Maeve looked up at her, her gaze worried. A moment ago, she’d been eight inches taller, but now she barely came up to Helena’s chin. “Are you ready for this?”
“Of course.” Ten werewolves. Ten. This is going to be bad. But she was no stranger to fear, and it had never stopped her yet. The odds suck, but I’ve got a death god. I’ll get hurt, but I’ll survive. I always do.
Until I don’t, whispered a voice. She ignored it.
Helena drew Liam from the holster belted around her hips. He felt almost dainty in her clawed hand now, more like a derringer than a .38. Unlike the rest of her clothing, he and his gear hadn’t disappeared with her transformation, since she wore him on her hip even in dire wolf form. “Open a gate to Essus.”
“Let me get presentable first,” he said, shifting out of the smart-ass Ladysmith guise to become a sawed-off shotgun with two huge barrels. His gun belt glowed bright around her hips. When the light faded, it had transformed into a long scabbard that ran down her back from right shoulder to left hip. As usual, the swirl of so much magic felt like ants swarming over her skin.
A glowing red point appeared in midair, expanding into a wavering oval that looked like a clear pool of water turned on its side. Looking through the dimensional gate, Helena saw what appeared to be a pile of red and yellow feathers lying in the middle of a long hallway.
“Good hunting,” Maeve said gruffly, the bells in her long hair chiming.
“I will get Conal back.” Helena dipped her head to the goddess and stepped through the gate, reality warping around her as she slipped from one universe to the next.
As her feet touched down on the hallway’s polished wooden floor, the world seemed to go dull and lifeless. The natural force that was Mageverse magic didn’t exist in its twin universe. She’d have to draw power from the Mageverse to shift again.
Like it or not -- and sometimes she didn’t -- Helena was now a creature of magic.
At the end of the corridor, the pile of feathers moaned and stirred. She padded toward it, soundless as a house cat. She’d learned to move quietly for all her size.
Another strangled scream made the fur rise on the back of her neck. The ugly rasp of werewolf laughter deepened the chill. Fanged jaws gaped over her, exhaling the scent of her blood…
I can handle these bastards. Liam had spent five years honing her FBI close-quarter combat skills, turning her into a human weapon. No, not human. A werewolf weapon.
Sometimes it was good to be one of the monsters.
As she reached the pile of feathers, the growling sound of dire wolf laughter grew softer. Liam had surrounded her with one of his stealth bubbles, rendering everything within its radius invisible and soundless to the outside world.
She dropped to one knee beside the feathered shape. “I’m here, Essus. It’s Helena. The Mother sent me.”
“What?” Golden eyes blinked open. Unlike the raptors of mortal Earth, the phoenix eagle had vibrant red, orange and yellow plumage that echoed the fire he could call. Yet he lay splayed out on the floor, surrounded by broken feathers as if he’d been hit by a truck. One of his wings was twisted at an unnatural angle, and deep claw marks gouged his blood-splattered golden chest. The bird blinked up at her, visibly fighting to focus his power. Like Liam’s, his voice was a product of magic, since he lacked the lips and vocal cords for speech. “Helena?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Needing both hands free, she rested Liam across her lap. “I’m going to have to pick you up.”
Yellow eyes flickered uneasily, but Essus said, “Yes… yes, okay.”
Careful of her claws, Helena scooped one hand under his head and the other under his tail, angling his body to avoid jostling his injuries. Despite his eight-foot wingspan, he only weighed about twenty pounds. He gasped in pain, then snapped his beak shut.
“Nobody can hear us, Essus -- I’ve got a shield spell up,” Liam told him. “Helena, he needs treatment now.”
“Open a gate.”
Magic lit her senses as another wavering opening appeared, this one in easy reach. Unlike the last, it was only about a yard across. “Maeve, I’ve got Essus.”
On the other side, the goddess turned from pacing the garden path. “Good! I…” Her eyes widened as she saw Helena’s feathered burden. She immediately dropped to her knees to peer through the gate. “Ahhh, my dear one, what have the vermin done to you?”
The bird made a high, screeching cry of pain and despair.
“He’s hurt pretty bad,” Helena warned, handing the Familiar through the gate. Maeve took him with exquisite care and a soothing croon.
“Helena… help my boy…” Essus turned his head to look back at her. “Third door on the left. Balcony… overlooks the great room where Conal… Conal’s chained. Guard’s in there. Got me when… when I flew through and slammed me into the wall. Must’ve thought I was dead. Idiot was so busy watching Conal get tortured… didn’t see me crawl out.”
Maeve looked up at Helena, her eyes narrow and hard as green ice. “Punish them, my wolf.”
Helena showed the Mother all her many, many teeth and lifted the gun. “Oh, I will.” Even as Liam shut down the gate, she felt Maeve’s healing magic rise.
She padded toward the third door down as Liam contracted the stealth bubble again. Bending light and muffling sound burned a lot of magic, as did blocking incoming attacks, magical and otherwise. He was highly skilled in managing the spell’s power requirements.
As she reached the door, Liam’s power swung it open silently. Helena slipped inside, shotgun muzzle leading the way. The werewolf inside was a big, golden-furred bastard with his back to the door, leaning over the balcony railing to watch Conal’s torture.
Essus was right, Goldilocks was an idiot. She was tempted to shoot him, but he’d fall into the great room and blow her cover. She’d need a quieter weapon. Liam didn’t even need to be told. He transformed into a kukri knife -- eighteen inches long, with a blade that widened and curved toward the point with a shallow bend in the middle. Perfect. Nobody knew how to kill people like a death deity.
Helena slipped up behind the dire wolf. Liam dropped the bubble and she struck like a snake. As she whipped one hand around to grab the wolf’s muzzle and jerk his head back, the bubble snapped up around them again. She sliced her kukri across the werewolf’s throat before he could do more than flail. The bubble contained the gush of blood as she stepped back, dragging him down to the floor by the muzzle. But it’s hard to kill the Direkind, and he’d shift and heal given half a chance. Before the wolf could do more than glow, she lifted Liam and chopped the kukri down. The weapon had been designed for hacking a path through Indian jungle, and it took the wolf’s head off in one clean stroke.
More blood bounced off the bubble’s interior. Helena grimaced as it soaked her, though she’d gotten used to a certain amount of gore over the past few years… A lot of it had been her own.
Dropping the head, she rose and stepped over to the balcony railing, dreading what she’d see. She’d been trying to ignore the gritted screams. Ordinarily the neighbors would have called the cops, but given Conal’s thirty-acre estate, nobody was close enough to hear. Looking down, she flinched. “Oh, Christ.”