Part 12 (1/2)

Just as he bent down to put the knife on the ground, two men wearing animal skins stepped around the corner of the building.

Logan took in details in an instant. Both of them had long, greasy hair. One had a scar that ran from under his left eye all the way to the corner of his lips. The other was missing several front teeth. They both had broad shoulders and thick forearms. One carried a club that looked like it had once been a heavyweight baseball bat. The other carried a spiked ball on the end of a stout stick.

They weren't the soldiers he and Rinna had avoided yesterday. These guys were freelancers.

As the one with the bat spotted Logan, he stopped short. ”Well, well. Fresh meat.”

Logan would have backed up, but he was already pressed against the wall.

”I can take him,” the guy boasted, stepping forward and raising the club.

Logan might not have all his strength, but his reflexes were good. He ducked to the side to avoid the blow, then thrust up with the knife, catching the guy in the gut. The man bellowed, but he was tough, and he swung the club again.

Shouting a string of what must have been curses, his friend sprang forward, but Logan pushed the first guy into his companion.

They both went down. The one with the knife wound stayed on the ground, blood oozing from the front of his s.h.i.+rt. The other picked himself up and faced Logan, his eyes narrowed and his face red.

”This is where you die,” he growled, raising his weapon and slas.h.i.+ng downward.

The spikes grazed Logan's arm, and he winced in pain as he dodged aside. He was in no shape to fight this guy in human form. Taking a chance on his other alternative, he danced back a few yards, then dropped the knife and began ripping off his s.h.i.+rt.

”Oh, s.h.i.+t,” baseball bat muttered.

Ignoring him, Logan began to say the words of transformation.

”Taranis, Epona, Cerridwen,” he intoned, then repeated the same phrase and went on to another.

”Ga. Feart. Cleas. Duals. Aithriocht. Go gc.u.mhdai is dtreorai na deithe thu,” He was still wearing his pants, but he knew from past experience that the wolf's body could slither out of them.

The man gasped and took a step back. Logan tried to focus on him, but it was hard to see as the structure of his eyes changed.

He felt his muscles contort, his jaw lengthen. The change was always painful, but the place where the jaws of the trap had dug into his flesh throbbed with agony.

Baseball bat could have run. Instead he chose to stand and fight. Even before the transformation was complete, Logan felt the guy leap forward, knocking him backward.

Snarling in pain and anger, Logan went for the man's arm, his jaws clamping down.

The a.s.sailant screamed, flailing at the wolf with his good arm, desperation fueling the attack.

Logan felt his strength ebbing. He wouldn't have bet that a man could win a fight with a werewolf, but knew it was happening.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

LOGAN CLAMPED DOWN with all his strength on the man's arm. If he was going to die, tie would inflict as much damage as possible before he went out. Just as his jaws began to slacken, he saw a figure leap from the shadows.

It was Rinna.

She came up behind the a.s.sailant and brought a ma.s.sive rock down on his head. A crude but effective maneuver.