"Are you a big Wolverine fan?" I asked him as we hiked down a dark road.

He stroked one of his mutton chops. "Yep."

"He's pretty cool." I found a road sign and got my bearings. "You ready to do some running?"

Ryland showed his teeth and stretched his arms. "I thought you'd never ask."

It was dark and nobody was in sight. I zipped away, looking behind me to see how far he was lagging behind. I heard a chuckle and looked to my left. He was pacing me without breaking a sweat. I could've gone faster but I didn't want to waste the energy. After winding our way down some back streets, we flashed down a ragged asphalt road and to an abandoned property with warehouses. I stopped and stared at the place the warehouses should have been. At the place where Stacey lived.

All I found was rubble, flame, and smoke.

Chapter 8

Ryland stared at the destruction and wrinkled his nose. "Sulfur."

I tested the air and caught a faint whiff as well. "What does that mean?"

"Surely you've heard of brimstone."

"Like the stuff from Hell?"

He nodded. "This sulfur odor is not natural."

I couldn't tell the difference. It all smelled like rotten eggs to me. I saw a small form on the ground and ran to it. A pile of concrete had crushed a calico cat. A quick glance around revealed more tiny bodies strewn about. "Oh no." I looked around frantically for the body of a woman or a large cat, my heart aching at the thought of Stacey being hurt or killed. "Stacey?" I called. "Stacey!"

No answer.

Flames flickered in the ruins of several buildings, casting an eerie glow across the shadowy mounds. My blue-tinged night vision kicked on and off as I stared at them.

"You know someone who lives here?" Ryland said.

"Yeah. A friend."

"All I smell is sulfur and felines."

"Dead felines?"

He drew in a whiff. "It's too soon to tell. This happened very recently."

"What's the deal with brimstone and sulfur? You know who did it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

"Obviously."

"Sulfur usually means demons. Since demons can't just waltz into this realm without a lot of fuss and bother, that would mean manifested demon spawn or their ilk were here." His silvery eyes glinted as orange flames licked and consumed a large wooden beam.

Ryland knelt and examined a shoe print. "I'll survey the perimeter."

"Thanks." After he left, I stared at the rubble and took deep breaths. I hadn't known Stacey long, but I considered her a friend, even if we had met because she was trying to feed off me. Worry settled a hard knot into my stomach and I couldn't just sit around and do nothing. So I grabbed a large chunk of mortar and tossed it onto a patch of bare ground twenty feet away. I grabbed more bricks and tossed them in the same spot. Soon I'd cleared a little of the area where one of the warehouses had stood, but it'd take a while before I put much of a dent in it.

On the other side of me lay the bodies of several cats I'd pulled from the wreckage, all of them crushed when they'd been caught in the avalanche of bricks, wood, and metal. Some of their remains consisted of little more than bloody, furry goo, but I knew Stacey would mourn them all and want bodies to bury. Ryland rejoined me a moment later.

"Hellhounds," he said grimly. "At least three of them."

"Those sons of bitches," I said crushing a brick in my hand to dust.

"These things ain't got mothers," Ryland replied with a tight grin.

"They were chasing us earlier today. My dad's family, the Slades, wanted us."

"Were they trying to kill you? Or retrieve you?"

"I have no idea." The thought of one of those monsters retrieving me like a stick was unsettling. I pulled a huge wooden beam from the mess and threw it angrily at the stack of debris. "Why would they come here? How could they possibly know about Stacey?"

"Have you been here recently?"

My knees went weak once I realized the meaning behind his question. I'd been here only a day or two ago, asking Stacey to help me rescue my father. "They followed my scent from my house to here."

Ryland nodded. "I thought I smelled you by that building over there," he said, pointing to what remained of the building where I'd last met Stacey.

I raced to the rubble heap where it had stood and searched frantically for a flash of blonde hair or the hint of fair skin among the debris. My stomach clenched as visions of Stacey's broken bloody body flashed into my head. But I found nothing.

"How can I help?" Ryland asked as he looked into my worried eyes.

"I need to find Stacey. Cute blonde with fair skin." I stared at the mountain of rubble. "She might be somewhere in there."

"I'll need to change," Ryland said, removing his clothes. "So don't be alarmed."

"Thanks," I said, my mind too worried to even think of feeling awkward as he removed the last article of clothing from his body. Thick black hair covered his chest and legs, though he didn't have a field of monkey hair on his back. His body was well-muscled but lean and lithe. A long scar ran from one shoulder to the opposite side of his abdomen. A puckered scar covered the joint of his right shoulder. I wondered how a creature with supernatural healing could have scars. Then again, lycans might heal differently for all I knew.

