Master of Smoke

was if he finished the Dire Wolf fast. Then he could find her and make a werewolf-skin coat out of Warlock’s pet dogs.
    He let his power spill, reshaping his body into the form he’d worn to kill killers once before.
    Then he leaped, leaped, and leaped again, until he arrived at the block he sensed Warlock hiding behind. He bounded over it, meaning to come down on the Dire Wolf feet first. Unfortunately, the sorcerer sensed him coming, twisted with incredible agility, and threw himself out of the way. Smoke hit the ground, bounced, and slammed into him anyway, clawed hands raking down the front of Warlock’s body to grab his dick and jerk. The werewolf howled and tore away, magic dancing down his body to heal the mangled flesh.
    Smoke followed and hit him with an uppercut that drove his head back. Warlock fell flat on his back, and Smoke dove on top of him, snarling.
    Finally—finally!—he was going to make the fucker pay.

    Eva crouched on top of the two-story stone with the three steps, the one she’d first spotted all the way across the field. The two werewolves were casting around on the ground below, trying to untangle her scent. They’d finally assumed wolf form themselves when they realized that wolf Eva could run rings around them. Which she literally had, racing in great loops around the stones to muddy her scent.
    Smoke had been right. She was faster and more agile in wolf form.
    Something exploded. Eva instinctively flattened on top of the block. Her lover and Warlock were stalking somewhere out there in the darkness. She’d seen Smoke shift into the form of the huge werecat he’d used during the fight back at the complex. He was now every bit as big as his foe. Not that they were using all that muscle at the moment; they were too busy shooting bolts and fireballs at each other as they ducked in and out between the stones. Their attacks lit up the night and shook the ground with deafening cracks.
    And I’ve been sleeping with that man. Or is “man” even the right word for him?
    Eva pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter that Smoke was a borderline god, while she was a comic book geek in way over her head. The point is to get through the night, and I won’t if I don’t pull my head out of my butt.
    She needed to take care of Fang and Fanger. Then maybe she could find a way to help Smoke with Warlock.
    Another blast rattled her teeth. Or not. Jeez.
    Concentrate on killing the nasty werewolves, Eva.
    In that moment, she saw her chance. The pale wolf had paused directly below the stone she crouched on, head down as he breathed in her scent. He started to glance up, finally realizing where she must have gone ...
    And she landed on him, four hundred pounds of pissed-off Dire Wolf slamming him flat. She heard bones crack with the impact. He had time for one yelp before she grabbed his muzzle and twisted hard.
    Another crack.
    Eva hesitated, surprised at the sudden sick sensation killing him gave her. She knew he’d have done far worse to...
    The black Dire Wolf exploded out of the darkness, knocking her off her victim. They both went tumbling. Her back slammed into one of the blocks, and her head cracked against it in an explosion of stars. She slid to the ground, limp and stunned.
    “Oh, you little bitch,” the werewolf snarled, “You’re going to pay for that.”
    “You’re going to pay for that.” The voice of the werewolf serial killer sounded in her memory, saying exactly the same words.
    Eva saw a blur over her head as the werewolf struck, raking a vicious furrow across her breasts. She screamed as he grabbed her torn flesh and squeezed hard. “Nice tits,” he growled. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
    Smoke had taught her a dozen ways to get out of just this situation. She tried to roll into a throw, but her body refused to obey.
    With a chill, she realized she was completely paralyzed. Had the werewolf broken her spine?
    Oh, sweet God. He’s going to rip me apart. Just like before. Except this time I’m going to die.
    Eva screamed.
    The horror and hopelessness in the sound cut through Smoke like a razor slicing into his soul. Instinctively, he jerked away from Warlock’s half-stunned body, in the direction of the cry.
    The moment of distraction was damned near fatal. The werewolf sorcerer shot a blast right at his face. He barely got his shield up in time.
    Another bloodcurdling scream sliced across the battlefield.
    Smoke whirled and ran toward the chilling cry. He no