I twitched my head in the tiniest nod. Keeping his pole-arm in baton mode, he strode onto the lawn. The wolfy creep walked forward to meet him, cracking his knuckles like a club bouncer.

I slipped my brass knuckles out of my pocket and onto my left hand, then withdrew my Queen of Spades and pinched it between my lips. Finally, I unholstered my paintball pistol. Four shots left in this magazine, and I had to make them count. Who knew what else I might need to shoot later.

Giving no warning, Ezra flung a howling gust into the werewolf, then launched forward.

The werewolf barely stumbled from the wind attack. He caught Ezra’s pole-arm on the palm of his hand with a loud smack. Anyone else would’ve broken their arm trying to stop a strike from Ezra when he put real muscle into it, but the shifter’s hand barely dipped under the force.

Ezra wrenched his pole-arm free, then tossed it away. It flew end over end and landed in the grass, well out of reach. My heart crammed into my throat. Ezra didn’t want to chance the shifter taking control of his weapon. He would rely on his steel-plated fists instead.

As they circled each other, I crept out of the trees and circled them.

The man sprang. Faster than before, he rammed into Ezra. Limbs blurred as they tangled, then air boomed—Ezra’s fist smashing into the shifter’s chest. The man flew backward but landed on his feet, gasping.

“You hit hard.” The shifter grinned as he rubbed his sternum. “Harder than a mage should hit.”

I kept moving. I needed to get in the werewolf’s blind spot.

Ezra extended his hands out to either side, palms facing upward and fingers curling. The night air came to life. Swirling gusts leaped at his command, rushing around him, whipping leaves and dirt into a spiral.

He and the shifter lunged. Wind burst outward as they crashed together. Ezra was damn near unstoppable in a one-on-one fight, but not against this opponent, his mutant strength boosted by the full moon. They grappled, fists thudding against flesh. Unleashing his demonic magic could turn the tables in an instant, but Ezra used Eterran’s power only as a last resort—and considering we were in a residential area where witnesses could appear at any moment, it might not be an option.

I slid closer, watching carefully. I’d been ogling Aaron and Kai during sparring for weeks and I’d gotten an idea of the flow of combat. If I could time it right …

Pulling the Queen of Spades from my teeth, I whispered, “Ori repercu …”

Ezra smashed his steel knuckles into the werewolf’s head, blood spattering on impact. The shifter slammed into Ezra, knocking him backward into the ground.

No, too soon. I waited a beat, then began again. “Ori repercu …”

Ezra threw an arm up to shield his throat and the shifter sank his human teeth into the aeromage’s forearm, tearing through the fabric glove.

Not yet, not yet. “Ori repercu—”

With a jab of his fist, Ezra unleashed a maelstrom of wind to throw the man off. Yes, now!

As the werewolf was lifted into the air, I thrust my card out. “—tio!”

Ezra’s wind attack reversed direction and blasted the shifter forward. As he landed on his hands and knees, my pistol was already aimed, and I pulled the trigger.

Pop pop pop.

Three yellow balls hit him square in the ass, bursting on impact. Hell yes. I was a way better shot than I was a throw. I mean, I was only ten feet away, but still. Bullseye!

“Yeah!” I yelled. “Take that, you—”

The shifter shoved up, teeth bared furiously. In three leaping strides, he was on me.

He hit me like a battering ram. I slammed down, pain ricocheting through my back. The pistol flew out of my hand. Baring his teeth, stained with Ezra’s blood, he lunged to bite me—and Ezra appeared, grabbing him by the hair before his teeth reached my skin.

“Ori amplifico!” I shouted as I smashed my fist into the man’s nose.

He was hurled backward in a spray of blood. So was Ezra. They hit the ground with a thump.

“Sorry, Ezra!” I gasped, sitting up.

Ezra rolled away as the shifter writhed in agony—then greenish light spilled out of him. His limbs contorted and fur sprouted all over his body. The monstrous wolf scrambled onto four paws, bloodied snout ridged as he snarled furiously.

Ezra was on his feet, hands spread wide, wind swirling around him. Man against wolf. Shit.

I bolted away from them. Aaron had needed his sword for the extra reach—and Ezra needed his pole-arm. As snarls filled the air, I rushed across the lawn, skimming the dark grass. Where was it? Where? Where—there!

I snatched it out of the grass, turned, and hurled it.

Ezra caught the spinning weapon out of the air an instant before the wolf slammed into him. He went down under the massive beast, vanishing beneath black fur and powerful canine muscles.

A flash of silver blade.

The wolf heaved backward, then collapsed, two matching hilts protruding from his chest. Ezra extracted himself from beneath the dying shifter, breathing hard.

