"A wolf?" Sam questioned, blinking her eyes rapidly to see if she was hallucinating. It wasn't everyday a girl saw a gorgon doing battle with a really big wolf. But she wasn't hallucinating, and the gorgon charged.
Sam gasped. The gorgon was both awesome and awful, a sight to make sore eyes. He had a beautiful face but a forked tongue. Claws extended from his fingers; long wicked claws. They weren't as long as Freddy Krueger's, who Sam felt could use a really good manicure, but long enough, and razor sharp.
In repulsed fascination Sam stared at Nero's head, which was misshapen from a full mane of snake hair. The snakes were hissing, coiling and uncoiling, and so his coif was a real fright.
"Talk about a bad hair day," Sam muttered to herself, and she withdrew the golden sword she'd hidden in her trench coat. That hair was just awful—appalling really, the poor monster. "You could use a real makeover, fang-bangs."
Hearing her words, the Meduse turned to face Sam fully, to judge the threat. Then he rapidly snapped his attention back to the snarling wolf, who was crouched low, ready to spring, white fangs glistening in the nearby lamplight.
Snarling, the black wolf charged, rushing low, his fangs sinking into the gorgon's thigh. Then he lept back keeping far enough away from the snake heads to prevent being bitten.
The gorgon howled in pain, and blood spurted from his wound. Reacting in rage and pain, he clawed the wolf in the lower right flank, scoring the skin with three deep gashes. Just at that moment, the unconscious woman regained consciousness. Wild-eyed and shrieking, she ran off into the night.
Now that the woman was gone, Sam didn't have to worry about protecting her anymore; she charged into the thick of the battle. Swinging her sword in a wide arc… she managed to miss the gorgon's neck by a good four inches.
Luckily, the sword did bite into the gorgon's back, and he howled with pain and rage. Retaliating swiftly, the Meduse caught Sam across her shoulder with a tremendous swipe, and knocked her on her butt.
She landed hard, jarring her spine, shooting radiating twinges of pain throughout her body. Scrambling for her sword she got painfully back to her feet, waiting for another chance to attack as the wolf barely missed being bitten by their enemy's dreadful locks.
Raising her sword to attack again, Sam muttered, "Next time Prince V. gets me a weapon, it damn well better be twenty pounds lighter."
The wolf bit hard into the gorgon's other side just as Sam charged. Unfortunately, her sword slipped just as she managed to raise it high enough to swing. This time, she clipped the gorgon on the arm.
Nero's reprisal was again swift. His blow caught her hard on the back and sent her crashing to the ground; this time she hit her forehead against the gritty pavement. Yep, the mean streets of New York were living up to their reputation tonight, she mused dimly.
Shaking her head, Sam rolled over, sword in hand and prepared to be caught by a snake in the ass. Stunned, she watched the gorgon spin around and run off into the cold, thick fog, hissing as he went and holding his torn and bloody side.
My, What Big Teeth You Have
Her vision blurred, Sam slowly maneuvered herself into a half-sitting position; she had just gotten her butt kicked good. At the same time she became aware of the enormous black wolf standing over her. What rotten luck, she thought grimly. She had survived an attack of a gorgon and lived to tell the tale, only to be eaten by big, bad wolf.
Too dazed to do much more, she raised her hands to defend her neck and face. But instead of ripping out her throat, the wolf edged closer and licked the cut on her forehead, whimpering.
His tongue felt like scratchy sandpaper, but somehow managed to be comforting. After he licked her forehead, the wolf laid his head in her lap, and Sam ran her fingers through his thick fur.
At the petting, the wolf seemed to sigh, then stuck his head in her crotch. About the same time, a dazed Sam put two and two together—Alex's clothing shredded on the wet, glistening pavement, the wolfs black hair and massive size, and the deep soulful gray eyes—and got four.
She was nobody's fool. Quickly recognizing the werewolf for who he was, she bopped him on the head. "Alex, if you sniff my crotch for one more second I'll rip out all your fur with my bare hands!"
The wolf crawled backward, his head lowered in a submissive pose.
Standing slowly, her body aching, Sam griped, "Oh give me a break. Cut the innocent act, Alex. You're about as blameless as Ivan the Terrible. And as you need obedience lessons, I'll take it up with Nic."
Alex whined.
Ignoring him, Sam smacked her forehead, forgetting momentarily about the sore spot. Pointing a finger at the guilty wolf, she berated him.
"You're a Russian werewolf in New York—another secret Nic didn't tell me! You're masters of sleazy secrets. You and your lying, sneaking pack of brothers. Damn! Where are my silver bullets when I need them?"
Alex ducked his head under his forepaw, his tail ceasing to thump.
"Nuts! I could really bust your chops. You and that lying dog of a brother. Why didn't you guys tell me you were werewolves? Damn, but you shapeshifters are a closemouthed bunch, aren't you? First Ripley, and now you. I can't believe Nic didn't tell me he's not human!"
Sam was off on the rant, and Alex whimpered again, his pose staying totally submissive.
"Don't duck your head, you four-pawed Judas! I'm on to your game."
Sam began to pace, jabbing an accusatory finger at Alex as she walked.
"I should have seen this coming a mile away. Cousin to a vampire, and really, really knowledgeable about the supernatural. That wild, musky scent that's all Nic. The way he made love to me like a wild animal. But then, he's ruled by his nature, isn't he? Yeah, that's right. The man's a wolf! Boy, would Charles Darwin have a field day with you guys!"
Alex nudged her leg, looking up at her with big puppy dog eyes, imploring her to forgive the family deception.
"I've always been a sucker for dogs," Sam admitted. "All right, all right. I know you probably saved my life. Saved by a werewolf from a gorgon—who would have thought it?" She shook her head, nudging Alex away again. "But I helped save your skin too, buster, so don't forget it. We're lucky to get out of here with our skins intact!"
Glancing down at Alex, she ruefully shook her head. "Of course, you didn't get out of here with your skin intact, since you're all furred up. Still, we're alive and kicking—or howling, as the case may be," she muttered.
Sam started to pace, giving the werewolf a long hard glare. "Nic should have told me. I'm a Paranormalbuster. I can keep a secret. I wouldn't have ratted you guys out to anybody."
Alex whined, looking sweet, which got to Sam again. "I know, I know! A werewolf's gotta do what a werewolf's gotta do. Well, so does a woman. I'm going to kill Nic. Leader of the pack or not, I'll rip into him like nobody's business! He's a werewolf in creep's clothing."
With those words, Alex changed back. His fur dispersed, his bones popped and his jaws receded, and Sam was stunned by the transformation's beauty. Golden light formed a halo around him.
Alex rose to a standing position, wincing. Glancing down at the marks on his right buttock, he fingered them. They were only long red scratches now, with purple bruising, due to the healing characteristics of his metabolism.
"This is going to be sore for a couple of days," he said.
Her arms across her chest, her stance militant, Sam looked anything but sympathetic. "I don't know, I kind of think it's justice. You yourself have been one big pain in the butt."
"Nic's going to kill me. You seeing me naked and all."
Sam shrugged dismissively, although the naked Strakhov was a fine specimen of male. "Like I care? You haven't got anything I haven't seen before." Tugging off her trench coat, she handed it to Alex, her silence damning.