by Keri Hudson
Bazz stood his ground, a low growl leaking out of his throat as he shook his head.
Brandon snarled, head low to the ground. “Then you’ll die.”
Bazz cracked a little smile. “I won’t do it alone.”
Brandon growled and leapt, the fight unleashed. Bazz charged out to meet him, the two big shifters clashing head-on. Brandon’s jaws clacked and snapped as he bit at Bazz’s face. Bazz threw a hard swipe with the back of his left paw, sending his head snapping to the side. But the big lupe’s body still raced forward, hitting Bazz hard. Bazz spun and sent Brandon flying off and to the side. Bazz was keenly aware of Phoebe’s presence, a vulnerability. So he kept himself between the two, charging Brandon as soon as he could.
Brandon charged again, ducking Bazz’s deflection and locking onto his right hind leg, fangs digging in. But it was a quick snap, Brandon clearly knowing he couldn’t allow himself to remain in front of Bazz for too long a time. Bazz was too strong and too big. But a good nip would cause blood loss, and enough blood loss would rob Bazz of his advantage. Bazz swiped at the big lupe, but he ducked back.
Brandon lunged again, biting and tearing at the flesh before releasing and pulling back. Brandon moved with the incredible strength and speed typical of the lupine shifters, but he was even more adept than any of the many lupes Bazz had battled and killed over the years. He was a supreme alpha, Bazz could sense that. A normal lupe would be an easy kill one-on-one, but this one was going to be a tougher kill than Bazz expected. And with the vulnerable Phoebe so close and basically helpless against the aggressive lupe, the odds were rendered just about even.
Bazz took another swipe at Brandon and then another, but the cagey lupe kept pulling back, drawing Bazz further from Phoebe and the burning refinery. Bazz resisted, staying close to Phoebe, but he had to enjoin Brandon and end their battle once and for all. Brandon bolted in and snapped again, and Bazz saw his shot. He scooped the big lupe up in his massive forearms and turned to throw him into the burning refinery. But Brandon snapped down onto Bazz’s head, those mighty lupe jaws clamping down with terrific strength. Pain shot through Bazz’s brain, Brandon shaking a bit to drive his fangs deeper, strong enough to pierce his skull.
Bazz roared out and let go of Brandon’s body and grabbed at his jaws to loosen them from his head. Brandon’s weight pulled Bazz forward and down, but the lupe used his hind paws to find purchase on Bazz’s gut, supporting his tremendous weight and holding onto his skull. The pressure was incredible, and Bazz knew his skull wouldn’t withstand much more pressure.
Bang! Bang-bang!
The lupe roared and flinched, barely hurt by Phoebe’s gunfire. Bazz appreciated her effort, though he knew it would do little to help. It did distract Brandon enough for Bazz to twist his great body and wrench harder at the lupe’s jaws, finally loosening his bite grip. Bazz threw Brandon several yards off, Phoebe backing up from his landing to ensure her own safety.
Brandon ducked back, seeming to know he needed to find some strategic advantage. And Bazz knew just what that was going to be. Short of taking Phoebe hostage, there was one attack that any lupe would pursue, a part of the lineage from time immemorial.
Wolves attacked from all sides, Bazz knew, but they killed from the back, ripping out the anus of their pray and disemboweling them alive. And from the rear was the one position where Bazz’s deadly claws and jaws couldn’t reach.
Bazz couldn’t help but think about his father and that last fated fight. He’d faced more than one, overtaken by sheer numbers, and by the vulnerability of his own nearby family. Bazz had dreamt of the similarities, the closing of that fateful cycle, and he knew he’d come to the realization of that vision. It had been more than just a dream, even more than a premonition. It was almost as if his father and mother were reaching out to him from beyond the grave, warning him that he’d face a fate like their own. It hadn’t been merely a chaotic meeting of shifters by the Colorado River, but a clash that was destined to recur again and again in a line marred by tragedy and loss.
No, Bazz thought, I won’t lose my love the way my father lost his, nor my life the way Pop did. I won’t relive the curse of our family. We’re meant to be blessed. I’ll live the blessing and not the curse, and Phoebe… Phoebe is going to live, no matter what!
