She began to cross the field, intent on Kestrel, who had seen her now, still trying to stand. Sylvanis pulled out her knife. It reminded her of the time two thousand years ago when she believed she had ended Kestrel’s life and the threat she represented.
Instead, she had caused the chain of events which had led to Kestrel escaping death and coming back here and now. In response, Sylvanis had taken steps to follow her. It had been a desperate move, but one she had believed had been necessary. She wasn’t so sure now it had been.
Yes, Kestrel had already caused great suffering, but what had Sylvanis done to stop her? She had tried, of course, but Kestrel had always been one step ahead of her. Thanks in large part because of Syndor, Samuel now. She gave a passing thought as to where Samuel might be. It seemed odd he wasn’t there at Kestrel’s side during her weakest moment.
She could end this, now. Kestrel was so weakened by her spell; she could not draw upon her magic to protect her. She wouldn’t be capable of putting up much of a physical fight either.
With a grim determination, she weaved her way through the fighting Weres, hoping they would at least buy her time to get this done.
Clint felt the tusks of the Boar pierce his back, one puncturing his kidney. The blunt force trauma of the Boar’s head broke his back as it hit. And he sailed through the air.
He focused his mind immediately on healing his back and almost had the concentration jarred from him as he landed. As feeling came back to his lower limbs, he rolled on instinct.
With a crash, the Boar landed in the exact spot his head had been. The hooves would have caved in his skull if he had landed on Clint. Bouncing back to his feet, he wheeled toward the Boar who sneered at him.
“I’ve enjoyed your girlfriend, you know? She has the nicest ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of buggering.”
Clint growled feeling the fury build inside him. He could feel the animalistic hunger to kill rise. It took all his will to stamp it back down. He would not let himself become lost again. Never again. Too often he had allowed his rage to cloud his thoughts. He knew the asshole baited him. Clint wondered if he could get as good as he gave.
“Really?” Clint cocked his head. “Even better than your mom’s?”
Clint got the answer he was looking for, but perhaps not the answer he wanted as the Boar roared with furious anger and launched himself at Clint.
By now, Clint’s body had repaired itself and he was ready to fight.
The ferocity which the Boar came at him frightened Clint. It reminded him of how he had been when he had gone wild. When he had lost all control over the Wolf inside and let it control his thoughts and actions. Remembering those times brought a strong sense of guilt which threatened to overwhelm him.
He had no time for guilt though as the Boar was upon him in seconds, lashing out with his claws. One raked Clint’s abdomen, slicing through skin and muscle, but Clint had arched his body back to avoid being eviscerated.
As the other claw came in, Clint met it with a claw of his own, slicing into the Boar’s wrist tendons, cutting them cleanly. The Boar roared again, this time in pain.
Clint didn’t let up. Snarling, he bit down on the bicep of the same arm, his fangs ripping into flesh, muscle and scoring bone. With a yank, he ripped his head back, pulling off a meaty chunk of the Boar’s arm muscle.
The Boar pulled away from him, grabbing his arm with his other hand to staunch the bleeding. Clint spat out the disgusting piece of flesh and renewed his attack.
Darting in, he slashed and cut with his claws, raking this way and that across the Boar’s exposed flesh. With one arm useless for the moment, the Boar could do little to fend of his attacks. Which Clint had counted on.
Again, and again he struck, laying bare and flaying the Boar’s skin and muscle. The Boar would heal, but if you damaged enough of him, he would be slow to heal everything. If you kept up the attacks, you could overwhelm the body to the point it would become vulnerable to more powerful attacks.
Muscle began rebuilding itself in the open wound of the Boar’s arm, so he charged the Boar who continually gave ground beneath Clint’s attack.
The Boar, intent on stopping Clint, reached out to grab at him. Clint went low, slicing the femoral artery in the Boar’s leg as he ducked past, almost running on four limbs, then turned and snapped out with his jaws, closing on the Boar’s hamstring. His sharp teeth sliced through it, and the Boar screamed and fell, losing the ability to put any weight on that foot.
