Page 78 of The Shade of Things
“I will.” His voice was grim, but his gun hand was steady.
Plugging my nose, I animated Delilah and slid into her green overlay vision of the world, rapidly scanning the room. There, to the right of the group. A dinner plate–sized circle shimmered as if rippling off hot concrete.
I’d seen this before on the Grouse Grind. It was a tear into Gehenna. That’s how these dybbuks had slipped free. There was something important about that beyond the obvious, but it remained frustratingly out of reach.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, barely keeping it together. I couldn’t think with all the noise Daw was making, and I couldn’t do anything about the tear; only Laurent could, and he was in no condition to hear me out.
“Toots, help,” Emmett squeaked.
Laurent had them pinned in a corner.
He and I had barely recovered from the last time I’d cost him his magic. Yes, this would once again be temporary, but he wouldn’t forgive me for it a second time.
Brokenhearted, I stepped between the shifter and everyone else. “Laurent…”
Saliva dripping off his fangs, he bristled, making him larger and more lethal looking.
Not making direct eye contact, I raised my scythe and the beast growled. “Eli, you got extra clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“Give them to me. Everyone, wait by the door and don’t look. Give him privacy.”
“Don’t worry,” Eli said. “I’ll make sure.”
A bundle of clothes hit me in the back. I reached around for them and sighed at the Canucks T-shirt with the sweatpants. “Not funny.”
“It’s all I’ve got.” His voice was strained.
Daw gave an eerie cackle.
Juliette would be my first stop when we got out of here to have the healer check everyone out, but it might be too late for Daw. I prayed it wasn’t for Laurent.
There were footsteps and then Eli gave me the go-ahead.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
The wolf pounced, and I slammed my scythe into his shadow as he barreled into me, knocking me sideways.
Muscle roiled under his fur, the wolf’s torso contorting like something was punching its way out from the inside. His skin stretched tight enough to force his eyes to bulge from their sockets, and his lips yanked back revealing large pink gums.
His wolf form shifted in four violent crunches: legs, arms, torso, head. White fur fell off him like snowflakes, claws hitting the ground like hail. Naked and shivering, Laurent curled his knees tightly into his chest, his human body so fragile and vulnerable in the wake of that savage transformation.
However, the sound of pain that was wrenched from deep inside his chest was pure animal.
I almost ended up with the freed dybbuk inside me because I was stuck on the look of absolute hurt and betrayal that Laurent shot me before he dropped his head, his shadow gone.
I dispatched the malevolent spirit, coldly watching it implode and vanish, dead, then I kneeled at Laurent’s side, my magic recalled. He hadn’t fallen unconscious or stopped breathing, but why was he shaking like that? “Laurent? I’ve got clothes—”
He feebly pushed me away, his teeth chattering. “I’ve got it,” he rasped. He was wound so tight I was scared he would break, despite his strength.
“I had to do it. You know that.”
Slowly, he sat up, pulling on the despised hockey shirt without comment.
“Please say something.”
His fingers flexed and bunched the hem of the shirt. “Leave me be, Miriam,” he said in weary voice like I was one complication too many.
