which let out a roar that was answered by two more howls from nearby
werewolves within seconds.

Under
normal circumstances it was almost impossible to take a hybrid
completely by surprise, and we were running much too fast to have any
prayer of remaining silent, but I simply forced myself to go faster
and hoped that the hybrids were all too involved in the battle at
hand to notice us until it was too late.

The
closest hybrid spun around just before I made it into striking range
of him, but it didn't do him any good. He slashed at me, but I
grabbed his wrist and spun, throwing him bodily into a nearby tree.
Geoffrey hadn't been able to keep up with me, but his blade licked
out as the hybrid stumbled past him. Geoffrey's sword came away red,
but there wasn't any way to know for sure how badly he'd injured the
enforcer because my wolves all jumped the hybrid before he could get
back to his feet.

A
hybrid was often a match for two wolves, but rarely could a normal
hybrid take on three and never four, especially not when fighting
from the ground after they already had both arms immobilized. I
didn't stop to watch them tear the hybrid apart; I turned to go after
another enforcer.

The
werewolf was bleeding in a dozen different spots and had charred
spots where it had gotten too close to one or more of the fires, but
it took advantage of the shift in the balance of the fight with the
kind of brutal suddenness that was so typical of its kind. One second
there were two hybrids trying desperately to keep the werewolf busy,
and then in the next the werewolf had one of the hybrids dangling
lifelessly from its claws.

I'd
expected the last hybrid to attack the werewolf while its back was
turned, that or run away to join up with others from the enclave, but
instead she turned towards me as I rushed forward. A blistering heat
started to build just before I reached her.

"Scatter!"

My
yell came only a split second before another intense fire exploded
behind me, but I'd done all that I could to warn my people. I raked
my claws along the other hybrid's arms and then ducked a blow that
would have otherwise taken my head off.

As
a wolf I would have probably stepped back then and waited for another
opportunity. She'd turned slightly, enough to deny me a shot at her
throat, but not enough to open up any of the other targets that I
usually preferred. Retreat wasn't an option this time though because
if I took the pressure off of her she'd launch another fire attack at
one of my people. Besides, there was still the werewolf to worry
about. A wounded werewolf was still more than capable of killing me,
so I needed to finish off the hybrid now.

All
of that went through my mind in a split second, but I'd already
started moving, acting out of reflexes and an instinctual sense on
the part of my beast of what needed to happen in any given fight. I
stepped into the hybrid, slapping her arm out of my way to enlarge
the opening that she'd left with her overeager slash, and then I hit
her with my shoulder.

I
didn't have enough momentum to send her sailing, but I hit her hard
enough to knock her to the ground and I was on her before she could
recover enough to regain her feet. I sank one set of talons into each
of her arms, pinning them to the ground with my full weight, and then
buried my right hand in her chest.

BOOK: Driven
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