Free Lore vs. The Summoning by Anya Breton

of the energy left in me to flip over to get a view of what I was in for. The bullet was headed for my head. I shimmied down the wall while bending forward and hoped it was enough to avoid the projectile.
    Between healing Michael's gunshot wounds earlier at the brownstone, plaguing four goons, and healing my own scrapes, I was running dangerously low on steam. There were still three guys standing. One of them wasn't so much as scratched. And even though Chet sounded like a cartoon rodent I had to remember he could still shift into something vicious. In fact, I was shocked that he hadn't already done so.
    The reminder was what I'd needed to focus. My gun was a foot away. I threw my body at it then maneuvered it into my left hand. A shot rang out behind me. Since Apollo's Warning hadn't slowed things down I suspected it had been one of the blind guys that had pulled the trigger.
    I rolled onto my side enough to aim the gun at Chet's right eye. He ducked before I pulled the trigger, which gave me ample time to adjust for the movement he'd inevitably make. My shot nicked his ear. Not good.
    His hands transformed into razor sharp claws before my eyes. Then in a blurring movement he came at me with a savage roar his larynx couldn't possibly have made. I did my best to roll out of the way but landed directly in front of a Rhino's foot.  
    The massive bastard correctly assumed it was my body pressed against his ankle and kicked me in the chest for my pains. Just for that I locked my arms around his clown-shoed combat boots so that if he kicked, I'd move with him rather than be on the receiving end. My fingers slid up his pant leg in search of bare skin. The idiot giggled above me while doing what looked suspiciously like a tickle dance. Skin touched leathery skin a half second later.
    Time slowed. Someone with decent aim had shot at me. There wasn't going to be any way to avoid this one. I could only minimize the damage. I curled around the Rhino's legs, earning a shot in the back. It was far better than the head wound he'd been trying for. But damn. It burned.
    The last Rhino flailed blindly around the room, shooting crazily. If I were lucky, he'd shoot Chet. More than likely I'd be the one shot.  
    I attempted to crawl in the direction of the sightless goon but the latest plague victim and my steadily healing wounds had nearly drained me of energy. A scream tore from my throat upon feeling four knives slice through my ankle. The Achilles' tendon is severed , my brain told me helpfully. I rolled over to find Chet sporting some serious fangs now. So I shot him in the face. Somehow, I supposed because he'd been gloating at the damage he'd wrought on my leg, he hadn't ducked the bullet.
    I knew my gun was either empty or one bullet from empty. There were clips in my left pocket but the gun was in my left hand because most of the fingers on my right limb were broken. Chet's shrieks weren't going to last for long. I set the gun down. Getting the clip out hadn't been hard but ejecting the old one and replacing it with the new one one-handed, the left hand, was going to be tricky.  
    I'd been fumbling with it when time slowed. Damn it. This was getting old. I hadn't gotten any information out of the bastard yet. And I was on a deadline! I didn't have time to muck around.
    An infusion of frustration pushed me up onto my good leg and out of the path of the bullet. I stumbled onto the Rhino and shoved a hand to his neck to plague him. While I ducked a gunshot from Chet I shoved the clip into my gun, aimed sideways and shot the shifter in the eye. He'd been too busy dealing with recoil to think about defensive movements. Now he had a missing eye and a torn up left cheek.
    The wounds on my leg were rapidly knitting themselves together. I knew I had to apply some pressure to my Achilles' tendon so that it would heal properly fused. The movement of setting my foot flat on the ground made me nearly scream. Now I just had to start