Page 103 of Bloodhunter

I nodded. Bay Town was full of supernaturals. None of themwere safe, and many of them would die that night. “Let’s go,” I whispered, whenfinally the cops threw the wolves into the back of a cruiser and sped off,siren wailing.

The humans were scared, and they were angry.

They were dying.

And supernaturals would suffer for that.

Ten minutes later we arrived at Angus’s house. I was nearly certainhe wouldn’t be there—surely he’d hide with his children. Angus would know howto avoid the human police.

But he was beside his front door, and he wasn’t alone.

He had Derry pressed up against the wall behind him, and heused himself as a shield while the police advanced, screaming, shotguns aimed.

I’d seen those guns before. The police didn’t bring the usualhuman weapons to Bay Town. The shotguns fired long-range electroshockprojectiles, powerful enough to take down a shifted supernatural.

“He’s dead,” Shane said. “We need to go. There’s nothing wecan do for him now, Trinity.”

“I’m not leaving,” I whispered, fiercely. “Don’t fight them,Angus. Don’t fight.”

But he was Angus, he was a bull, and he was protecting hiskid. He was going to fight.

He began to shift, as did his daughter, and he was fast. Hisanimal was impressive—enormous and black with long, sharp horns and massivehooves. And he was mad.

He charged the cops. He stomped one and gored another, thenrammed his huge body into the third. The cop flew through the air and landedwith a bone-crunching thud, as though he’d been hit with a truck.

Two dozen cops came running. They surrounded him, and everysingle one of them began to shoot.

It was torture to watch. I wanted to look away. I needed to.

But I wouldn’t.

Derry had abandoned her shift and crouched against the wall,her arms over her head, screaming.

“God,” I murmured.

“Trinity, let’s go. We can’t save him. If we kill the demon,maybe we can—”

“Shut up,” I cried. “No!”

Angus went down, his body jerking from the electricity theyhit him with, and when he was on the ground, they rushed him. Yelling, vicious,mean. Bloodlust had taken them, and they began kicking the shit out of him.Beating him with the butts of their shotguns. Killing him.

“Oh, you bastards.” And before Shane could stop me, I beganrunning.

Not for Angus. I wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t help him.

I headed for Derry. I would save his child.

The cops were busy brutalizing her dad, and they weren’teven thinking of the young girl cowering against the house.

I grabbed her arm, yanked her up, and ran back the way I’dcome. She sobbed, but she ran with me.

“Trinity,” she cried. “They’re hurting him.”

I didn’t try to tell her he’d be okay. I didn’t believe hewould be, and neither did she. Supernaturals were well versed in the ways ofthe human world in which they lived.

Even if some of the younger ones had never been hurt by theviolence of a human, they’d been born beneath the constant threat of it. Thatnever went away. They knew what could happen to them. Theysawwhatcould happen to them.

So Derry didn’t flinch when she had the chance to flee. Sheheld my hand with a strength that nearly broke my fingers, and she flew overthe ground so fast that in the end, she was pulling me along.