Without Kelly, she would never have survived.
A chilling growl snapped her back to the present. The silver dog sprang to his feet, the ginger dog still attached to his neck, but not for long. The silver dog surged to the side, yanking himself free. The two animals stood facing each other, breath escaping their mouths in rasping pants, clumps of silver hair dangling from the ginger dog’s mouth. In unison, they lowered their heads and charged forward. Their bodies collided in another swirl of fur and teeth, the pair pushing closer and closer to Kara as the silver animal overpowered the ginger one.
Scrambling to get out of their way, Kara slipped on the damp pavement, from snow or blood she couldn’t tell, sending her cell phone dancing across the lot. She watched it, her stomach clenching at the sight. No Kelly to save her and now no hope of calling anyone else.
The silver dog shoved the ginger one against the outside of the bar building, inches from Kara. With one last snarl, he pinned the smaller animal to the ground, grabbed it by the neck — then rotating his massive body, tossed the ginger dog across the parking lot.
The animal landed in a crumpled heap in the darkest part of the lot. The silver dog waited on stiff legs, his body tense, then apparently content his competition was beaten, turned his glowing eyes on Kara. Blood mingled with saliva, falling from his open jaws in a steady drip.
Kara’s gaze dashed around the lot searching for an escape. The silver dog stood between her and the street where her ancient Honda sat. She was trapped between him, two brick buildings, and a six-foot-tall chain-link fence. Her phone was six feet away. She had completed the dial. A 9-1-1 operator wouldn’t just hang up, would they? Could whoever was on the other end of the line hear her?
“We are at the Guardian’s Keep. Did you know that, doggy?” Kara spoke as loud as she could, her voice rough with fear. “It’s a bar, near the lake. Not a good neighborhood at all.”
Sweat trickled down Kara’s back, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the beast in front of her could hear it, too.
The dog’s pants slowed until they were barely a whisper in the still night. Nothing else broke the quiet — no bar patrons stumbling out to their cars, no sirens answering her call, no Kelly rushing in from nowhere to rescue her. It was just Kara all alone with no one to save her but herself.
Kara stared at the massive animal in front of her. Damn it. She wouldn’t die now. She’d survived too much, and she still had to find Kelly. If she could survive this, anything was possible. Maybe there was still hope. There had to be.
The dog tilted his head as if thinking.
“Not a place a woman should come by herself — the Guardian’s Keep,” she repeated, her voice stronger. “But who knew rabid dogs were running loose? Is that your problem, doggy? Don’t feel well?”
The dog wrinkled his nose. She could have sworn it was in a snort. Crazy. She was going crazy.
She shook off the instant of weakness. No time for doubts. She had to do something, so she edged an inch closer to the phone. At the movement, the dog moved closer, too.
Kara froze. She still had the Mace. Would it stop over two hundred pounds of rabid dog? She doubted it, but she would try.
The dog took another step. Kara positioned her finger over the spray can, her hand trembling so badly she almost dropped it. She wrapped her other hand around the metal cylinder, then concentrated on the dog and her last chance at life. Not close enough yet. One shot. She would get one shot. Spray and run. That was it.
Something moved behind the silver animal — the ginger dog teetering to his feet.
Kara bit her lip. If they got into another fight, farther away, she could use that time to escape. “Looks like your friend’s awake, buddy.” She nodded toward the ginger dog. It shook its head as if trying to reorient itself.
To her surprise the silver dog seemed to understand her, he glanced over his shoulder at the other animal. Kara rose onto the balls of her feet in a crouch — ready to run.
The ginger dog glared at them both. Kara held her breath, hope flickering in her chest. Then in a shimmer — like heat rising off hot asphalt on a summer day — the animal disappeared.
Kara gave a quick intake of breath. She was crazy. Lock-her-up, throw-away-the-key crazy.
Would anyone be surprised?
The silver dog turned back to Kara, and she could have sworn he was smiling. Glimmering eyes focused on her, he padded closer.
Hatred poured into Kara. A dog had killed her friend, would she let one kill her, too? Crazy or not, Kara wouldn’t make it easy. Not this time.
She waited until he was a couple arms’ lengths away then pressed the spray nozzle. The dog barely blinked.
Tossing the empty can away, Kara lunged to the side. The dog cut her off, knocking her to the ground and standing over her just as he had the ginger dog.
If Kara believed in God, this would have been a good time to pray. Instead she stared up at the animal, trying to ignore the unsettling eyes that seemed to burn into her. Where were the police?
In her delirium, she heard a reply in her head. “No one’s coming. Not in time. Relax. Fighting will only make it worse.”
How funny, the giant dog was telling her to relax. A hysterical giggle formed in her throat. A throat about to be crushed and torn until no sound could escape. The giggle bubbled upward, sounding foreign and unreal to her ears.
God, how embarrassing. Faced with death, and she giggled. Kelly never giggled.
The dog leaned down, pressed his nose to her mouth and exhaled. She twisted her head to the side, but there was nowhere to go. Hot breath filled her lungs.
Oh, Kelly, I’m sorry.
Everything faded to black.
Lusse stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her mountain home. But even the cold starkness of the scenery couldn’t soothe her today.
Risk should have returned by now.
His mission had been simple — the girl didn’t even realize her own power. It would be like crushing a still- blind puppy — easy, but also rewarding.
Except Lusse didn’t need the girl crushed, not yet. Not until Lusse’d drained her of any power she held. But Lusse did need Risk to obey her.
He had potential to be great. The most powerful alpha her pack of hellhounds had ever answered to, but an annoying thread of humanity weakened him. Lusse had been patient, waiting almost five hundred years for him to lose the tendency on his own, but with the exception of one slight slip over a score of years ago, he’d stubbornly refused to embrace his demon nature. If anything, that slip had actually strengthened his resolve. Finally, she’d faced reality. He needed a few pointed prods to help find his way.
She sighed. Hellhounds. Her domination of them was one of her greatest strengths and also one of her greatest trials. Praise Yggdrasil, there were some paybacks. A shiver of pleasure danced up her spine as her finger reached out to flick the silver manacles that hung from her gilded ceiling.
After six months of confinement in the kennels with the others, daily training…her lips curved in a wistful smile…and the threat of taking the inconsequential piece of territory he thought of as his in the human world, she’d believed she had him under control.
But now she was beginning to wonder.
“Bader.” She spoke in a normal tone. Even though her servant was elsewhere in the mansion, he would hear her.
Within minutes the old servant shuffled into the room.
“Have you heard from Risk?” she asked in the most casual tone she could muster.
Before he could reply, she stopped him. “Don’t answer. Of course, you haven’t. If you had, you would have told me. Correct?” She raised one elegant brow.
He nodded.
No Risk and no innocent. Luckily she’d planned for such a problem.
