Page 50 of The Way You Bite
Ambrose fell to the floor, wailing.
A hulking dark-clad figure with a gas mask exploded through the back door into the kitchen, threw her over his shoulder and ran. Once her ear and eye numbness passed, the jarring of the guy’s running jolted her mind into gear. No denying the scent. He was wolf. Vaguely familiar wolf.
“Let go.” She pummeled his back, a ridiculously impotent move. She was done with being kidnapped.
Feeling around for something vulnerable on the guy, she found his tactical vest opened beneath his armpit. She counted to three in beat with his strides. On three, she swung her body. And struck, impaling her canines deep into his flesh.
One proud but stunned moment later, she realized she was rolling on the ground. Free. The wolf had a hand on his side, cursing, and then spoke rapidly in a foreign language while pressing his left ear. Perhaps, he had a communication device in his ear.
She ran. Her mind swept the area, catching thoughts. There were a lot of pissed vamps and a couple of werewolves, with everyone focused on her.
Her only light was the moon. Her body responded to the luminous fullness of the glowing object on an elemental level. She felt muscles stretching. Her left hand burned.
Her hand was covered in fur. It was a paw. She fell to her knees, screaming.
