Free Wolf in Shadow-eARC by John Lambshead Page A

Fawkes’ banger.
    The woman looked puzzled and uncertain, like the rules had changed halfway through the game. A trickle of blood welled out of the side of her mouth and ran slowly down her chin. To Rhian, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. There was another loud bang and the woman’s body jerked.
    A man in a long dark overcoat stood behind the glowing couple, right arm extended like an Olympic pistol shooter. Rhian could not work out where he had sprung from. He had materialized out of thin air. The gun in his hand fired again and again. Rhian saw flesh torn from the woman by the light of the flashes from the discharging weapon. She pushed the injured woman away, sending her spinning towards the shooter.
    The gunman was so fast that Rhian barely saw him move. He caught the woman’s hair and forced her head down, lowering his head over the back of her neck like a lover. Rhian caught a glimpse of canine teeth and heard bones crack. Her head lolled back, and the gunman tore at her throat with long fangs before dropping the twitching body to the floor.
    The woman’s companion screamed in fury. He punched towards the gunman, not even trying to touch him. Nonetheless, the gunman reeled back as if he had been hit by an invisible magical fist. His body spread-eagled against the wall tiles. His gun struck the floor with a metallic clang. The magician snarled and raised his hand while making a complex pattern with his fingers.
    Rhian had no idea what was happening, but it was manifestly clear who was her enemy. She leapt on the magician’s back, grabbing at his hand to spoil whatever he was doing. The man responded by flipping his other hand back towards her like he was dislodging a fly. Invisible magic punched her hard in the face. She fell backwards, the cold, unyielding concrete jarring her spine. Pressure built on her mind, the wolf awake, the wolf demanding to be set free.
    The gunman scooped up his weapon and pointed it at the man. Rhian saw him press the trigger, but nothing happened. The gunman pulled desperately at the rear of the gun as the magician made a series of passes. The air flickered, images forming like shadows from decayed films. Light gushed from the magician’s hands, streaming away in coils, solidifying into a fluorescent purple cable.
    The magician lashed at the gunman, forcing him to roll over desperately to avoid the strike. Concrete exploded into dust and steam where the whip scoured the ground. The gunman half rose to his feet and leapt forward. He was inhumanly fast, but the magician was faster, his whip catching the gunman in mid-air.
    Rhian realised with a cold clarity that left no room for doubt that the magician would kill the gunman and then her.
    “All right, you bitch, do it,” Rhian said, folding her arms in across her breasts, fists clenched.
    The magician turned his head, giving her a curious look.
    The wolf exploded from within, its triumphant howl vibrating through her body. Rhian pulled off her coat, knowing what was coming. Her muscles contracted into tetanus, twisting her back like a strung bow. Her clothes ripped and shredded, corroded by the magic flowing over her body. She dropped onto her hands, screaming with pain. Her head rotated back into her neck and an invisible hand pulled her face out by the jaw, the bones and ligaments realigning. Something terrible was happening to her legs. Her skin writhed as if covered in burning napalm. She screamed and screamed, but the sound that came out of her throat was a howl that filled the subway with throbbing sound.
    Her sight failed.
    When she could see, her world was monochrome and flattened. The pools of bright light surrounded by darkness were gone. Everything was at much the same level of illumination, as if she wasn’t seeing with light at all.
    The world was alive with smells. Human traces were everywhere in the subway but her nose told the wolf that no people were near. The things in front of her were not people. Her