His beast champing at the bit to be released, he fought to contain it, his skin rippling with hair already sprouting through. Gritting his teeth, he forced his change down, allowing it to simmer just beneath the surface in case he needed to call on his Wolf quickly.
His long legs powering across the ground, thigh muscles tightening as he ran, anticipation rushing through him as their quarry was finally within their grasp. He only hoped his mate would get her wish and the death of the Witch would grant her some closure. Rafe also hoped he’d be the one to deliver the death blow to the asshole.
As they neared the Witch’s hideout, sounds of battling Wolves erupted in the night air, not surprising as Zohar’s men had gone ahead to clear the way. What did surprise Rafe was Sherman. Somehow the small, rotund man had kept pace with them. How he’d managed that feat was beyond him, but he had, and the Witch didn’t even seem out of breath. Maybe he’d used magic. No matter.
What did matter was that Sherman was right there with them as they raced through the final brush into a wide open area. Zohar’s men cleared the way, with more than a few dead rogues littering the ground. Rafe’s eyes spun around, taking everything in, the cabin off to the side had also been breached. The door hanging off its hinges, blood and bodies clearly visible.
Zohar’s Wolves were good. It had only been minutes, but they’d attacked and killed the opposition quickly and efficiently. It looked like this was going just the way they’d planned. Rafe grinned as they slowed to a walk, closing in on the main house.
And that’s when things went to hell in a fucking handbasket. He’d never been so damn grateful that he’d put his foot down and forced Tasha to stay behind because right now they were all in a heap load of shit.
The door to the house came flying off, yes, flying as in off the hinges and up into the air. It rose about twenty feet, at what appeared supersonic speed then crashed into a group of Zohar’s men. Some in human form and a few in Wolf form, howls and yells rising in the night air as the solid oak knocked them for six. The sound of broken bones and the scent of blood rising around them.
Shit. One guy’s head lay at a godawful angle. He was definitely not getting up again. Not in this life anyway. Zohar slid to a stop, Rafe barely stopping himself barreling into him as Sherman cursed loudly.
“What the fuck?”
Rafe kept his eyes on the gaping hole where the door used to be, a dark figure emerging, bathed in a blue light. “Shit,” he mumbled at the sight.
The man that appeared seemed to be floating, his hair sticking out all around, crackles of lightning sparking from the ends of his dark hair and his outstretched hands. His face looked stranger still. Eyes wild, mouth open with that weird blue light visible inside, all the way down his throat. Jeez, it was like a vision from a horror movie. One he didn’t want to be witnessing in real life.
Magic. Rafe freaking hated magic.
Sherman stepped forward, shaking his head and muttering. “Theatrics, why do they always go for theatrics. Amateur.”
Rafe looked at the small man, then at the dreadful vision descending toward them. Sherman had balls of steel in his opinion.
“I’ll give you one choice.” Sherman raised his voice to be heard over the noise of the crackling electricity. “Cut the crap or suffer the consequences.”
Rafe stifled a chuckle. It wasn’t exactly what he expected Sherman to say. Watching intently as the man they’d come for lowered to the ground but otherwise nothing else changed. Rafe kept his eyes glued to the sparking electricity, feeling waves of energy wafting toward him.
Sherman sighed. “So be it.”
The next second a bolt of energy flew toward them from the man they’d hunted down, Rafe dropped to the ground but Zohar was a split second too late. He was blasted in the chest, lifted up off his feet and flown backward to land on his ass. He then tumbled head over heels to land with a loud gasp as the air was knocked out of him before he sat up, dusting himself off and snarling. Zohar sprang to his feet and rushed forward but Sherman shook his head, warning him not to go any closer. The Enforcer did not look happy.
“You all right?” Rafe asked, trying not to grin. Admittedly he didn’t try too hard.
Zohar didn’t reply, merely grunted before he snarled at Sherman. “Can we deal with this asshole now? That is why you’re here isn’t it?”
Sherman glanced up, squinting. “Indeed, but I didn’t see Rafe being knocked on his ass.”
Zohar looked like he was about to explode, his face red, like one of those cartoon characters. All it needed was for steam to pour from his ears and he’d be all set.
“Right, let’s remove you of those powers.” Sherman almost sang as his hands seemed to dance in the air, strange words flying out his mouth. He reached inside his jacket, pulling out a small green silk pouch. Holding with one hand he quickly stuck two fingers in and out, pinching something or other between them, before the pouch disappeared. He spoke faster, hands moving together again, his feet moving toward his foe quickly.
Rafe followed, scared the smaller man was putting himself in danger. Sherman stopped barely a few feet from the man and this close Rafe could see pure evil staring back at him. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on this fuck.
Sherman continued his incantation, his voice rising to a crescendo before finally throwing whatever he held in his fingers into the much taller man’s face. The result was startling and instant.
The figure was no longer threatening. All signs of the electrical power he’d
