She stared at me, unblinking. Hatred twisted her face.
“You think you can stop him. You can’t. All of you will die.”
I flicked Sarrat, warming up my wrist. I’d promised Beau I’d let his deputy make the call, and I would keep my word. “Holland, I need that go-ahead.”
“I can take you in,” Holland said. “She’ll kill you, but Milton County will protect you. There is due process.”
She was past saving, but I had to give it to him, he did try.
Bulges rolled under Jene’s skin, like billiard balls moving through her body.
Ascanio pulled two vicious-looking knives from the sheaths on his belt.
“Holland!” Damn it.
She swayed, an eerie sad smile on her face, reached out, and brushed Holland’s face with her fingertips, caressing his skin with gentle tenderness.
“Gladys’s son.”
“That’s right.” Holland nodded. “Come with me. Let me take you in . . .”
“When he comes through with his soldiers and fire, I’ll follow him.”
She took several steps back. “And I’ll feed. I’ll wait until he kills you, Gladys’s son, and then I’ll suck your bones dry.”
Her whole body jerked and shot upward. Her clothes ruptured, and a huge body spilled out, growing bigger and bigger. She fell straight down and gripped the dirt with her hands, her elbows up, as if she were about to do a push-up.
“What the hell . . .” Holland breathed out.
Her legs turned within their sockets with a vomit-inducing crunch, until her knees stuck straight up, like the legs of a spider. Her neck lengthened, thickening, the skin dripping down to form a pouch on her throat. Her white hair fell loose around her giant head, her wrinkled breasts sagged to the forest floor, and a thin strip of gray fur sprouted on her spine. Yellowed claws curved from her fingers and toes. She was the size of a bus.
“Hungry!” She screeched, clicking sharp conical teeth. “I’m hungry!”
Beau could take his instructions and shove them where the sun didn’t shine. “Hit her!”
The two shapeshifters charged in from the sides. The thing that was Jene Boudreaux dashed forward with cockroach quickness, straight at me.
I shoved Holland aside and sliced across her face with my sword. A bloody line swelled across her skin, severing her lip. She slapped me. I flew back, landed on the grass, and rolled to my feet in time to see her kick Derek with her right foot. He hurtled through the air and vanished into the brush. She must’ve knocked him down the slope.
I sprinted to her.
Ascanio sank both of his knives into her side. She howled and rolled sideways, right over him. He went down, pinned under her massive body.
I slashed at her shoulder. Move off my bouda, you bitch.
She snapped her teeth at me, trying to bat me aside with her giant clawed hand, and dug in, crushing Ascanio beneath her bulk. I sliced at her hand, carving at it with precise strikes. She screeched in pain.
Lots of nerves in the hand. Hurts like hell, doesn’t it? Get off the boy.
A dark gray shape burst out of the brush and landed on the creature’s back. Derek thrust his claws into her spine. Jene rolled the other way, trying to pin him with her weight. He jumped off and landed on my right. Ascanio darted over to us, free. His body twisted into a nightmarish blend of hyena and human. His hackles rose and he cackled.
Jene rolled to her feet and hands. Her side bled, carved like a side of beef—Ascanio had been busy with his knife.
I flicked the blood off my sword.
Jene glanced at the three of us on her right and the stretch of woods to the left, and dashed toward freedom. Holland thrust himself into her path and swung his sword. She jerked her head up, quick like a snake, dove, and gulped him down whole.
Dear gods, she ate Beau’s deputy.
A bulge landed in her throat sac and flailed, kicking. She sprinted through the woods, heading west, blindingly fast, scrambling through the forest like some monstrous pallid lizard.
Holland had seconds to live. We’d never catch up and kill her in time. We had to make her turn toward us. To the right, a slope dropped toward the river. When you fled, you naturally ran downhill.
“Derek, herd her! Make her turn southeast along the river.”
Derek’s eyes flashed yellow. He raised his head and let out a long wolf howl announcing the hunt. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The werewolf and werehyena shot into the woods.
I dashed down the south slope and almost ran into a narrow tree. Nice going. Maybe I’d break my neck and save everyone the trouble.
To the left of me Derek howled nonstop, Ascanio’s eerie laughter a bloodcurdling drumbeat to the wolf song.
I caught myself on a tree and paused, surveying the woods. The river lay to my right. A couple hundred yards behind me, a bridge spanned the deep water. In front of me, an old bike path, overgrown but still visible, snaked through the woods, playing hide-and-seek with the shore. If she came from the west, she’d take it.
A huge oak towered to the left of the path. Perfect.
I pressed my back against the bark. I’d only get one shot at this.
The sounds of snapping wood and brush came from the west.
I held my breath.
Closer.
Closer.
A sapling snapped with a loud crack.
Now. I lunged out from behind the tree just as she passed me and sliced across her gullet.
The skin pouch tore open under Sarrat’s merciless edge. Holland tumbled out, covered in slime, and drew a hoarse breath.