Master of Wolves by Angela Knight

that would erase her magical trail.
    But even as she completed the complicated enchantment and collapsed her gate, a second portal opened. A magical blast lanced from it, tearing apart her invisibility spell.
    â€œThere you are, you little bitch!” A guard with a pentagram tattooed on his bald skull leaped through the portal. Four of his fellow cultists followed him, swords in hand, armor gleaming. “You’re going to die for that.”
    Reynolds howled a battle cry and charged them, as Celestine gathered her own magic. Apparently the rest of the guards was staying behind to guard the grail.
    Good thing, too. They were going to have their hands full as it was.
    Â 
    Faith was still driving around brooding at ten thirty when she got the call from dispatch.
    â€œTayanita, Clarkston 2-4?” Her unit number was 24.
    She picked up the handset and keyed it. “Clarkston 2-4, Tayanita.”
    â€œElderly caller reports somebody’s in the woods behind her house, fighting and setting off fireworks. She’s afraid they’re going to burn down her house. Two-nine-nine Andrews Lane.”
    â€œClarkston 2-4, en route.” Faith put the handset back in its clip on the side of the radio and hit the gas. She didn’t bother with lights and sirens, since it was hardly an emergency call. Weird time of the year for fireworks, though. Probably kids. That kind of thing usually was.
    Since setting off fireworks was against city ordinance, she’d just go confiscate them and run the kids off. Once she got done dealing with that, it would probably be time to head back to the department for shift change.
    Afterward, I’ll drop by the jail for an head count, Faith decided. Make sure none of them end up dead in the morning.
    Â 
    The house at 299 Andrews Lane was located on the outskirts of her patrol zone, next door to a heavily wooded lot. As Faith pulled up in front of the neat white farmhouse, a flash of red light went off in the depths of the trees, followed by a loud crack.
    She frowned. Didn’t really sound like fireworks, but it wasn’t gunfire, either.
    Faith pulled over and parked, then started to radio dispatch that she’d arrived. Before she could even pick up the handset, Rambo went out of his mind, barking hysterically right in her ear.
    â€œâ€™Bo, be quiet!” she snapped, glaring over her shoulder at the furious animal. “What’s wrong with you?”
    The dog usually wasn’t a barker, but he refused to shut up this time. After trying and failing to hush him, Faith finally yelled, “Clarkston 2-4, 10-8 at 299 Andrews Lane!”
    She could barely hear the dispatcher’s reply. “Ten-Four, Clarkston 2-4.”
    Disgusted, Faith tossed the handset down, swung open the car door, and got out, ignoring Rambo’s deep-throated protests.
    Grabbing her hat from the seat, she put it on and collected her heavy flashlight from its charger. Accompanied by the K-9’s despairing barks, she flicked on the flash and started toward the woods.
    Blue light flared in the woods, followed by a hollow boom. She frowned and picked up her pace. That definitely didn’t sound like fireworks.
    Â 
    Seething with frustration, Jim watched another magical blast light up the woods as Faith strode blindly toward disaster.
    A light show that intense had to mean they’d stumbled onto the vampire, who was doing battle with something just as powerful as she was. Which meant the woman Jim loved was about to get her pretty head handed to her.
    And here he was without opposable thumbs to open the flipping car door.
    Luckily the windows of K-9 units were tinted; Faith wouldn’t have been able to see in even if it wasn’t the dead of night. He called the magic and waited as it spilled over him in a wave of burning energy.
    A moment later, he was human again, crouched in the rear of the car. Unfortunately, he’d already noticed they’d taken the interior