“Clear,” I said.
“Clear,” Gail replied.
We walked slowly, side by side, toward the far end of the patio. Motion sensor lights activated when we neared the edge of the yard. The specter hovered there, waiting. When we were almost there, the specter drifted left, across the wide lawn toward the trees.
Suddenly, we heard the booming of at least two shotguns somewhere ahead around the side of the house. I looked at Gail and she nodded. We broke into a trot, following the specter toward the corner of the yard.
Somewhere ahead a man screamed in pain and a shotgun blasted again.
We reached the corner of the house. In the yellow glow of a couple more of the motion-activated lights, we saw the Morenos and two werewolves. Javier was down with a wolf atop him; his dog lay unmoving in the grass near him. Marta had her back against the house and was frantically firing at the other wolf. Then she threw down the empty shotgun and drew a machete.
Boom! I aimed wide to avoid any buckshot hitting Marta and the werewolf attacking her yelped in pain and spun toward me.
Boom! Gail’s shotgun fired as the were dodged to the side.
Boom! I fired again as it leapt in the opposite direction, away from Marta and toward the forest.
Boom! Gail fired again and the werewolf tumbled face down into the grass. Before I could fire again, it rolled back to its feet and leapt into the shrubbery beneath the nearest trees.
I felt Gail digging into my side pocket for more shells as I racked another round and drew a bead on the werewolf crouching over Javier. It had stopped attacking him and was growling at us.
Marta rushed it, her huge knife raised over her head. She ran right into my line of fire.
“Marta! Get down,” I bellowed.
Either she didn’t hear me or she was too caught up in protecting her brother. The were lunged at her. She swung her knife at its throat. The beast avoided it and slashed at her with a forepaw. Marta went sprawling and the were leapt toward the forest where the first wolf had disappeared.
Boom! Boom! Gail and I fired simultaneously. The werewolf was knocked ass over teakettle in the grass.
“Watch the woods,” Gail said and I heard her break open the double barrel and load a fresh round. We crept forward toward Marta, watching for any sign of the, hopefully, last werewolf. Marta was getting to her feet. She held her right hand over her left shoulder and blood seeped between her fingers.
“What the hell, Jesse? We were here for a spirit. What are werewolves doing here?” Marta asked. She had turned back toward Javier, who wasn’t moving.
“Beats me,” I lied. What could I say that wouldn’t reveal Gail’s condition? I felt some guilt over letting the Morenos walk into this, but Gail was my partner. I had to protect her over anyone else, besides we hadn’t known Montgomery was the packmaster until we got here either.
“How’s Javier?” Gail asked.
Marta dropped to her knees in the grass and began to sob. That answered Gail’s question.
Ahead of me, in the grass, the body of the werewolf changed into a feminine form. Its face was intact enough to identify Jean Spangler. That left us still needing the packmaster. He was obviously superior to any of the other members of his pack. He’d been lucky in Huntsville and now he’d avoided dying again. Surviving once might have been luck, surviving a second time indicated more skill than luck.
“What now?” I asked Gail. “Do we try to track him in the dark or do we get Marta out of here?”
Gail frowned and glanced at Marta. Then Gail shook her head and said, “We don’t hunt werewolves in the dark woods. We’ll find him later. Let’s help Marta. We know his name; he can’t escape for long.”
“Okay by me. You watch, I’ll help Marta,” I said.
I walked to where Marta still knelt by her dead brother. I put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at me. “We can’t help him, but we can still help you. Come on.”
“We can’t leave Javier,” Marta said as she rose.
“It’s more important that we get you treated.”
“No, we don’t leave our own,” Marta argued.
“She’s right, Hoss,” Gail said. “We owe him a hunter’s funeral. Do you think you can carry him?”
I was already carrying two backpacks and a shotgun, but what the hell, it was a short walk to the front of the house. “Okay, Marta, help Gail watch for the last werewolf and I’ll carry Javier.”
I passed my shotgun to Marta, who took it weakly in her left hand. Blood had run down her arm and soaked her hands. Her grip couldn’t be that good. I bent, trying to ignore the sight of Javier’s mortal wounds, and slipped my right arm under his legs and my left under his shoulders. Lifting, I stood slowly and then arranged his weight in my arms. “I’ve got him. Lead the way.”
Marta started for the front of the house with me following. I glanced back once and saw Gail following. She spent most of her time watching the shrubbery behind us. For the first time I realized the specter had disappeared again.
We made it to the front of the house without seeing any signs of Montgomery. I wondered if, like in Huntsville, he’d fled to save his own hide. The Morenos’ pickup wasn’t in sight, so I carried Javier to Gail’s van and waited while Marta set the shotgun down and