Clint bounded up once again and rounded on the man who had taken his love from him. The beast who had done untold horrible things to her while Clint could do nothing to stop him. He would stop him today. He would free Sarah from this creature’s control. Free her from being a Were in service to that bitch Kestrel and this monster.
Once again, instinct saved him as he hopped back from the attack from the Croc, now recovered from Clint’s initial attack.
Clint roared. This fucker would delay him long enough for the Boar to heal. He couldn’t let that happen. Clint leaped upon the back of the Croc as he passed by in his attempt to gore Clint.
Reaching up, he dragged his claws down the sides of the Croc’s head, cutting through scaled hide and tearing open its eyeballs. The Croc thrashed around to rid itself of Clint, but he dug his claws in deep and all he managed to do was damage itself further.
As the thrashing slowed, Clint reached forward again and grabbed the Croc’s upper jaw and he began pulling back with all his might. He could feel the Croc’s maw fighting to close, but he leaned back and pulled harder.
The Croc staggered around, blind and in pain as it tried to figure out a way to free himself of Clint. With a violent roar which pierced the surrounding forest, sending birds squawking into the air, Clint put all his weight into a bone and tendon ripping pull.
With a snap, Clint felt the upper jaw pull lose from the lower one and he twisted and threw himself to the side. It made a disgusting tearing sound when the tendons and muscle ripped apart as Clint yanked the upper half of the Croc’s face off.
With a crash, Clint fell backward, and the Croc collapsed on top of him, showering him with blood. Releasing the Croc, Clint scrambled out from underneath the massive weight of the Croc.
He didn’t know if the Croc would heal, but for the moment, it lay there unmoving.
Turning, Clint glanced back to where he had left the Boar, hamstringed and prone.
He was neither now. Back on his feet, the Boar sized him up, growled and started forward.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Chapter Forty-Four
Kat tumbled to the ground, bleeding profusely from the severed forearm the Croc had just got done sending down its gullet. She was in a bad way. She had done little to the Croc. Mostly minor wounds which it had long since repaired.
Willing her body to repair the arm, she could feel the warmth as her body responded by first shunting off the blood and rebuilding her forearm. Stem cells flowed through her body to form bone cells, muscle cells, tissue and blood vessels. It was the most grievous wound she had ever received and while she believed she would heal; she hadn’t needed to heal something so severe in previous fights.
The Croc dropped his gaze back toward her after tilting his head up to swallow down Kat’s arm.
“Mmmm, yummy.”
Kat didn’t have it in her for some witty banter. She needed to bide some time while her arm healed.
The Croc must have sensed her plan as it began stalking toward her.
“Now, for the rest of you,” he mused.
Kat scrambled back, trying to keep some distance between them, but the Croc continued to close the distance.
Snatching out with his clawed hand it grabbed at her ankle, dragged her closer and lifted her up into the air. She swiped at his arm but was unable to put enough power into the swings to do more than merely cut him superficially. Instead, she went limp and poured every ounce of her will into her arm. The burning feeling of rapid heali
ng, like a balm to her, confirmed her arm would heal. It simply needed to hurry the fuck up.
Lifting her high, he brought her almost to eye level so he could stare into her eyes. She watched in horror as first the sides of his mouth peeled back in a frightful smile, before he opened his jaws and tilted his head.
She got feeling back into her once missing hand and with a hard swing she lifted her upper torso up and latched onto the underside of the Croc’s mouth. At last having something to use as support, she pulled down, hard on her leg, yanking it out of the Croc’s grasp, and she could feel the ankle bone slip out of its socket as she did.
Letting go, she dropped down and tried to throw herself free.
It was too late. With a twist of his head, the Croc brought his maw down and around her midsection, biting deep into it. The power of the Croc’s jaws closing around her, crushed her ribcage, and punctured her stomach and intestines. She could feel stomach acid leaking out into her body.
