damage, but moved him back just enough for her to pull away and use her clubs.
The scent of Nymar blood was thick in the air as she used the sharpened ends to deliver one uppercut after another. Henry’s misshapen face swung back and forth like a speed bag but was tough enough to withstand her assault.
And then, like a gift from above, a bullet whipped through the air to tear off a chunk of Henry’s scalp. Backing up a few steps, Paige heard the sirens in the distance. She couldn’t see the flashing lights yet, which meant she still had a bit of time before adding the police to her laundry list of problems.
Henry’s torso swelled, and his ribs creaked outward to accommodate the swelling. He reared up and swung his loosely attached head to holler at Walter’s section of the park. When he started to turn toward Paige, she hopped sideways and then jumped forward with her left arm extended. The straight point of her left weapon dug into Henry’s skin, glanced off one rib, and tore a deep scratch into his side, which she used as a target for the sickle in her right hand. Her aim was true and the curved blade sank in almost a quarter of an inch.
Activity from the streets behind the parking structure was intensifying. Sirens blared, voices shouted over loudspeakers, and shots were fired.
Henry let out a pathetic whimper, took one limping step forward and then was hit in the side by another high- powered rifle round. That shot was followed by another, which dropped him to one knee. Paige circled around so she could get a look at Henry’s side without being in the line of fire. One more bullet whipped through the air and landed with a distinctive hiss as the round’s coating reacted with Henry’s Nymar-infested blood.
Paige took one of the syringes from her jacket pocket, popped off the cap and rushed toward Henry to give him the injection. When she slammed the syringe down on the wound, she felt the needle snap like brittle straw against him.
“All right,” she said as Henry snarled at the incoming sniper rounds. “Looks like I need to hit a softer spot.”
She dropped her left weapon back into its holster on her boot and focused her attention on the weapon in her right hand. Once the point of that stake was down to something close to a needle, she cocked it back, reached under her jacket at the small of her back, and twisted her body around in a tight circle. The lightning-fast movement snapped her arms around like whips. When her left hand emerged from beneath her jacket, it was wrapped around the handle of the Blood Blade. Her momentum allowed her to slice through the skin along Henry’s ribs and cut through several layers of hardened muscle. She drove her right arm forward to send the finely honed point of her stake directly into the deep wound she’d just made. Henry was already starting to heal, but Paige was just fast enough to drive the stake into the wound and bury it several inches between his ribs. From there, she closed her eyes and willed the impaled end of the weapon to split apart into three separate sections.
When Henry arched his back and let out a bellowing cry, Paige knew the weapon was doing its job. She could feel the petrified wood changing shape as if it was an extension of her own arm. While that should have been enough to bring Henry down, it was only adding fuel to his fire. She cocked her left arm back so she could do even more damage with the charmed blade. Before she could land the blow, however, the back of Henry’s fist caught her in the shoulder with enough power to knock her loose and pull the stake free. Because the stake had blossomed inside of him, however, it snagged muscle, tore flesh, and even chipped a few ribs on its way out.
For a moment Henry was dazed. He looked down at a hole in his side that was big enough to expose half his rib cage. A living flood of Nymar spore was spilling out of him. At least four of the slimy black things slipped out of his body, each one sending out gelatinous tendrils to grab hold of whatever they could to pull themselves back inside.
Paige grinned and retrieved the final syringe from her pocket. Closing her fist around the plastic tube, she buried the needle directly into one of the spores and jammed her thumb down on the plunger. The antidote was quickly absorbed by the Nymar spore, eating it from within and exploding outward to disperse the rest of the antidote among the remaining spores within Henry’s torso. One by one the spores sizzled and popped, until Henry’s entire system was exposed to the antidote.
For the next few seconds, Henry clawed at the ground and scraped at it with his feet. His mouth opened but he clamped it shut again and winced as the deadly process continued inside of him. When he lost the strength to hold himself up, he dropped to his belly and curled up so the hole in his side was facing the sky. The bulbous growths under his flesh had flattened to give his body a more familiar shape. And when the last Nymar within him was dead, the hole in Henry’s side began closing up. Already the blood flowing from him was losing its black, oily tint.
“Can you hear me, Paige?” It was the voice again. Now that she didn’t have an insane monster trying to rip her heart out, she could understand it a little better.
Touching her earpiece, she replied, “Yeah, Walter. We’ve got some cops headed our way.”
“I know. Misonyk’s dead, so get over here and we should be able to get out before things get too hot.”
“Great. Have you noticed what’s happening to Henry?”
After a slight pause, Walter said, “Looks like you got him. Great!”
Paige shook her head and took a tentative step toward Henry. Although some of the Nymar were still near the garage, they backed away as well. In a few more seconds they turned and bolted from the area like dogs that reflexively knew when it was time to cut and run. “It looks like Cole was right,” she whispered. “Henry is a Full Blood. Now that the Nymar’s out of him, that’s all that’s left.”
“Then kill him!” Walter shouted. “Do your Skinner thing and finish him off. Whoever or whatever the cops are shooting at, they’ll be at the garage in—”
“I realize what’s happening, Walter! But there’s something else—” Suddenly, a burning pain scorched Paige’s palm. She pulled her hand away from the earpiece as if she’d accidentally touched an open flame. The Nymar in the vicinity had made the scars from her weapons itch as if there were ants crawling beneath her skin. Henry’s presence had caused a reaction that was distinctive but muddled. This, however, was something much more powerful. It was also something that she’d only rarely felt before.
“Paige?” Walter said in a cautious whisper through her earpiece. “Look at the roof of the garage.”
When she looked up, Paige spotted a hulking form crouched on the edge of the roof. It glared down at her with brilliant, glittering eyes and let out a low growl that rolled like thunder through the cold night air.
Chapter 26
“A Full Blood?” Cole said. “I thought those things stuck to the woods!”
Walter had his scope trained on the massive shape that had appeared at the edge of the garage roof. Its fur was so black that it was difficult for him to make out an exact shape, but the brilliant eyes and long, massive fangs were more than enough to stand out from the shadows. As it leaned forward to part its lips in a warning snarl, the creature’s shape became even more distinctive against the somewhat lighter background of the cement roof. Its head and movements were those of a giant wolf, but its upper body had the mass of a grizzly bear.
“It’s a Full Blood, all right,” Walter said. “A big one too. That’s probably what scared away the rest of those Nymar.”
“Shouldn’t you shoot it or something?”
“My ammunition is treated for use against Nymar. I’d only piss it off.”
“Do you have any Full Blood rounds?” Cole asked hopefully.
“There are no Full Blood rounds.”
“Aw, shit.”
“Yes,” Walter replied calmly. “I’d have to agree.” He tapped his earpiece and said, “You see it, Paige?”
“I see it,” she replied in a harsh whisper. “The Nymar saw it, and soon a whole lot of cops will see it too.”
“How’s your armor?” Walter asked.
Paige felt the shredded remains of her vest. Beneath the tattered outer layers, there were a few strands of fur attached to uneven ribbons of werewolf hide. “Just enough left to get me in trouble,” she said while removing the vest and tossing it, with the hope that the Full Blood didn’t already know she’d worn the skin of its distant brethren.
The Full Blood gripped the edge of the roof with thick, yellowed claws. Though it was hardly moving, it held on