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The two big shifters tumbled. Bazz knew whichever wound up on the bottom would be at a crucial disadvantage. Even Bazz with his greater size was vulnerable to attack at the belly from such a big and aggressive lupe. And the further they rolled, the further they were from Phoebe. He hoped that she’d run for cover, put as much distance between herself and that facility as possible. But he knew she’d stick by him, she was that loyal and loving and he loved her for that.
But that was not a moment for loving; it was a moment for surviving, for killing.
They tumbled a bit more, Brandon biting into Bazz’s hide, his shoulders and neck and face. The lupe had incredible instincts, murderous energy drawing him to Bazz’s most vulnerable spots. Teeth pulled at his thick hide, shaking to send waves of pain rippling through his upper body.
Bazz was quick to bite back, getting a hold of Brandon’s ear and biting down hard. Bazz pulled hard, the ear tearing off Brandon’s head. He screamed and shook his head, flailing to pull away.
They each released their hold from their exchange, Brandon backing off to find a better point of assault. Blood poured from his new wound, ear dangling by a thread. The two circled around each other, eyes locked and jowls sneering, growling, drool dripping from their fangs.
Brandon was circling around for a shot at Bazz’s vulnerable rear flanks. It was a maneuver meant for a pack assault, but Brandon was clearly fighting on his own. And it was as good a chance as Brandon had other than going straight for Phoebe.
Bazz assumed that Brandon realized that if he did lunge at the girl, he’d be exposing his own backside to his enemy. That would be a suicidal mistake if he didn’t manage to get to his hostage in time.
They circled, the refinery burning hotter, flames growing and time running out. Brandon lurched to the side for a flanking maneuver, but Bazz dodged him, throwing a swipe of his sharp right paw’s claws at the lupe’s face, drawing blood.
But the lupe was quick and agile, and he spun Bazz around in circles, clockwise and then counter, until he finally managed a position behind him. Brandon bit down hard and pulled, then let go. Bazz spun, but Brandon kept pace and bit hard again. Snap and pull, snap and tug and shake; pain shot through Bazz’s body, those bone-crushing jaws tearing at his tissues, ripping tendons and shredding sinew with every terrible bite.
Bazz tried to drop himself down and crush Brandon’s head under his massive weight. His lupe skull would shatter like a china bowl, Bazz knew, and it would be a fitting end to a villainous life. But Brandon let go and ducked back with more than enough time, ready to pounce onto Bazz’s back and start biting into his fleshy neck and shoulders.
Bazz roared and tried to reach back and pull Brandon off him, but the lupe’s paws dug into Bazz’s hide. He pulled and shook like a rabid dog, every shake doing terrific damage. Bazz shook his body but couldn’t dislodge his attacker. He rolled to crush him, but Brandon released and sprang away, quick to spring into another attack, this time at Bazz’s exposed belly.
In the corner of Bazz’s eye, Phoebe looked on, the fire from the refinery casting her in a golden loom. But it was just at that moment that she was besieged by three big goombahs in tracksuits.
One of them yelled, “Look at ‘dis!” Another grabbed Phoebe’s arm as the others closed in. But Phoebe snatched his hand and twisted it hard, flipping the guy over her shoulder in what was by then a well-practiced move. And it worked, the mafia thug flying over her shoulder and into the other two men. They collapsed in a heap of black hair and colorful cotton blends. Phoebe turned to glance at Bazz, who was still tracing her in the corner of his eye as he faced Brandon down. She seemed to know that she couldn’t keep fi
ghting off three men, and that she was about to become a detriment to Bazz’s fight, to their joint effort to save the world and nothing less.
As Bazz’s mother had done to his father, as Bazz had dreamed would happen, Phoebe had to turn and remove herself for the greater good.
Goodbye, my love.
Phoebe ran, and Bazz was glad. He’d hold off Brandon for as long as he could, kill him in the end even at the expense of his own life.
But the three men were quick to recover and one of them grabbed Phoebe’s legs as she fled. She yelped and fell forward, hitting the desert ground hard. She turned and twisted, kicking at the man but unable to free herself before the other two surrounded her. She screamed and disappeared in their midst.