Ryland took a deep breath and stretched his arms wide, then toppled toward the ground. Before he hit, his body seemed to melt. Thick black fur erupted from his skin. His arms and legs folded smoothly, paws forming from feet and hands, joints twisting forward, while his face shifted into a long lean muzzle. Within seconds, a massive black wolf, his shoulders higher than my waist, regarded me with huge silver eyes and a big wolf grin. Ever since my growth spurt, I'd crossed the six-foot line, meaning this wolf was the biggest one I'd ever seen. A horse could ride him.

"Wow," I said, staring at the magnificent beast. I'd been expecting a lot of the nauseating bone-popping and crunching, not to mention yowling that accompanied one of Stacey's transformations. Ryland made it look effortless.

The wolf lowered his muzzle to the ground and sniffed. Ears perked, he stared at some point in the darkness for a second. I wondered if he'd seen a squirrel. He circled the rubble, nose to the ground for several minutes before he looked at me and made a yipping noise. I followed him into the gloom away from the rubble. As we drew closer to the edge of the warehouses, my night vision picked up the hint of something wet amongst the leaves. I touched a finger to it and sniffed. The coppery odor of blood tingled in my nose.

Ryland picked up the pace then stopped in his tracks, ears pointed like radar dishes and alert. With a low growl, he stared back across the destroyed warehouses, ears flattening. He looked at me and pawed the ground, evidently wanting me to wait there. I sniffed the air as well, but caught nothing unusual. Ryland flashed away, his black fur camouflaging him perfectly against the wrecked buildings.

Leaves rustled behind me. I spun, arms cocked and at the ready. A young girl with long black hair cowered at the edge of the woods. I took a deep breath. She was naked as a newborn, her small breasts reacting predictably to the chilly weather. I had never seen her before and wondered briefly if Stacey could alter her human appearance, or if she had a felycan friend she'd neglected to tell me about. The girl's dark olive skin was smooth and flawless. Bright green eyes with a slight slant peered at me with curiosity.

"Is that you, Stacey?" I asked.

She smiled shyly and shook her head.

"Who are you?"

Her silent gaze was the only response. After a moment, she took a cautious step toward me. I stayed perfectly still, wondering if she was going to sprout fangs and eat me, or if she was as harmless as she looked. She came within a foot and stopped, her breath fogging the air between us. Her petite hands reached for my face. I resisted the reflexive urge to jerk away and remained perfectly still as she touched my face, my lips, my ears, and ran a hand through my hair, her body shivering slightly. She was a little more than a head shorter than me, and beautiful in an exotic way. She smelled slightly of ginger and flowers in a warm spring breeze.

I heard a howl in the distance and my blood froze. She heard it too. But instead of fear, her eyes reflected anger and a cute scowl settled onto her face.

"Do you know where Stacey is?"

She looked back at me, her head tilted to the side.

"Stacey. Where is she?"

Her eyes widened in understanding and she motioned me to follow. More howls rang out in the night air. I couldn't tell if they were wolf howls or hellhounds, and my blood felt like liquid nitrogen in my veins.

The girl stopped next to a tree. I looked down and saw blonde hair and fair skin peeking from behind a black shredded skirt, similar to the one Stacey had worn while helping me rescue my dad.

"Stacey!" I dropped to my knees and turned her on her back. She was breathing, but barely. A huge bite wound festered on her thigh. One of her arms had a deep scratch with a foul-smelling white fluid pooling in it. "What's wrong with her?" I said, looking up at the girl. Except she was gone. I looked around, heart racing as more howls pierced the air. I shook Stacey, trying to wake her up, but it was no good. Carrying her like an infant cradled in my arms, I ran from the woods, not knowing what else to do.

A loud yelp echoed nearby. Massive shadows flickered against a brick wall that had somehow remained standing. I raced toward it and spotted a massive black hound battling with Ryland, its yellow eyes glowing like pools of irradiated urine. The two seemed evenly matched, though the hellhound was missing a large chunk of one ear and had a limp. Ryland looked no worse for the wear.

The hound growled, its sharp blackened teeth bared. It lunged. Ryland dodged with ease. His jaws opened wide. He lunged. Sharp teeth snapped onto the hellhound's neck and bit down with a savage crunch. The hound loosed a strangled yelp before its body went limp and thick black blood pooled on the ground beneath its mouth. The suffocating odor of sulfur suffused the air, causing me to gag. Ryland backed away, shaking the hound's neck from his mouth and sneezing viciously.