Fields of Blood (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 2) by Sonya Bateman Page B

way there. I still didn’t think Sheriff Gormann had completely bought our story—and all she had to do was check with the Laurents, whoever they were.
    I had my foot on the brake, ready to shift into gear, when a bright flash of light exploded from the path, momentarily erasing shadows and blazing through the pine branches like white fire.
    “Oh my God,” Sadie half-whispered. “The moonstaff. They wouldn’t—”
    Something howled. The long, hungry sound shivered down my spine.
    Sadie grabbed for the door handle. “Stay here. I’ll handle them,” she said angrily, popping the door to jump out and slam it shut before Taeral or I could protest.
    That was when I noticed the silent column of shapes pouring out of the path. Tall and loping and furry, moving impossibly fast. One of the shapes launched itself from the ground and sailed through the air.
    And a werewolf landed on my hood.
     
     

C HAPTER 15

     
    M etal crunched and buckled with the impact of the werewolf’s leap. It crouched in front of the windshield, gold eyes glittering and muzzle wrinkled in a silent snarl to show long ivory fangs.
    “Uh, Taeral—”
    It was all I got out before the werewolf threw a fist at the windshield, and shattered it.
    “Shit!” I scrambled over the seat. The wolf’s growl chased me as it crawled through the broken glass, over the steering wheel.
    In the back, I found Taeral dumping one of the bags we’d brought on the floor. “Where are the weapons?” he shouted.
    “No time! We’ve got company, now. ”
    He cut a glance at the front and swept an arm out. “ À dionadth ,” he said.
    The air behind the seats rippled like a desert mirage, seconds before the werewolf lunged. The snarling beast smashed into nothing with a startled yelp. Shaking its head, it roared and reared back to slash at the unseen barrier.
    “What the hell is that?” I said, remembering I’d seen him do it once before at Milus Dei headquarters in New York. I didn’t have time to ask about it then.
    “A shield. Help me find the guns.”
    I grabbed the nearest bag, shaking my head. “They’re werewolves,” I said as I yanked the zipper open. “Bullets don’t stop them. Unless they’re silver.”
    “They’ll slow them down.”
    “Shouldn’t we let Sadie—”
    Something smashed into the side of the van, hard enough to dent the wall and rock it up on two wheels.
    “Right,” I said. “Slowing them down is good.”
    A long beat of silence made me look back. The glass-smashing werewolf was gone. I really wished I could believe that was a good sign.
    Before I could dump the bag I held, there was a tortured shriek of metal from the back of the van as one of the doors was ripped off the hinges. A massive paw battered the other door, folding it like an accordion.
    Two wolves jumped in, grabbed Taeral and dragged him out.
    Okay, I wasn’t going to find the guns in time. Change of plans. I half-turned, headed for the front where the fangs and claws weren’t—only to collide abruptly with the invisible shield I’d managed to forget about.
    When I turned back, I was face to face with the werewolf who’d landed on the van.
    I hadn’t even heard it coming.
    It grinned and grabbed my throat. The grip was like steel, choking the breath from me. I grabbed the arm with both hands and tried to force it away, but it was like pushing on cement.
    My blades. I had two of them in my jacket—and I knew werewolves could bleed.
    The wolf dragged me toward outside, and I thrust a hand in my pocket. My vision dimmed with the lack of air, and dizziness threatened to spin me unconscious. My fingers brushed a handle.
    As I gripped the curved dagger Taeral had given me, the wolf jumped out of the van and lifted me by the throat. Its lips curled in a wicked, toothy smile.
    I pulled the knife and plunged the blade through its forearm.
    The wolf let out a pained roar. Its grip relaxed, and I dropped to the ground. As I scrambled to my feet, gasping for breath,