***
Brandon was on top of Bazz, razor-sharp claws digging through his thick hide and toward his soft underbelly. Bazz swiped at the lupe on top of him, good blows to the face and neck. But the lupes had the same quick-healing powers that Bazz and the other ursines had. Brandon kept coming at him, undeterred.
Bazz took a different tack, reaching around with his massive arms and pulling Brandon in for a lethal bearhug. His terrific strength poured into those arms and through them and into his victim, Brandon wailing with fear and pain.
Brandon squirmed in Bazz’s grip, biting down hard onto Bazz’s face, fangs digging into his cheeks. The harder Bazz squeezed, the harder Brandon bit down. The increase of pressure and energy passed from one big shifter and into the other, the centuries-old cycle of violence and hatred between the two playing out in that very moment, each the heir of the tragedy and turmoil of their shared pasts. They were locked in an eternal struggle, but that particular fight wasn’t going to go on much longer.
Brandon threw a hard scratch at Bazz’s groin, pain shooting through him. Bazz barked out a terrible roar and rolled to crush Brandon, but the wily lupe squirmed out and under and away from Bazz just in time. Bazz did roll onto his belly, and he turned to face Brandon again.
But Brandon had already latched on again to Bazz’s hind quarters, a deep bite and a hard yank creating internal bleeding and devastating pain, even to a creature of Bazz’s strength and size.
Pain rattled Bazz’s backside, and the ripping and tearing were beginning to do real damage. Bazz knew he couldn’t let Brandon keep up with his assault. But the cagey lupe seemed to know he was making progress, working his way toward a bloody victory.
Bazz spun but the lupe held on. Bazz smashed his backside down and Brandon let go, making another play for the back of Bazz’s neck to make more progress toward the spine, toward victory, toward death for Sebastian Malloch.
But Bazz anticipated the move and he intercepted the big lupe. Bazz bit down hard on the lupe’s rear flanks and Brandon screamed. The lupe tried to scramble free, but Bazz used his front paws to hold his enemy in place. Bazz bit down harder and reared up with all his strength. The lupe was incredibly heavy, and he reached around and snapped his jaws at Bazz. But he couldn’t reach Bazz, couldn’t manage a hold as Bazz dragged him closer to the burning refinery.
Brandon seemed to know what Bazz had in mind, and Bazz could sense the terror in his enemy, almost taste it in his tissues in those last desperate seconds.
Bazz dragged Brandon closer to the refinery, the heat pulsing out from those raging flames, hot metal melting in a cage of molten death. Brandon clawed at the desert floor, shaking his head and letting out a soul-splitting wail. Despite his strength and position of power, so close to the victory he’d imagined, it was clear that Brandon was looking at the last moments of his life, and they were going to be terrible.
Bazz spun himself around, clockwise, fast and hard and completing one circle and then another, each pass bringing them closer to the refinery. The lupe screamed, trying one last time to reach around and bite down hard on Bazz to prevent the inevitable.
But his time and luck ran out, and Bazz released Brandon, who flew spinning into the refinery’s flames. He cried out as he disappeared into the fire, one of the big tanks falling down in his wake, his screams fading in the crackling fire.
Bazz turned and ran straight for where he saw Phoebe last. The men had dragged her further from the refinery, remaining in a cluster over her. Bazz could hear her muffled screams, sense her flailing as one knelt down and pulled out his cock. Clearly the men had given in to their baser instincts, not caring about who they served or why, abandoning even their will to survive. All those animals wanted to do was predate, to satisfy their basest instincts, to give in to the superficiality and depravity which drove them forward, in this case straight to their deaths.
Bazz charged them, the man between Phoebe’s legs turning to see him coming far too late to protect himself. But there was time to let out a bloodcurdling scream before Bazz raced up and delivered a swift swipe of his paw. The man’s head went flying from his shoulders, a stream of blood stretching from one to the other. The man’s quivering body fell back and Bazz stopped and turned to the other two holding Phoebe down.
Bazz thrust his long, black claws into one of the men’s backs, and he stiffened as Bazz lifted him off the ground and tossed him away. The other man looked up, slowly beginning a retreat that he would never be able to complete.