He continued to bear down on her with his jaws and she could do little but cry out in pain. Despite being used to having her body transition from Tiger to human and from human to Tiger, this pain was excruciating in comparison.
Pain lit up her insides as the bones of her ribs were squeezed into her lungs, punctured and deflated it. It was only a matter of time before her heart was crushed as well.
She would die. She had failed. All her training. Everything her parents had tried to prepare her for had all been for naught. She would die here in this park, eaten by a humanoid crocodile. If she could have laughed, she would have. If she had been told this would have been her fate a year ago, she would have died laughing at the ridiculousness of the notion. And yet, here she was.
The pain lessened now; she could feel her body losing the battle of healing the damage quicker than she received it.
Then everything went sideways. Trees, sky, ground, she hit the dirt with a groan. She could hardly move, but she managed to tilt her head enough.
The Croc fought someone else. Jessie?
Lying on the ground with his face battered and broken, Jessie could do little but wait for the inevitable as the sounds of heavy footsteps came for him.
What the fuck are you doing, Jessie? You have never given up this easily. Are you a marine or a fucking pussy!? He recognized the voice in his head. It was the voice of his drill sergeant in the Corps.
He had been right though. Jessie always fought. He fought till he had nothing left. And that wasn’t now.
Rolling farther away from the oncoming Croc, he managed to get his legs under him and stood, turning to face the Croc. He could feel the bones in his face knitting up and he peeled his lips back in a snarl.
Crouching, he waited for the Croc to come to him. The longer he had to heal, the better.
With measured steps, the Croc came at him, wary now Jessie had managed to recover from his initial attack.
“Come get me, you ugly motherfucker,” Jessie taunted, waving him forward with his hand.
The moment the Croc started to charge him, Jessie darted forward, getting in close before the Croc could get ready. Ducking low under the Croc’s grasp, he crossed his arms and brought them back out in a crisscross slash, digging deep into the softer underbelly of the Croc.
Tearing open the skin and muscle, Jessie was greeted with a pouring out of intestines, their reek accosting his keen sense of smell. Not wanting to lose his momentum, he choked back the bile rising in his own belly and snatched at the grayish twisting snake of the man’s guts and sheared through them, leaving them in tatters.
The Croc roared and reared back – a mistake as it left its torso at Jessie’s mercy.
He didn’t show it any.
In what was without doubt the most disturbing and disgusting thing he had ever done, he reached into the Croc’s torso and grabbed anything he could get his hands on and ripped it out. Stomach, liver and a few other things Jessie couldn’t identify were dragged out and torn asunder by Jessie.
Wailing, the Croc swiped at him with a back hand, knocking him away. Jessie staggered, reeling from the blow. Recovering he readied himself for a counterattack, but instead the Croc fled, trailing pieces of his insides as he ran.
Spinning, he searched for Kat.
He gasped when he saw her being crushed in the mouth of the larger Croc. Without a second thought, he moved.
He crashed into the Croc at full speed, knocking the bigger beast over, and sending Kat flying. He pounced on the prone Croc, slashing and biting everywhere he could reach.
With no doubt in Jessie’s mind he could stand up to this Croc alone, he attacked with everything he had. If it had beaten Kat, the strongest and ablest fighter he knew, as much as it hurt his ego, he knew he would fare no better. His best chance was to last long enough to do enough damage, or at least take as little damage as he could and give Kat time to heal.
With a powerful thrust, the Croc threw him off and Jessie managed to land on his feet and throw himself back on the Croc before the beast could fully rise. He managed to once again knock the Croc down and he launched his offensive all over again. Biting and clawing.
He tried to tear off a piece of flesh with his teeth when he felt enormous hands grasp either side of his head. Bit by bit, the hands pulled his head away from where they had been biting and Jessie could only watch in amazement at the power of this creature as he climbed to his feet, still holding Jessie’s head between his massive claws.
