Wolf Island (The Demonata 8)

“That’s fine.” I smile warmly and shake his hand, but lightly, aware that I could crack his fingers like twigs if I squeezed too hard. “Thanks, Timas. We wouldn’t have made it off the island without you.”

“I know,” he says, then turns to Meera. “Time to make good on that promise.”

“What promise?” Meera squints.

Timas grabs her and bends her backwards, supporting her with one arm. “A kiss for your sweet prince,” he murmurs, smooching up to her.

Meera pretends to struggle, but then grins and treats him to a kiss that’s even hotter than Shark’s curses. It’s an old style movie kiss, except with more slurping and tongue action.

“Break it up,” I growl.

The pair come up for air, their faces red.

“That was nice,” Timas gasps.

“Very,” Meera agrees, and pecks his nose. “To be continued,” she purrs, then turns from him with the natural grace of a model and sashays away.

“See you soon,” I mutter.

“Extremely soon.” Timas nods and hits the road, snapping his fingers like a hepcat.

Meera’s on her cell for most of the trip to the airport, deep in conversation with some of her fellow Disciples. Her face is creased with worry when she cuts the connection.

“Bad news?” I ask.

“There are reports of three potential crossings,” she says. “All in major cities. The windows are due to open within the next forty-eight hours unless we can find the mages responsible and stop them.”

“Three at the same time,” I mutter. “Hardly coincidence.”

“No,” Meera snorts. “One’s in the city where Dervish and Bec are.”

“So Juni must already know that Antoine’s troops failed.”

“I hoped we’d have more time, but apparently not.” Meera sighs. “I’ll arrange to have them moved as soon as possible.”

“No.” My face is stone. “Let the demons come. I’ll deal with them. It’ll be a good opportunity to test my pack.”

“Are you sure?” Meera frowns. “Juni and her masters want the pieces of the Kah-Gash. If you and Bec are in the same spot, they’ll have a double shot at it. Maybe you should stay away from her until —”

“No,” I growl. “No more running. They want a fight? I’ll give them one they won’t forget in a hurry.”

“Juni beat you once,” Meera reminds me.

“She won’t again,” I whisper. Not because I believe I can turn the tables on her, but because she doesn’t want to. She needs me to destroy the universe.

“Grubbs?” Meera says softly. “Why didn’t Juni finish you off?”

I don’t answer. Thinking about what the mutant monster predicted. Wondering, not if it might be true, but rather how it will happen and when.

“Grubbs?” Meera says again.

I shake myself. “It doesn’t matter. Are you coming?”

Meera sighs. “No. I want to, but I’m needed elsewhere. I can be of more use in the other cities, either help find the mages and kill them, or try to drive back the demons if they cross. I think we’re all going to have to work very hard over the next few days to prevent a massacre that makes the losses on Wolf Island look like a drop in the ocean.”

“I’ll come when I can,” I promise. “Tell the other Disciples that if they fail — if demons break through — I’ll mop up. Once I’ve dealt with those coming to attack Dervish and Bec, I’ll go wherever I’m needed and I’ll bring my werewolves. We can fight them now. We don’t need to be afraid.”

“You idiot,” Meera chuckles. “Of course we do.” She hugs me tight, then stands on her toes, hauls my head down, and kisses my coarse, hairy cheek, ignoring the bits of human flesh caught between my fangs and the stench of blood on my breath.