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from a quick and merciful death. The first was, ironically, the
previous wound. The pistol shot had spun Ray and moved him
away from the epicenter of the blast. The second was the
range at which Kit shot. She was across the large room when
she shot, a good twenty feet across the great room. If the
shotgun had not been sawed off, she might have killed him,
or perhaps missed him altogether. As it was, the short barrel
of the gun allowed the silver shot to disperse quicker than
normal and Ray was hit with a widely scattered array of
pellets. If Kit had waited for the wolf to come closer, she
would have cut him in half.****Nonetheless, Ray was hurt
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Cyberblood
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and he was hurt badly. The silver shot had not passed
through him. It was imbedded and already burning hotter
than the fires of Hell. He could feel his form changing and he
hobbled out the door and ran as best he could into the night
in more pain than he believed possible.
Neither woman felt like moving for a very long time. They
didn't know that Ray had left. For all they knew, he was going
to make a counter attack any minute.
After exactly one minute and thirty seven seconds Kit
heard a sound from the front and she shot again at the front
door.
"Shit!" Cried a voice loudly and insistently. "Put the fucking
gun down!"
She noticed a flash light beam cut through the front door.
She lowered the gun.
"Please! I'm here to help! I'm not coming in, but please
don't shoot at me anymore!"**** "Who are you?" Kit called
back.
"Name's John Thurstun, I'm a bodyguard, a PI. Philip
Johnson hired me to watch this cottage, to help you if I could.
He told me to stay outside unless I had to come in. Do you
need me to come in?"
Kit looked at Ginger, who just shook her head. "No, we're
Okay, but are you safe out there?"
"Don't worry, my partner's here. He both have weapons
with the ammo that Mr. Johnson gave us. We'll be Okay. If
you need anything just let us know. We'll camp on the porch
until the authorities show up.
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Kit could see a second flashlight move away from the
cottage about 20 yards, and then move back at a trot. She
heard a second voice "John, you ain't gonna fucking believe
it."
"Believe what? You get the tracks on that dog?"
"Oh yeah they head straight off into the woods over there.
But you ain't gonna believe me."****"Believe you? What the
fuck are you talking about?"
"Well those dog track? They go about twenty yards or so
that way and then there's this big bloody mess like the dog
fell down and bled for a minute and then got up and ran some
more."
"What so remarkable about that?" John was getting angry.
"It was dog track to the mess..." he paused.
"Yes, so?"
"They were man tracks, barefoot, leading away to the
woods."
"You asshole, you can't see shit. Wait here."
The first man trotted down the same path as the first, and
then walked back.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What did you see?"
"Didn't see nothing, now sit down and shut up and guard
the fucking ladies."
"But..."
"But nothing, we were paid to guard some ladies. Not
follow bloody tracks into the night. Now sit there and watch
the door, while I call the boss."
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The girls heard him call Philip, and within twenty minutes
Jean came running in the front door. "Oh God, are you both
Okay?"
"We're fine, Jean" Ginger reassured as she flew into his
arms. She kissed him on the face excitedly. Kit stood like a
third wheel at his side until he looked over and swept her into
his arms. "Thank God, oh Thank God" He said over and over
again. Just then Kit was sure she heard the sound of
sprinklers.
"See, I told you there weren't no fucking tracks, asshole."
She heard from the front porch.
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Chapter 20
Ray was in trouble. He had been shot. Shot with silver. He
was in pain and he was bleeding. He watched from the
momentary safety of the woods as the occupants of the
cottage summoned help. He wondered how they knew about
him. Wondered why they had silver bullets and shot. In his
fevered and pain wracked mind he could only come up with
one answer. It was Her. She had played him for a fool.
She either wanted him dead, which was unlikely, or she
wanted them dead. This seemed very likely. She had stripped
his control, she had planted the thought of driving through
town when he did. She had guided him as a wolf to their
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