His head ached with the intense pressure the Croc put on his skull. He didn’t know how long his head would hold up to the crushing squeeze.
Snarling, he reached up and grabbed the wrists of the beast and punched his claws in between the tibia and fibula bones, twisting he snapped the smaller bones in each arm.
He felt the pressure release on his head, and he dropped to the ground, staggering. The Croc moved away from him, creating some distance so he could heal his broken bones. Jessie couldn’t give him the chance.
Charging, he launched himself at the Croc, claws out. The Croc grappled with him and Jessie used his weight to push back, snapping the healing wrists further.
The Croc snapped out, and Jessie had to duck and dodge to avoid getting his head bitten off as he forced the Croc back. With a sweep of his leg, he knocked the Croc off his feet and Jessie went down with him, landing with a heavy thud on top of the Croc.
This close to the Croc’s body, he couldn’t snap at Jessie with his mouth. Jessie continued to yank and twist on the Croc’s wrists, breaking them again and again as they repaired themselves.
As much as he incapacitated the Croc, he wasn’t doing much of anything else. He couldn’t further damage him from where he was, but if he released the Croc, he would be giving him a chance to heal.
For the moment, it was all he could do.
Then the Croc managed to get his tail under him and leverage himself over, tossing Jessie off, before landing on him. The only thing saving him was the Croc could not support himself with his arms as his wrists were still broken, but now he was on top and Jessie’s hands were pressed to the ground, unable to twist his hands to keep breaking the Croc’s wrists.
Soon, his wrists would heal, and he would be in a position to bite Jessie.
Jessie did not want to be there when that happened.
Chapter Forty-Five
Sylvanis flowed across the plush grass as she went to Kestrel. Kestrel’s bodyguards were now preoccupied with trying to survive against a twenty-foot column of stone and dirt which attacked them with the quickness of an adder.
Kestrel watched her approach with murder in her eyes and perhaps, a little bit of fear. She had managed to rise and now backed away from Sylvanis.
“You have failed, Kestrel. All your threats. All your plans have failed.” Sylvanis shook her head. “What a waste. You had such potential to do good. To really make a change.”
“I have made a change!” Kestrel spat at her. “Look at what I’ve done!” She motioned to the city which surrou
nded the park. So many of the city’s skyline were gone now, the tall buildings nothing more than rubble and instead, mighty trees had taken their place.
Sylvanis stared around at the devastation. “Yes. Look at what you have done,” she replied with scorn. “You have used your magic to raise mighty, majestic trees, the likes of which no one has ever seen before. You raised them, and now, when you are gone, they will cut them all down and build their city once again.” She shook her head again.
“You have wasted your magic. You could have used it to create marvels in places which had already been set aside for the appreciation of nature. But instead you used it to destroy something which will only be built again. It is what they do. This is their home.” Sorrow tinged her voice. “Can’t you see that? You destroyed their homes and they will not let that stand.”
“They won’t have a choice. This is only the beginning. I will move to city after city and nature will rise again and again to take back what they stole from nature in the first place.”
Sylvanis continued to stalk Kestrel. “There is no going back, Kestrel. Humans are animals too. They are part of nature. What you are doing is tantamount to destroying a beaver’s den because it killed trees to build it. It is not our place to decide which animal to condemn and which to embrace. Either they all have their rights, or they don’t.”
Kestrel sneered at her. “You are a fool, Sylvanis. You always have been. All humans do is destroy. They have no respect for the world around them.”
Sylvanis cocked her head and offered a small nod. “Some don’t. That is true. But many, many others do.” She realized she was back to this same old argument she had been having with Kestrel since before the first war. It was circular and pointless. They would never agree.
“This is done, Kestrel. You haven’t the strength to fight me.” She moved forward with her knife. “Ruemhach trahb.”
Roots sprung up from beneath Kestrel, snaking around her bare ankles and wrapping up her calves and thighs. Kestrel yelled and tried to pull at the dirty, hoary roots holding her fast, but she hadn’t the strength.
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