Page 92 of Shades of Silver City

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

“You won’t.” Then, playing with fire, I say, “You’re supposed to bring me in alive.”

“Don’t even bother reading her rights,” the Scout says to the other. “Just cuff her.”

“What about the guy?” He nudges Archer with his boot.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” I growl.

“He only wants the girl. Leave the—” A strangled cry rips from his throat.

The other Scout whips toward his companion. The lamp on his helmet spotlights a large, black beast that has its fangs buried deep in the first Scout’s leg.

In a flash, the beast releases its grip and lunges toward the other man. A bang echoes through the night as the Scout fires his weapon, but the animal sinks its teeth into his arm, unaffected.

As quickly as the commotion started, the alley grows silent again. Both the Scouts are slumped over on the ground. Their chests still rise and fall, but they’re out cold.

I carefully step back, not wanting to instigate the beast.

Too late.

It pounces, and I scream, closing my eyes.

I wait for the pain to come—the savage puncture of teeth.

Giant paws land on my chest, and something wet swipes my cheek. I flick open my eyes to face the beast, only to find that it’s—

“Scathe?” I whisper. “Holy shit.”

I drop to my knees, wrapping my arms around the Shepherd’s furry neck and inhaling his sweaty canine scent. After a brief thanks, given in the form of good boys and pets, I take the Scouts’ weapons and slide them under Godric’s SUV, out of reach, and crawl over to Archer.

Placing two fingers on his wrist, I check his pulse.

It’s strong and steady.

Thank Sirius.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I pull his head into my lap and brush his bangs to the side. There’s a gnarly lump on his temple and a bloodied gash cutting across his forehead.

My stomach quivers with rage, but I swallow it down.

“Scathe,” I whisper. “Where’s Godric? Can you get Godric?”

His ear twitches, and for a second, I’m convinced he can understand me. But when he looses a low whine and steps up to us, nudging Archer’s hand with his snoot, I lose hope that he understood my request.

I glance at the Scouts. How long will they be out for?

I need to get Archer out of here. We’re stuck in a dead-end alley. I don’t have the keys to Godric’s SUV. Maybe if Archer has his phone on him, I can find Godric’s number and call him.

Patting down Archer’s leather jacket and jeans, I locate his phone. Using his thumb to unlock the screen, I open the contacts and scroll down to Godric’s name. I press the dial icon and let the phone ring.

No answer.

I call twice more.

Nothing.

I shoot him a quick text, letting him know it’s an emergency and Archer’s been hurt.

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