Great. More to clean up.
Her spirit self snarled and rose inside of her. Grace’s blood pumped harder as her fangs descended into her mouth. He looked at her, startled for a moment, and then smiled.
“A female alpha shifter. I’ve never had alpha before.”
“Dude. Let the girl go before we get kicked out,” said one of the other guys. “You know whose club this is?”
“I don’t care,” said the male. “I’m not letting go until I’m paid.”
He leaned into her throat, and Grace’s patience snapped.
She grabbed him by the hair, letting her nails lengthen. “You really don’t want to do that.”
“Yeah. And who is going to stop me? You? I don’t think so. Do you know how old I am?”
“From how you act, I would say you are newly turned.”
“Bitch.” He raised his hand to strike her, but Grace grabbed it mid-air and shook her head.
“You really are an asshole.” Grace squeezed his wrist in her grip, and after a moment, the bone shattered.
The vampire cried out and backhanded Grace with his free hand.
A roar sounded from the doorway, and Grace didn’t need to see him to know who it was. She’d never heard his wolf before, but she knew him instinctively. The timber of his call. The rage. The pain.
Grace moved to stop Fenrir, but she halted at the sight of him. Hair sprouted over his limbs and face. His teeth were elongated and razor-sharp. His eyes had turned completely black, and his nails were the size of scissor blades. The part that hit her the most was that he was still on two feet. He hadn’t completely shifted to wolf form.
The vampire looked over his shoulder too late. Fenrir had leaped over the large wooden table, knocking glasses and food in every direction. He grabbed the vampire by the throat and flung him into the far wall like a straw scarecrow.
“I warned you, guys, that my boyfriend was a badass werewolf,” she yelled.
The other vampires jumped to their friend’s defense and attacked, but Fenrir was too strong, and the rage in his eyes told Grace everything she needed to know. There was about to be a bloodbath.
“Fen!” she shouted. “Don’t!”
But he didn’t hear her. The vampires came at him and attacked as a group.
Suddenly a raven flew into the room and landed atop one of the hanging Edison lights. He squawked, but no one seemed to notice him except for Grace.
Grace’s spirit roared in rage, and she jumped into the fray. Grabbing the first vampire by the shoulders, she tossed him off Fenrir as Fenrir grabbed another and ripped his arm out of its socket, dislocating it. The man screamed and dropped to the ground. A vampire bit Fenrir’s neck and Fenrir lifted him above his head before dropping him to the floor and stomping on his face. Fenrir’s t-shirt split as his form morphed and grew larger.
Holy Hel!How big was Fenrir’s wolf? Not good. This was not good. She was getting fired for sure.
“Fen!” Grace yelled his name again. “Stop. I got this.”
Two vampires scrambled out of the room as the one who had attacked Grace got up off the floor and dove for Fenrir, his broken arm wholly healed. Fenrir swiped with his claws and slashed the vampire’s chest open. He staggered backward, and Fenrir advanced, slashing him again and again. Blood splashed the walls and the ceiling, the smell making Grace’s stomach roil.
The remaining dancers screamed and raced off the stage.
“Fen, stop!” Grace shouted above the music.
The vampire whose beer she’d spilled emerged from one of the corners and brandished a knife. He raced at Fenrir, but Grace got there first, and the blade lodged between her shoulder blades. The metal burned and seared her skin. She cried out as she spun in a circle, trying to dislodge it.
Fenrir roared as if he’d been struck himself and turned. He grabbed Grace as she crumpled to the floor.
Suddenly, thunder crackled in the room. The vampire’s eyes widened, and then he lit up like a Mardi Gras float before his skin went black and turned to ash.
Odin stood where the vampire had been, a spear in hand and a raven on his shoulder.