Page 45 of The Beast's Baby
“Fuck!” Jay exclaimed, pulling his head back and behind the corner.
He knew that he’d been told not to interfere, but there had to be something he could do. He looked around for some kind of weapon, thinking how stupid it had been that he hadn’t thought of making some sort of plan for getting his hands on one of the guard’s guns. It wasn’t like he wasn’t friendly with some of them. They might have been willing to offer them a means to protect themselves since the facility was so clearly under attack.
No point kicking himself over it now. It was mere desperation making him feel the need to. Kick himself. As hard as he fucking could.
Isobel, he said, leaning forward as though that would somehow make his voice louder in her head.
But the hiss from another plume of fire interrupted him, the heat of it hitting the side of his face and making him retract behind his corner again. His heart was speeding up, his hands cold, his brow sweaty with growing fear at his own helplessness.
Then the wolf made its move, leaping out from behind the desk it had flattened itself behind, tearing scratch marks into the concrete floor. The wolf moved like water through the air. It was a sight to see, and Jay couldn’t look away, forgetting about fire being thrown around because the wolf looked like it would make quick work of putting it out.
She was beautiful.
There was the glow in the middle of the dragon’s chest, and there was the growl of a challenge in the throat of the wolf, and then they clashed before there could be fire. Mighty paws connecting with the dragon’s chest, toppling it onto its back as she opened her mouth. Before she could breathe another plume, the wolf sunk its teeth into the throat of its foe.
Jay swallowed against his mouth growing suddenly dry, but the relief was greater than the horror.
The wolf didn’t rip and tear. Didn’t make a mess of it. It was a clean kill. Quick and merciful, or so Jay assumed.
Then there was a soft crack as Cora’s neck broke under the pressure of Isobel’s mighty jaws, the dragon stilling underneath the wolf.
And whether it was instinctual to keep the dragon from healing itself, or whether it was something deeply bound to wolf custom, as a final measure the wolf jerked its head back and parted the dragon’s throat from its neck, leaving nothing but a bloodied gash.
Jay swallowed again, but he didn’t look away.
The space was a battlefield, to say the least. Not a single desk had remained whole; all of them had been toppled and shoved to the walls in the heat of the fight. In the middle of a sea of loose white papers covering the floor, the wolf now settled itself, one paw resting across Cora’s chest. Its tongue lolled, its flanks panting with the exertion it must have taken to actually push the dragon off balance. It had required every ounce of power in the mighty animal and Jay felt awestruck as he slowly approached.
Her dark-brown fur caught the light of the few desk lamps still lit, though scattered on the floor, gleaming gently. It made him want to sink his hands into it, bury his face, breathe her in.
“Hi,” he greeted her, approaching slowly.
The wolf bent its large head as he came to a stop before him, and he felt it was an invitation to follow his desire. And so, he reached out to run his fingers through surprisingly soft fur. He kept down the impulse to scratch her behind one ear and instead gave her a bright smile of acceptance. She looked about ready to lick his face and he laughed, taking a step back with his hands up to stave her off.
“Oh, wow,” Olive said behind him. “Okay,” she added. “We’re far from done here, I’m afraid. Better go. Right now.”
They obeyed, the wolf getting to her paws and butting him in the back with her nose as he past her. He gave her a look, marveling for a moment at the size of her, then focused on following Olive’s lead.
They took the stairs again—the door a tight squeeze for Isobel—and made their way up to ground level where the noise of clashes occurring all over the facility soon reached them, even through the closed double doors of the stairwell.
At the sound of gunfire, they all paused.
“You should get on her back,” Olive said. “Take these,” she added, handing him her back full of USB memory sticks containing all the saved data. “Keep them close. They might be how we survive all of this.”
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To find my wolf,” she said, giving him a brief wink before moving through the double doors. There was no hesitation and, even though he wondered if he shouldn’t intervene—ask her if she had a gun, or at least question her—he realized she didn’t need him to.
He turned to Isobel.
“Guess I should get on your back?” he asked.
Chapter 13 - Isobel
She could barely feel him where he had positioned himself between her shoulder blades. He wasn’t a weight as much as he was a presence. One that she wanted with her as she figured he’d definitely be safer with her than running around the facility on his own.
We just have to survive long enough to reach the front doors, she said, sending her voice into his head.
“Good plan,” he agreed.
