Page 5 of Silver Claw

But it wasn’t Gavin Voss.

A woman came at us, and I counted four people at her back. That was good. My four would take care of them while I concentrated on the woman. She ran straight toward me, fast and quiet with a blade in one hand and her other hand up, as though to tell me to stop even though she never hesitated.

I would have thought it hugely weird had I not recognized the familiar sign of magic. She was about to hit me with something more deadly than even the blade she carried.

That was okay. I had my own magic, and I had my own blade.

The night was abruptly filled with roars and metal and rage and blood, and the slice of moon watched it all with a tolerant and slightly dim light. Maybe she was tired of all the blood and violence, because she hid behind a cloud, and if not for the lights I’d installed around the grounds, we’d have fought in near total darkness.

Country life was dark.

The attacker’s men pulled mine away, leading them into the woods that surrounded the house, and abruptly, it was just the woman and me. The sounds of fighting grew soft and distant. Even the hounds had quieted, slinking off to hide under theporch or in their shelters, their instinct for survival greater than their need to bray and howl and watch.

The woman halted suddenly, surprising me. “Wait,” she said.

Apparently, she wanted to talk. It never occurred to me that she might give me trouble. I had too much power. Too much magic. I was a wolf, and I was a shapeshifter. I had an angel’s scream that could cause everything around me to fall dead. I could send streams of powerful, killing magic from my hands to decimate the enemy. I could absorb magic from other people. I had a demon’s blade. I had my inner psycho.

I was unstoppable, unbeatable, unkillable.

It was sweet and a little funny that even with all my strengths, Jared and my people still worried about me. All I worried about was them.

My wolf could feel the alpha rushing through the night, grim and full of purpose, rage, and a tiny bit of fear.

But I had no doubt my pack and I would litter the ground with the bodies of our attackers before Jared reached us—and I would show the woman why she should have been more careful.

She was maybe an inch or so taller than my own five feet ten inches, confidence in every line of her slender body. Dressed simply in a long-sleeved black T-shirt, black pants, and black boots, the red, brown, and dark blonde strands of her long hair were the most colorful things about her.

She didn’t think I could take her. She didn’t believe that I, with all my various powers and gifts, was a real threat.

And that meant only one thing.

She didn’t know me at all.

Chapter Two

“Before I kill you,” I said, “tell me what you want. Why are you here?”

She sheathed her blade and lowered her hand, looking for all the world like she might light up a smoke as we had a nice little conversation.

“Kait Silver,” she said. “Nice to finally meet you.”

I smiled. “And you are…”

“My name is Anika Draper.” She waited, as though I might recognize the name.

I didn’t. “Why are you here, Anika Draper, interrupting my night and causing me trouble?”

“Because,” she replied, and for a few seconds, she looked incredibly…tired. There and gone, though, so brief I thought I might have imagined it. “Causing trouble is what I do.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe consider trying something new?”

She grinned, and I had a moment to focus on the wild, striking beauty of her before she lost the grin and continued. “My choices were taken from me when I was born a supernatural.” She shrugged. “I’m here because I have to be.”

I nodded. “You want to fight me, then. You want to die.”

“The first part…not really. The second? Yeah. Some days, Kait Silver, I want to die. But right now, I’m not in a dying kind of mood.”

She took a step toward me, the killer peeking from her eyes. Black, heavy magic seemed to surround her, suffocating, wet, and cold.