Oison raised the sword again. Graham roared as it came down, then he heaved himself up to meet it.

He noted with satisfaction Oison’s look of surprise. Graham was strong, stronger than any Shifter he knew, and Oison was going to find out just how strong.

The sword was in him, but Graham wrapped his hands around Oison’s throat. The Fae’s slim neck was sturdy, but Fae were of the same basic composition as Shifters or humans. They needed air to breathe, blood to flow through their bodies.

Graham pressed his fingers into Oison’s throat, cutting off the airflow. If he crushed the trachea, no more Oison. He hoped he could do it before his own breath ran out.

He thought he heard Misty’s voice calling his name. Graham!

Graham could barely see. He thought he heard the throb of a Harley, which wound him into memories. He and Dougal riding side by side, wind in their faces, charging down an empty Nevada highway as fast as they could go. Riding hard.

Other voices joined Misty’s. Eric. Diego and Xav. The wild yips of Kyle and Matt. Two small bodies whacked into Oison, and Graham lost his hold. Damn it.

Graham cracked open his eyes. Matt and Kyle were growling and snarling, climbing all over Oison. Graham seemed to see, superimposed on the cubs, two gigantic wolves, their muzzles huge, eyes red with fury. They were too thick of body and broad of chest to be regular Shifter wolves—these were something he’d never seen before.

Graham blinked, and they were the cubs again, tearing at Oison, who batted at them as though they were annoying gnats.

“Misty, no!” Xavier’s voice, and Misty charging past Xav, not listening. Typical. When Misty got the bit between her teeth, there was no stopping her.

Electricity crackled, and there was Misty, a Taser in her hand. “Matt, Kyle, out of the way.” The cubs turned to stare, yelped, and leapt to the ground. “Get away from my mate, ass**le,” Misty said clearly, and she shot a bolt of electricity into Oison.

Graham had to laugh to see the Fae jolt with the shot. Oison let go of the sword, but not before an arc had laced down the blade into Graham. Graham grunted and fell back, Dougal still beneath him.

Misty was crying, on her knees next to Graham. Graham had enough energy left to open his eyes, to lift his arm to reach for her.

Oison recovered—Fae were almost as tough to kill as Shifters. His black eyes like mouths to hell, Oison yanked the sword out of Graham, and swung it at Misty.

The cubs went crazy again, leaping at him. Xavier slid out his Sig, and aimed it at Oison, but he couldn’t shoot because he might hit the cubs.

Air popped, and Reid appeared, out of breath, filthy, his eyes as merciless as Oison’s. He shoved Oison away from Misty, and the sword blade went wide. Oison, furious, turned to face Reid.

The two Fae fought, Reid grappling with him for the sword, rage on his face. Xavier kept trying to aim, but he had no clear shot. Reid landed a hit across Oison’s face, drawing blood, but Oison backed up, his grip on his sword true again, and rammed the blade at Reid.

Graham heaved himself up. Blood ran from his wounds, and his Collar was shocking him, but the wolf in him gave him strength. He felt himself Shifting before he realized it, into his in-between beast, a monster that was half wolf, half human. Misty, instead of running away in terror, came to Graham and steadied him on his feet.

Graham roared. He grabbed Oison’s arm as his sword came down to Reid and ripped the blade away. As Oison spun to face him, Graham took the blade in both hands and broke it over his huge knee.

There was a flash, a sound like a broken bell, and the pieces of the sword fell, tarnished and jagged, to the ground.

Oison opened his mouth and cried something in Fae, but he only got a few words out before Graham grabbed him by the neck again.

As Graham had done in his dream, he ripped his claws into Oison’s throat, no chain mail now to stop him. Hot blood poured out over Graham’s hands. Oison locked his fingers around Graham’s wrists, gasping for breath. The Fae gulped air and started chanting again, another spell, Graham knew.

Graham felt himself weakening, shifting back to human, whatever magic it was taking hold, but he refused to let go.

“Graham!” Misty, his mate, screamed. “Get out of the way!”

Graham saw her, and his eyes widened. He spun Oison around so his back would be to Misty, then Graham hit the ground as Misty, who’d grabbed Xavier’s gun, unloaded every bullet in it into the Fae.

Oison faltered, but he kicked away from Graham and ran for the opening to the cave. Bullets were lead, not iron, so while they’d slow him down, he could escape to Faerie and live.

Graham wouldn’t let him. He was on Oison in two strides, changing to wolf, bringing the Fae down flat on his back. He closed his mouth over Oison’s throat, biting down. Graham tasted blood, and saw the life leave Oison’s eyes.

Oison’s head lolled, blood coming from his mouth, then all at once, he looked straight up at Graham.

“It’s only the beginning,” he said clearly, then he died. His body crumpled, dissolving into dust.

Graham shifted slowly, painfully back to human. Misty dropped to her knees next to him, the gun falling from her hands.

“Graham . . .”

“It’s all right, Misty,” Graham said, barely able to form the words. “I got the son of a bitch.”

He collapsed into her arms, spent, but there was no place he’d rather be. The hot summer wind swept down from the ridge and carried the dust of Oison’s dead body into the vast open plain of the desert.

 • • •

"Dougal first,” Graham said.

The DX Security van they lay in rocked and swayed over the rutted roads back to Shiftertown.

“Graham, you have three sword holes in you,” Misty snapped. “And a reopened gunshot wound.” She clung to his hand, her heart slamming in her chest, not liking that Graham’s grip was so weak.

“And Dougal got stabbed, plus he’s got Collar fatigue.” Graham’s voice might not be up to his usual volume, but he’d held on to his strength of will.

“I’m better,” Dougal said. He sat up beside Graham, leaning against the van wall. “What hurt was the magic. Now that Oison’s gone, so is the spell.”

“No kidding.” Graham had his other hand around a bottle of water. He’d insisted on drinking, so happy to be able to again, though Andrea had joked it would all come out the holes if he didn’t quit.