Chapter Forty-Four
McCain roared in pain as I sunk my fangs into his shoulder like a set of knives. He twisted above me as he tried to shake me off, but I clamped my jaws down hard. He swiped at me with his paws and missed. This seemed to heighten his anger and he bellowed in rage. I didn’t know for how much longer I could keep hold of him. I knew that as soon as I released him, he would rip my head off and that would really kill me. I doubted that the Elders would give me another chance — and if I were honest with myself — I wouldn’t have wanted one. The next time I died, I wanted to stay dead — just not yet.
With the muscles in my jaw beginning to ache, I knew that it would only be moments before I lost my hold on him. Then, from the corner of my eye I saw Isidor sweeping across the hall, his crossbow trained on McCain. If he fired, I knew that McCain would be dead and I didn’t want that. So, removing my fangs from McCain’s shoulder, I screamed, “No, Isidor. Don’t kill him!”
McCain seized his chance and lunged at my face, his teeth like spikes. I shut my eyes and waited for the pain, but it never came. Suddenly, I felt weightless as I was dragged out from beneath the wolf and thrown backwards through the air. Without having to even think about it, my wings sprung open, those little black claws opening and closing, as if glad to be free again. Hovering in the air, I looked down to see that it was Potter who had yanked me from beneath McCain. In the flashes of light, Potter seemed to flit to and fro around McCain. I could see that his chest looked like it had been almost ripped to pieces. He was soaked in blood and his wings looked as if Edward Scissorhands had been at him. But still he didn’t stop fighting with the last remaining wolves. His arms worked like pistons as he punched, swiped, and stabbed at the wolves that lunged for him.
From above, I watched as one of the wolves, that just moments ago looked as if it was dead, scrambled back to its feet and raced across the chapel towards Potter. With my wings pointed behind me, I dropped through the air like a stone. When I was within reaching distance, I raked my claws down the length of the wolf’s back, removing a ragged flap of fur-covered flesh. I spun away, and glancing back over my shoulder, I could see the wolf’s spine and ribcage glistening wetly up at me. Then, the wolf collapsed, as if its legs had just been kicked from beneath it.
Spinning around amongst the wood beams that held the ceiling together, I looked down to see McCain roll over onto his paws. He spotted Isidor and bounded towards him. Isidor instinctively raised his crossbow. Then, as if remembering that I’d told him not to kill McCain, he lowered it again. In that moment of hesitation, McCain was on him. With one mighty swipe, McCain knocked him from his feet and sent Isidor smashing into the chapel wall. The whole building shook, sending dirt and dust showering down from the beams above me. Stunned, Isidor slid down the wall and onto the floor as McCain smothered him. I shot down and arrived on the floor just as Potter saw the trouble Isidor was in. Within an instant, he was on McCain, who had opened a hole in Isidor’s chest with one of his giant claws. Isidor cried out and dropped to the floor, blood pumping from him.
Potter looked down at Isidor as he lay bleeding. Looking at McCain, Potter shook his head, and said, “Big mistake. The kid’s my friend.” Then, he went berserk.
As a wolf, McCain was a giant, as big as a bear. His head sat between two colossal shoulders that rippled with muscle. His eyes seared like two burning moons in his skull. His gaping jaws hung open, revealing his blood- stained teeth. Potter launched himself at McCain with such ferocity that the wolf flew backwards through the air. Before McCain had even landed, Potter was racing towards him with his tattered wings. He grabbed hold of McCain in mid-air and spun around. The wolf’s long, bushy tail whisked upwards as if trying to knock Potter free of him. He rolled his head back, his ferocious teeth gnashing just inches from Potter’s face.
Isidor groaned beside me, a claw pressed to his chest. “Help Potter,” he said.
“Are you okay?” I asked, watching the blood begin to congeal around the claw covering his chest.
“Just help him,” he said, closing his eyes.
With my wings spread, and their little claws grabbing at the air, I shot towards Potter as he continued to struggle with McCain.
“What kept you?” Potter growled, as he tried to drag McCain back towards the dance floor.
“You looked like you were having such fun!” I shot back, gripping McCain’s tail and dragging him down. The wolf kicked wildly with its powerful back legs. I dodged left and right to avoid them striking me.
The three of us smashed into the floor, the sound of wooden boards splintering beneath us. Taking McCain’s skull in his claws, Potter smashed it repeatedly into the dance floor. Dust and splinters of wood shot up like there were a series of timed explosions going off beneath us. I looked into the wolf’s eyes and could see that the light in them was fading. McCain’s tongue lolled from the corner of his mouth as he howled in pain.
Once Potter had McCain subdued, he coiled his arms around his neck and held him in a headlock. McCain’s tongue twitched like a rattlesnake as Potter applied pressure to the wolf’s throat.
“Don’t kill him,” I shouted. “We need him alive.”
Potter glared up at me, his teeth locked together as he tightened his grip.
“Potter!” I hissed. “Don’t you dare.”
“He’s a murderer!” Potter roared. “He steals the souls of children!”
“Killing him won’t stop that,” I shouted. “We have to get Banner to show the world that video. Show them what the wolves, like McCain, have been doing — what they are capable of.”
Potter locked eyes with me, then slowly he loosened his hold on McCain and as he did, the wolf began to change. I watched as its face twisted and contorted. Its legs shrunk in size and took on human form. McCain cried out as if in pain and his eyes rolled in their sockets. His claws looked like they were being sucked back into his fingers. Potter released him. We both looked down at McCain as he lay panting, his hands to his throat.
“I haven’t murdered anyone,” he snarled.
“Well I’ve got evidence that says different,” I spat.
“What now?” Potter asked me.
“We take him to Banner,” I said.
Holding out his hand, Potter looked at me and said, “Handcuffs?”
“You know I don’t have any handcuffs,” I said, flashing him a false smile.
Then, without warning, Potter stamped down on McCain’s leg. The sound of his ankle snapping was sickening. “What did you do that for?” I gasped.
“It’s a long way back into town. We don’t want him running away from us.” Then reaching down, he dragged McCain to his feet.
McCain screamed out in pain, the tendons in his neck standing out through his white skin.
I stood and watched Potter drag McCain across the dance floor and out towards the splintered doorway. McCain’s screams were deafening, and the thumping music did nothing to mask them. I turned and ran back across the chapel to Isidor, who had managed to pull himself up into a sitting position.
“How are you doing?” I asked, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.
“Okay, I guess,” Isidor winced. “I think the wound is healing.
“Let me have a look,” I said, opening his coat. Where there was once a gaping hole, was now a purple and black knotted lump of dead flesh. But there was something else. The skin around the wound looked as if it were cracking, like a shattered piece of stone.
Covering it with his coat, I hoisted Isidor to his feet and helped him from the chapel. We stepped out into the night, to find Potter holding onto the groaning McCain, and Kayla who was holding an unconscious looking boy in her arms.
“I haven’t murdered anyone,” McCain continued to protest.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll break your other leg,” Potter snapped. “Christ, I need a cigarette,” he added.
I headed towards Kayla who held the boy. His face was hideously disfigured. “This is Sam, the boy you told us about, isn’t it?” I asked her.
She nodded her head, and looked down at him. “Can we take him with us?”
Before I’d had a chance to say anything, Potter shouted, “No way. No more hanger-ons.”
Ignoring him, Kayla looked up into my eyes and said, “Please, Kiera, we can’t just leave him.”
“We’ll take him to the nearest hospital, but that’s as far as we take him,” I told her softly. “Potter is right, we
