Page 71 of Cry of the Firebird

The creature raised its clawed hand to strike her down when a black wolf knocked her aside. She fell to the ground and rolled back to her feet. Izrayl tore through her attacker's throat. It lay gargling as Izrayl padded towards her, his black face shiny with gore. Another pale-faced creature appeared behind him.

"Look out!" Katya screamed.

Izrayl turned, but a clawed hand was already digging deep into his back. Katya pulled a long knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh, sliced through the creature's hand, leaving five bloody fingers and claws embedded deep in Izrayl. The creature screamed, cradling its hand. It hissed defiantly at her beforevanishing into the blackness. Katya took up position in front of Izrayl's bleeding body, unwilling to lower her guard again.

"Katya!" Trajan was running towards her.

"He's hurt," she said, sinking to her knees and passing out on the cold grass.

By the timethey returned to Trajan's twenty minutes later, the back seat was covered in so much blood, Anya thought their passengers must have been dead. As they drove back into the garage, Cerise was waiting and dressed in medical scrubs.

A part of the garage had been transformed miraculously into a make-shift hospital. Anya had thought the wall of stainless steel cupboards and drawers were places to keep tools. Instead, the two metal panels folded down to make sturdy operating tables. Drawers had been opened to reveal medical instruments and bright lamps.

"God," Anya muttered. "I see you two have dealt with this before?"

"More than we would have liked. Open the back doors, please, Anya," Trajan said. With the ease of the supernaturally strong, Trajan and Cerise carried Katya and Izrayl from the car and laid them on the metal tables.

"Cut her coat and shirt off, Anya, so I can see what I'm dealing with," Cerise said, handing her a pair of scissors. "Trajan, try to wake Izrayl up so he can shift back. I'm a nurse, not a vet."

Katya didn't move or wake up when Anya started cutting the sleeves of her leather coat. Katya's back was covered in deep claw marks oozing dark blood.

Oh god, how could anyone live through that and keep fighting? Anya thought, her stomach clenching.

"Hurry up, Anya, and stop gawking," Cerise prompted. Anya quickly removed Katya's arsenal of weapons and the tatters of her shirt. Now that her back was bare, Anya could see, amongst the wounds and blood, the odd symbols tattooed around Katya's narrow hips and up her backbone.

"You're going to be okay, Katya," Anya promised, tears in her throat.

"Trajan, she's going to need blood," Cerise said, assessing Katya's wounds.

"What type?" he asked. He opened a fridge full of bags of blood. Cerise ran her gloved finger over one of Katya's wounds and put it to her mouth with a thoughtful suck. Her blue eyes flashed black for a split second. She said, "AB positive, my favorite."

Anya's stomach churned as Cerise smiled at her. "Don't worry, I don't really like living blood, and Katya won't be a corpse for a long time yet."

Anya looked in time to see Izrayl's body shudder and change back into its human form. Pale clawed fingers still stuck grotesquely from his back amongst the blood and other wounds.

"Be a dear and pull those out for me, Trajan," Cerise instructed.

Trajan did as he was asked and gripped the first finger. Anya swayed and was about to faint when the elevator dinged, and Yvan stepped out.

"Perfect timing, Yvan. Take Anya upstairs. She's about to pass out," Cerise said.

Anya's knees went squishy, and she started to rock as Yvan's strong hands caught her.

"Easy there,shalost, let's get you upstairs." He lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the elevator. Yvan managed toget her back to her bedroom before she threw up all over herself and his arm.

"Shit," Anya muttered. Yvan helped her into the bathroom, and she stuck her head in the toilet. "I thought I had a stronger stomach than that. I'm so sorry."

"I'll live," Yvan said, calmly washing his arm in the sink. He wet a washcloth and placed it on the back of her neck. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, let me get cleaned up, and I'll tell you all about it," Anya said, waving him out. She looked at the mess all over the bathroom and was mortified Yvan had witnessed it.

Anya pulled off her ruined clothes and rinsed them in the sink before she climbed into the shower to wash the sour smell from her skin. She had stitched up wounds on animals before without a blink, but stitching up wounded friends was completely different.

Anya came out a short time later, wrapped tightly in a robe. Yvan was coming in through the door with two steaming cups of tea.

"I thought you would need something to drink, and I don't think vodka will be your friend," he said, handing her a cup.

"Thanks," Anya said and sipped the scalding liquid. "I think I've had enough vodka for one night. It's probably why I couldn't keep my stomach under control." They both knew it was a lie, but Yvan didn't call her on it.

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