Master of Smoke

longer gave a fuck about Warlock or getting revenge. All he wanted was to save Eva from the creature that was killing her.
    Unfortunately, Warlock had other ideas.
    Smoke heard the thump of the Dire Wolf’s big paws. Raw instinct sent him ducking left. A fireball roared past.
    I can’t help Eva if the fucking werewolf fries me. Summoning his magic, he spun the power around him into a suit of matte black plate armor big enough to protect his werecat form from Warlock’s blasts.
    Then he raced through the dark, praying he got to her in time.
    TWENTY-ONE
    “Oh, that’s good,” purred the dark werewolf. “Scream some more for me.” His claws flashed down, raking another bloody furrow across Eva’s belly. Any minute now, he was going to cut deep enough to gut her, just like the werewolf who’d torn her up all those years ago. Like that first attacker, he wasn’t even bothering to hold her down. He’d realized she couldn’t move, couldn’t fight no matter how desperately she wanted to.
    Her mind raged in the cage of her body. She should be fighting, but she couldn’t make herself move. Was this some kind of spell? It wasn’t a spinal injury, because she could feel the pressure of the Dire Wolf’s weight across her legs, the pain of his raking claws. Her back wasn’t broken, yet the only part of her she could control was her voice. So she screamed in another ringing shriek.
    And Smoke answered. “Eva!”
    Boom!
    The dark werewolf laughed. “Sounds like your boyfriend is getting his ass handed to him.” He grabbed her bloody breasts again and squeezed viciously hard, digging his talons in. The pain in her torn flesh was nauseating. “You’re Warlock’s secret weapon, bitch. He told me all I had to do was make you howl, and he’d be able to take lover-boy apart.” Baring his teeth, he added, “Let’s give him a really loud one this time.” His claws sliced her nipple.
    This time Eva didn’t even feel the pain. Warlock’s using me against Smoke?
    “Eva!” Smoke’s voice rang out, hoarse with desperation. A lightning strike lit up the darkness with a deafening crack that shook the ground under her back.
    Was that a cry of pain? She couldn’t tell in the aftermath of the thunder.
    Bastard. Oh, Warlock, you bastard. The blast of rage she felt exploded her paralysis.
    Eva drove both hands straight upward, just as Smoke had taught her, clawed thumbs spearing into the werewolf’s eyes. He fell back, roaring in agony as she flipped him onto his back. Now she was on top, and it was her claws doing the raking.
    And she didn’t fuck around with any teasing, shallow cuts.
    He tried to fight back, but she’d already torn out his throat, and his strength bled away before she even noticed his claws.
    Her fury seemed a separate thing, something that had grown for five years. Something that sent her ripping into him with talons and teeth and hot, animal rage that anyone would dare use her to hurt the man she loved. It mixed with an older, colder fury that anyone would attack her, bite her, rip her open, infect her, make her something not human, make her lie to the people she loved.
    The dark werewolf paid for it all.
    She finally realized he’d stopped moving. When she blinked the red out of her eyes and actually looked at him, he was very ... wet.
    Boom-CRACK!
    Smoke. Her head lifted. Smoke was still fighting Warlock. Warlock, who had sent this bastard to make her scream, solely to destroy the man she loved.
    Warlock needed to pay, too.
    Eva rose, blood dripping from her claws and muzzle. The taste made her stomach twist. Some part of her recoiled in horror.
    She ignored it. Smoke needed her, and Warlock needed to pay.
    Where were they? Glancing around, Eva jolted as she glimpsed something white standing right beside her. She gasped and whirled, only to realize the figure was Zephyr. Not Warlock, thank God.
    The big white stag stood watching her, his elegant head lifted with its impressive spread of antlers on display, sparks of magic dancing among the sharp tips. “You are not prey.” His voice rang in her mind like a great bell, deep and resonant.
    It took her a moment to notice she could see the block behind him through his milky white glow. But he’d been solid when she’d met him before. She took an automatic step back. “Are you a ghost?”
    He tilted his head, considering. “That’s as good a word as any.” His sigh gusted through her mind. “Warlock slew me and stole my power. Now he