Bazz jumped over Phoebe and landed squarely on the man, crushing him in that single pounce, blood spurting from his mouth, eyes pushing out of his skull. Bazz brought his paw down onto the man’s skull and threw down another wave of pressure. The bony bowl crunched beneath his weight and the man’s brain splattered into the desert ground.
Bazz turned to Phoebe, sniffing and growling and approaching her with all the loving tenderness of a dedicated servant, a protector, a friend, and a lover.
Phoebe looked up at him, a smile creeping onto her face. “I’m okay,” she said, knowing his concern without him having to ask. Phoebe wrapped her arms around Bazz’s big neck, his cut and torn and bloodied collar soothed by her gentle touch even as she exerted her desperate strength for a loving hug.
“I love you, Bazz, I love you so much, sooo mmmuuuuuch…”
Bazz let a low growl leak out of his throat. He pushed his big head toward Phoebe, rubbing against her face and neck and breasts, nuzzling her with all the gentleness his species could allow. He was no monster, not in her company. He was love and he was loved. They’d both come close to death, too close, but they’d delivered each other, and there seemed only one sweet chore to accomplish between them.
Phoebe climbed up onto Bazz’s back, fists pulling at his hairy hide, legs straddling his broad body. She was a sweet weight on his back, and he relished her place there. He was her mighty steed and she was his beloved. They would serve each other, protect each other, love each other, and no force on earth seemed capable of stopping them. Phoebe patted his head, gave him a little stroke, and said, “Let’s go home, baby.”
Brandon’s otherworldly scream shot through Bazz’s consciousness and he turned to see his enemy charging out of the burning, crumbling refinery. He was completely ablaze, driven by a pain and a power Bazz had never seen.
The battle wasn’t over yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Phoebe clung to Bazz’s back as he jumped out of the burning lupe’s way. Bazz had never imagined a lupe with such strength, driven by hatred and purpose and urgency, adrenalin and the ages pushing it forward in a mad assault. Bazz was amazed that the lupe could still think in that white-hot agony, the eye of a living firestorm.
But Brandon attacked, flames and embers in his wake as he ran at them. Bazz ducked and swiped, sending the burning shifter tumbling and turning and charging again. Bazz swatted hard, Phoebe still clinging to him for protection.
Bazz’s clawed paw hit the flaming lupe hard on the side of the head, sending Brandon spinning while he ducked himself and his precious cargo out of the way. Brandon recovered and attacked again, driving Bazz back despite a series of defensive swipes. Brandon got closer, burning jaws clacking, eyes yellow and round in those crackling oran
ge flames.
Bazz swiped again, long claws catching Brandon’s throat. In that single, swift motion, Bazz pulled the burning windpipe and muscles from the bottom of the lupe’s neck. The creature’s entire throat came free of Brandon’s neck, a huge gaping wound spilling out hot blood and steam.
Bazz backed away again, the crazed lupe still limping toward him. Its mouth opened and snapped shut, eyes rolling back, legs finally buckling beneath it before their enemy finally collapsed in front of them. It lay at their feet, a motionless, hideous inferno, a would-be king at the end of his pitiful reign.
Bazz stepped back, the heat from Brandon’s burning body closer than the burning corpse. The bigger of the two buildings was also on fire, alarms ringing out, columns of black smoke pouring out of the windows. But they seemed to be miles from anywhere, and the damage only drove survivors away, bringing nobody to anybody’s aid.
The two lone survivors looked at the roaring fires in front of them, Bazz’s keener senses fixed on the refinery. One of the big metal tanks, the one not ruptured by the rolling boulder, was swollen, a bubble pushing out from the side. The fires were melting the steel, cooking the chemicals within, a pressure cooker which had been building up to intolerable forces.
Bazz heard a tiny ping, a noise few humans could hear. It was the breaking of the chemical reaction’s weakest link, that tank’s metal finally pierced. When the hot chemical gases hit the ready supply of oxygen, Bazz knew what the result would be.
There was no time to run. And if he tried, Bazz knew in that instant that Phoebe would be incinerated while still on his back, that he’d be rescuing a charred corpse. There was only one choice, and that was to rise up and face the explosion. Bazz’s massive ursine body would protect Phoebe, still clinging to his thick, hairy hide, at least as much as he was able.
