Page 101 of The Last Sanctuary
Cobb had retreated several feet at the black wolf’s approach. Several Headhunters formed a loose half circle several yardsback from Luna’s fallen body and from Shadow, a growling, snarling demon of hate and rage.
Cobb raised his rifle at the wolf.
“Don’t shoot!” Vaughn roared. He cradled his left arm against his chest, which was tattered and streaked with blood where Shadow had gotten in a few bites. He’d lost his rifle somehow in his fight with the wolf. “That wolf is mine! I get the kill shot. Bring me a gun.”
The men looked at him like he was insane, but they obeyed. They kept their rifles up and ready, but no one fired a shot.
One of the Headhunters handed Vaughn a pistol. He gripped it in his uninjured hand.
“Let me go!” Finally, Raven tore free of Damien’s grasp and ran toward the wolves. Slip-sliding in the slick ferns. Staggering, stumbling, dizziness washing through her, panic burning in her chest.
She lunged in front of Shadow. Placing herself between the wolves and Vaughn, she raised her arms, shielding Shadow as best she could. “NO! Don’t you dare hurt him!”
“You,” Vaughn said through gritted teeth. “You did this.”
She had no weapons, not even the knife now. She didn’t stand a chance. She knew it, but still, she didn’t move. Behind her, Shadow crouched, snarling. She would protect him to the end, just as Luna had protected her.
Vaughn’s eyes glinted with cold anger. “You’re going to pay for this.”
His right finger curled over the trigger. The barrel began to rise. Slowly. So slowly. Rain pattered off the gun. Rain pouring in a thick gray sheet. Each drop splattered as loud as a cannon blast in her ears.
The barrel settled on a spot between her eyes.
Damien shouted something she couldn’t make out clearly. Sound drained away. Everything disappeared but the muzzle of the gun aimed at her face.
Everything but the smell. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It was muted in the pouring rain. Faint but unmistakable, that smell: the sickly-sweet aroma of buttered popcorn.
Vaughn flicked off the safety. His finger massaged the trigger, started to squeeze. “I’m going to enjoy killing you and your wolf.”
The roar was loud as a freight train. The deafening sound trembled the ground beneath their feet.
Raven’s brain formed a single frantic thought—tiger.
Chapter Forty-Three
The tiger exploded from the underbrush. He launched at the Headhunters in a ferocious orange blur, crossing twenty feet in a single bound, spanning the distance to his prey in under a second. An arcing missile of death.
Screaming, Cobb spun and fired a wild burst of shots. In his sheer panic, the gun veered wide. He had no time to correct his aim. The tiger was on him.
Vlad collided with his target at full speed. His claws extended. Jaws gaping.
Man and beast went down together. A writhing ball of teeth and fangs and vulnerable exposed flesh.
The tiger struck Cobb in the side of the head with a paw like a sledgehammer. The man’s skull snapped back. The blow might’ve broken his neck.
In the next instant, Vlad plunged his fangs into Cobb’s throat and crushed his jugular.
Cobb’s scream was abruptly truncated. He gurgled. His mouth hung open strangely. His hands fluttered uselessly. His eyes rolled wild and frantic. His blood gushed in a torrent, drenching the bent and matted ferns beneath him.
Mere seconds had passed. Three, perhaps four. Everyone stood frozen in shock and terror.
Including Raven. Even Shadow, standing guard over Luna, went stiff-legged, half turned toward this new insidious threat.
They watched in horror as Cobb’s face contorted into a grotesque caricature. Blood burbled like a fountain from his lips, from his opened throat. The guttural sounds faint in the drumming rain.
The tiger rose to his full height. He cut an astonishing figure, terrible in his enormous size, his immense strength, his dreadful beauty. The vibrant burnt orange of his coat, the thick snowy white fur of his broad chest and belly, the rich oiled black of the bands striping his sleek back. A quarter ton of coiled muscle and sinew.
Vlad’s muscular shoulders rippled as he stood over Cobb’s body. His yellow eyes narrowed to slits. His ears flattened against his skull. He bared his fangs. His four-inch claws were unsheathed and razor-sharp.
