Fool Moon (Page 77)

And, something inside of me said in a calm tone, you’ll never be Harry Dresden again.

Power. I could feel the belt’s power in me, its magic, its strength. I recognized it now. That dark surety, that heady and careless delight. I recognized why there were parts of me that loved it so much.

I released Denton’s throat and backed away from him. I scrambled with my paws, my stomach twisting in sudden nausea, rebelling at the very idea of what I had been about to do. I sobbed and tore the belt from my waist, ripping my shirt in the process, feeling my body grow awkward and heavy and clumsy and pained again. Injuries that had been nothing to my tru – to the wolf form returned in vengeance to my human frailty. I threw the belt away from me, as far as it would go. I felt hot tears on my face, at the loss of that joy, that energy, that impervious strength.

"You bastard," I said to Denton. "Damn you. You poor bastard." He lay on his side now, whimpering from his injuries, bleeding from many wounds, one leg curled limp and useless beneath him. I crawled to him and took his belt away. Threw it after the other.

Susan rushed over to me, but I caught her before she could embrace me. "Don’t touch me," I told her, and I meant it with every cell in me. "Don’t touch me now."

Susan flinched away from me as though the words had burned her. "Harry," she whispered. "Oh, God, Harry. We’ve got to get you away from all of this."

From the far side of the ring of trees, there was another furious bellow. There was motion in the trees, and then Murphy, leading a stumbling, clumsy string of naked Alphas, came out of the woods toward me, staying low. She had a gun, probably taken from one of the bodies, in her good hand.

"All right," I said, as they approached, and turned a shoulder to Susan, pressing her away. I couldn’t even look at her. "Murphy, you and Susan get these kids out of here, now."

"No," Murphy said. "I’m staying." Her eyes flickered to Denton, narrowed in a flash of anger, and then dismissed him again as quickly. She made no move to examine his injuries. Maybe she didn’t care if he bled to death, either.

"You can’t hurt MacFinn," I said.

"And you can?" she asked. She leaned closer and peered at me. "Christ, Dresden. You’ve got blood all over your mouth."

I snarled. "Take the kids and go, Karrin. I’m handling things here."

Murphy, for answer, slipped the safety off of the gun. "I’m the cop here," she said. "Not you. This is a bust in progress. I’m staying until the end." She smiled, tight. "When I can sort out who is a good guy and who isn’t."

I spat out another curse. "I don’t have time to argue this with you. Susan, get the kids back to the van."

"But Harry …" she began.

Fury rose to the top of the rampant emotions coursing through me. "I’ve got enough blood on my hands," I screamed. "Get these kids out of here, damn you."

Susan’s dark-toned face went pale, and she turned to the nearest of the naked, wet, shivering Alphas, Georgia as it happened. She took the young woman’s hand, had the others line up in drug-hazed confusion and join hands, and then led them away. I watched them go and felt the seething anger and sorrow and fear in me twist around in confusion.

From the far side of the woods, there was another bellow of rage, a shaking of one of the evergreens, and then a sharp, sudden yelp of purest anguish. Tera. The sound of the she-wolf’s pain rose to a frantic gargling sound, and then went silent. Murphy and I stared at the trees. I thought I saw a flicker of red eyes somewhere behind them, and then it was gone.

"It’s coming around," Murphy said. "It will circle around to get to us."

"Yeah," I said. The loup-garou’s blood was up, after the infuriating chase after Tera. It would go after whatever it saw next. My mouth twisted bitterly. I had a unique insight to its point of view now.

"What do we do?" Murphy said. Her knuckles whitened on the gun.

"We go after it and try to hold it long enough for Susan and the kids to get away," I said. "What about Marcone?"

"What about him?"

"He saved our lives," I said. Murphy’s expression said she wasn’t happy with that idea. "We owe him."

"You want to get him out of there?"

"I don’t want to leave anyone else to that thing," I said. "How about you?"

She closed her eyes and let out a breath. "All right," she said. "But God, this smells like you’re trying to set me up, Dresden. If you get me killed, there’s no one left who saw what happened here, is there?"

"If you want to be safe, go after Susan," I said bluntly. "We split up. One of us attracts its attention, maybe the other one will get through."

"Fine," Murphy snarled. "Fuck you, Harry Dresden."

Famous last words, I thought, but I didn’t waste any breath on voicing it.

It was time to face the loup-garou.

Chapter 33

I circled into the trees and stepped over Harris’s corpse. The kid’s face had been smashed in by two bullets, though the semiautomatic was still in his dead hand. Murphy must have had Wilson’s gun. Wilson lay not far from Harris, also dead. Wounds to the chest, massive bleeding. Benn lay next to him, naked but for a business skirt soaked in blood. There was a line of greenish goo around her waist, probably the remains of the wolf belt. Its magic must have died when she did. I tried not to look at the mangled meat on the back of her thighs, or the tears near her jugular. I tried not to smell her blood, or to notice the dark surge of contemptuous pride that went through me, leftovers from my experience with my own wolf belt.

I shuddered and went past the bodies. The night was silent, but for wind, and the creaking of the ropes that supported the platform in the middle of the encircling evergreens. I could still see Marcone hog-tied up there. The position must have been excruciating – it isn’t every day that you get crucified and hung up as dinner for a monster, and you can’t really train your muscles for it. I couldn’t see Marcone’s expression, but I could almost feel his agony.

I waved a hand as he spun gently toward me, and he nodded his head, silent. I pointed at my eyes, and then around at the shadowed trees, trying to ask him if he knew where the loup-garou was, but he shook his head. Either he didn’t understand me or he couldn’t see it, and either way it didn’t do me any good.

I grimaced and moved forward through the trees, skirting the edge of the pit. I looked for the rope that had been used to haul Marcone up to his current position. It had to have been tied off somewhere low. I peered through the near dark, followed the strand of rope back down to the tree it was tied to, and headed over toward it.