23

I HADN'T REALLY understood that it wasn't just me being a girl that kept me from volunteering for slugfests with wereanimals and vampires. It was that I was a small girl. Claudia wasn't.

She was taller than Haven. Her legs were longer. His arms were longer, but the legs are what give you reach in martial arts. She had the reach. She used it to force him to block again and again. The only way I was able to be certain which blow belonged to which was that her arms and legs were darker and his were paler, their skin tones turned into a visual Doppler effect by the unbelievable speed.

I climbed back over the fallen couch to get farther away from the fight. Keeping an eye on them so I didn't get someone else thrown on top of me made me trip. I fell into a little heap of clothes and found the only hard metal to land on in all that softness. I put the wrist-sheath blade back in its sheath as I dug another stray gun out from under me. It was a .357 Magnum. Who the hell was big enough to carry that concealed?

Nathaniel and Travis were kneeling by Rosamond and Kelly. Kelly was just unconscious, but Rosamond should have gotten up by now. Could a wereanimal die of a broken neck, or a cracked skull? I'd have said no, but I really didn't know. I was so used to the really powerful shifters who could survive nearly anything that I just didn't know about someone at Rosamond's lower power level. I didn't know where Noel was, but as long as he was far away from Haven, it had to be better.

There was a moment of clarity in the fight. A moment where I saw Claudia's foot connect with Haven's body and he was airborne. I felt the air as he went past. The sound of him hitting the far wall was a thick, meaty crash. Claudia rushed past me over the ruins of the couch to finish it.

A gunshot thundered through the room, echoing off the bare stone walls. I was turning toward the sound, the .357 in my hand. I had time to  see Haven crumpled against the wall coughing blood. Claudia was on the ground. Her left arm hung useless; blood was pulsing out. It was one of those moments where the world slows down as if everything is caught in crystal. Things are hard-edged, as if your eyes will cut the images into your brain forever. Haven brought the gun up again to aim at Claudia on the floor. I was aiming at him but didn't have the shot yet. I screamed his name: "Haven!"

It made him hesitate for a fraction of a second. His eyes flicked to me, and then the world sped up and everything happened at once. He pulled the trigger and so did I. The force of the big gun's recoil made me end up pointing it at the ceiling before I could bring it back down to aim again.

His chest had a hole in it, but he was still bringing his gun around to aim at me. Whoever shot first would win. I didn't even have time to be scared or worried; all my concentration narrowed down to aiming, breath held, and I pulled the trigger. His gun exploded just behind mine. I heard the whine of the bullet and flinched as it hit the couch next to my head. Haven's chest blossomed crimson like an evil flower. Incredibly, his arm came back around one more time to point at me. I wasn't going to be able to aim the .357 again, not in time. I let the recoil of the gun take me up, come back down, and was trying to aim, even as I knew I wasn't going to be fast enough.

His gun fired wide and I got off that third shot, but my shoulder went numb, and I thought, Oh, I'm hit, but I made my shot and other guns echoed mine. I didn't bother to turn around. If they were shooting at me, I was dead; if they were shooting at Haven, great. I focused on making my shot count. My shoulder wasn't working quite right, but I could use it. I'd worry about it later.

Haven's body jerked as bullets hit him. I wasn't sure which hit was mine and which wasn't. We all aimed at center body, and that beautiful muscled chest and stomach became a red ruin.

I couldn't hear anything. My ears were ringing from all the shots. When someone touched my shoulder I jumped and started to bring the gun around. Wicked pinned my arm and the gun in his big hand. His mouth was moving. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but when he took the gun out of my hand, I let him do it.

I looked at my left shoulder but there was no blood. It hurt, but I couldn't see a wound. Wicked was still talking to me, and I still couldn't understand him, as he helped me to my feet. There were people rushing  past us with drawn guns, headed toward Haven. Fredo was kneeling by Claudia. I asked, "Claudia - is she all right?" I had no idea how loud or soft I was talking. I couldn't tell.

Wicked shook his head, his wet blond hair clinging to his face as if he hadn't bothered to dry it. He was dressed. He was turning me away from Claudia, and I fought his grip to go check on her, but he tightened his grip. Did he not want me to see her? How bad was she hurt? Then he turned me enough for me to see that Noel was lying on his back, his chest covered in blood. I started forward, and then the crowd moved enough for me to realize they were kneeling by another body. Long auburn hair trailed out from between them. I knew now why my shoulder hurt, but there was no wound.

I was moving forward, shaking Wicked's hand away. In that moment if someone had wanted to shoot me, they could have, because I forgot everything but Nathaniel.

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