Page 92 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

She nodded. “You find Stratton’s mate and keep her safe. I like her. So, if she’s harmed in any way, I’m not going to take kindly to that.”

Jim kissed her temple. “Understood.”

With a measured breath, Stratton surveyed the area, noticing boot prints in the gravel area on the edge of the grass that led to a line of trees and then a series of alleys and interconnecting side streets.

He ran in that direction, trusting his instincts and centuries of tracking. He did his best to see in the low light without slowing his pace. Time was of the essence. If a creature had her, every minute counted.

He jumped up and over a bush to find himself at the end of a darkened alley. There were signs of a struggle having taken place there. From what he could tell, it looked to have taken place between several people and a rather large dog. One of the people had been wearing boots. Ones that lined up with the size Astria wore.

“Stratton,” said Jim, coming to a stop next to him. “Dave is staying with Faye so I can help you track her. I’m trying to catch her scent.”

“What are you smelling?” asked Stratton, his heart thumping madly.

“Rotting meat,” said Jim, sniffing more. “And dog. Something else, but I don’t know what. Makes my skin itch in a way that says it could be good or it could be very, very evil.”

“Dark Fae,” said Stratton. He turned to the left just as something came crashing through a six-foot wooden fence at him.

It slammed into him, nearly taking him to the ground. He thrust it away and found himself facing off with a monster with signature elements, all pointing back to Henry and what he’d done.

“What in the hell is that?” asked Jim, putting his hands out as claws emerged from his fingertips.

The creature, like the ones in the past, was mismatched to the point it was grotesque. Its right arm was anything but human. It had long, spindly fingers and razor-sharp nails. It slashed out at Jim, and Stratton grabbed the wolf-shifter, jerking him out of harm’s way.

Stratton then went at the creature himself, fighting with skill and precision.

Another monster came out of the same broken-open fence area. This one went right for Jim, who had been the pack’s alpha until he’d abdicated the position to his son, Jeffrey. That meant Jim was no slouch. He could more than hold his own. And he did.

Two more creatures joined the mix. One got a kidney punch in on Stratton that he certainly felt but didn’t let it slow him any. He had to get to Astria. He had to get to his mate.

Lightning slashed the sky above, illuminating the darkened alley momentarily. The lightning wasn’t Stratton’s doing but it wasn’t natural either. It also clued Stratton in on just how many more of the monsters were actually in the vicinity. There were at least a dozen that he could see.

Something came leaping over him, landing in front of him. Stratton nearly attacked but stopped when he realized that something was Dave.

The man glanced back at him, his eyes flashing to black as fangs showed. “You didn’t think I’d leave you to have all the fun, did you?”

“Faye?” asked Jim, worry lacing his voice.

“Is safe and sound,” said Dave. “Wanted me to tell you to kick some ass.”

Jim snorted.

The three of them went to work, battling the creatures as the sky continued to light up. There was no thunder, no rain. Just bright flashes of blue lightning. It had the faintest halo of purple around it, reminding him greatly of the kind he’d seen once long, long ago, when he and Drest had been hunting Victor Frankenstein and his monster.

“They don’t stay dead,” said Jim, pinning one to the ground by his clawed hand.

Dave spun with another, ripping its arm from it before turning and using it as a bat. He began to bludgeon the creature with the arm he’d only just yanked free. He glanced at Stratton, ran his tongue over a fang, and lifted his brows. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

“Well, when you’re done having fun, one of you may want to head toward the university,” said Mr. Shieber as he stepped out of the dark, holding the dismembered head of a creature in one hand like it was just any old night for him. In his other hand, he held a skateboard. “The nice new barista girl who can’t actually make coffee to save her life was running that way with a bunch of these things chasing after her. I came out to yell at kids for knocking over my trash cans and ended up having to deal with a damn monster infestation—again. I swear this town is going to hell in a handbasket. Can’t a man just enjoy a cigar on his back porch without another mad scientist tinkering around in things best left untouched?”

Stratton’s stomach plummeted, and he thrust a creature from him with so much force that it went airborne. As it did, lightning struck it, igniting it instantly. It landed on the ground, engulfed in flames.

Jim looked from it to Stratton. “Was that lightning trick your doing?”

“No,” said Dave, a slow smile moving over his face. “That was something else. It would seem the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

Shieber tossed the head into the flames. “The barista girl is quick on her feet. Better runner than coffee maker, that’s for darn sure. Good thing too. Someone gave them monsters a pick-me-up. They were moving faster than others I’ve seen in my lifetime, and I’ve seen my fair share of them.” He lifted the skateboard more. “I’d rather have monsters than teenagers around me.”

Stratton looked to Dave.

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