I rushed to his side as he wrenched his blades free. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “You?”

“Fine.” I scanned him for injuries, then located my paintball pistol and Queen of Spades card in the grass. “Three shots wasn’t enough.”

“Not on this one,” he agreed grimly. “Let’s keep moving.”

He strode toward the house. Following, I ejected the near-empty clip from my pistol and loaded the next one. My Queen of Spades was back in its pouch, but the brass knuckles stayed on my hand. They could be useful even when the spell was recharging.

We slipped around the back and paused. Light from the house’s two rear windows illuminated the treed backyard, and faint clattering came from inside. This was the right place.

“Over there,” Ezra whispered, pointing not at the house, but at a toolshed nestled among spruce trees at the far end of the lawn. We sprinted for the cover of the foliage. He hesitated in front of the shed, then pulled on the handle. The door swung open, revealing a huge steel cage with bars as thick as my wrist.

“Sin!” I gasped.

She lay on the shiny metal floor, her teal hair splayed around her pale face, and didn’t stir at my call. I rushed to the bars and rattled the door. It was bolted shut with a heavy-duty lock.

“Shit. Can you break that?”

Ezra took his pole-arm in both hands and smashed the end into the lock with an ear-splitting clang. Three more times he rammed it, but the lock didn’t even bend.

Lowering his weapon, he shook his head. “We need the key.”

“What ya wanna bet Brian has it?” I growled.

I hated leaving Sin behind, but until we could get the cage open, we had no choice. We exited the shed, raced across the lawn to the house, and positioned ourselves on either side of the back door.

“I can sense him moving around,” Ezra murmured. “He’s to the left, about fifteen feet away.”

I lifted my pistol. “I can hit him.”

Ezra nodded and turned the door handle. It rotated easily, unlocked. “I’ll be right behind you. Be careful.”

“I’ve got this.”

He pushed on the door and it swung silently open. Paintball gun held in both hands, I stepped inside.

Whatever this room had been before, it was now an alchemy lab. A long counter ran along one side, and shelving units occupied the other end, sticking out in the room instead of flush with the wall. A table in the middle, its surface permanently etched with circles, was laden with glass vessels, bottles, and bins of ingredients.

Everything was a mess. Bottles had been knocked over, papers scattered across the floor, ingredients spilled on the counter. Urgent rustles and clatters came from between two freestanding shelves, and on the floor was an open duffle bag filled with alchemy paraphernalia. Either Brian knew he’d been found out or he wasn’t taking his chances. He was running for it.

The shelves blocked my view of him—and prevented me from getting a clear shot. I tiptoed into the room and Ezra followed a few steps behind.

A quiet, angry mutter, then a hand appeared, throwing a grimoire into the duffle bag. Six feet away now. Half crouching, I crept two more steps, then leaped forward, swinging my gun into the gap between shelves.

Orange mist burst through the air.

I reeled back, gun wavering as I squinted through the haze. A scent filled my nose—sweet with a hint of almond.

“Drop your gun, Tori.”

I opened my hand. The pistol tumbled away from my fingers and hit the floor with a clang.

Wait, what? Why the hell had I done that?

Panic shot through me, but before I could stoop to grab my gun again, Brian stepped out of the colored fog, a weird-looking rifle in his hand, the butt against his shoulder and the long barrel pointed at my chest.

“Don’t move,” Brian warned sharply. “Either of you.”

Three steps away, Ezra held his position. The mist dispersed, the sweet, nutty scent fading—but the damage was done. I’d dropped my gun at his command and now I was unarmed.

Brian’s right eye twitched nervously, his blond hair tangled and his white dress shirt stained. “Don’t make me shoot. My shifter serum won’t do nice things to a human body.”

Ah, his rifle looked funny because it was a dart gun. Somehow, I wasn’t all that comforted by the knowledge that I might die from a lethal injection rather than a lethal bullet.

Brian adjusted his aim, pointing the barrel at my throat. Twitchy fear radiated off him, and that made him dangerous. A scared man was unpredictable.

“What’s your plan, exactly?” I asked in a conversational tone, ignoring my building panic. “Shoot me? Ezra will snap your neck by the time you pull the trigger, so … maybe not a great plan.”

Brian stepped out from between the shelves, keeping his gun on me. As he sidled around the table, putting it between him and Ezra, the aeromage inched closer again, now almost directly behind me.

A low snarl rumbled into the room. A hulking gray wolf prowled through the open door, its milky eyes fixed on me. Two more wolves crowded into the threshold behind the first, their teeth bared and drool dripping from their fangs.