Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Rachel . . .” David whispered, seeming to be torn as he bowed his head.

            “Excuse me,” Cassie said, her color high. “I’m the female alpha of this pack. And I’m not abdicatin’ anything. If anyone is challengin’ that whacked-out bitch, it’s going to be me.”

            “You’re a werefox. A third her size,” I said.

            “And you aren’t even a Were!” she said loudly.

            “Well, at least I can turn into a wolf!” I shouted, and Jenks rose up on a column of red sparkles, the pixy clearly uncomfortable.

            Cassie stepped forward, and my chin lifted as we stood toe-to-toe. “Back off,” she whispered, our breath mingling. “This is my ground, my pack, and my responsibility.”

            “You see?” David gestured helplessly. “You see why I came alone? They told me to come alone.”

            “So they could take the focus and kill you,” I said, and Cassie spun to the bridge, clearly done talking.

            “I’m calling you out, Parker!” she shouted, and the bullhorn and mob noise abruptly dulled. “You tried to lure my alpha away, and I’m calling you out!”

            “You?” Parker gripped the bridge railing. She probably thought the bridge gave her the high ground, but it only made her look vulnerable. “You’re not even a werewolf.”

            But Parker was staring at David, and I felt a chill. She wanted him dead and the focus, deep in his bones, in her hands. She knew the chakra ring did not give her power. It was witch magic. It counted for nothing in the eyes of the pack.

            “I am the female alpha of the Black Dandelions,” Cassie said, and the crowd tightened behind us. “And I’m calling you out, Parker. Join me in challenge or be diminished.”

            “Cassie?” I touched her elbow, and the startled woman almost backhanded me. “This is not going to be a fair fight. Let me do it. Grant me temporary alpha status. I can Were into a wolf. A fox can’t take down a wolf.”

            Cassie was fixed on Parker with an eerie intensity. “With all due respect, Rachel, you can go to hell.” Lips pressed, she wedged her shoes off and handed them to me. “I’d appreciate it if you would be my second, though.”

            Frustrated, I weighed the chance of ruining a potential friendship and having her alive against downing her with a spell and saving her life. Parker was a savage—this was my task to do.

            Or is it? I thought suddenly as I caught sight of Jenks hovering behind Cassie, a sorrowful, angry expression on his small features. I’d learned the hard way that small did not mean helpless, and I felt my anger twist to fear as I held Cassie’s size five shoes in my hand, still warm from her body. “This is not what I had planned,” I whispered, and then, louder, “but I would be honored.” If Parker cheated, I could legally step in.

            Shock flashed across Cassie’s face, followed by gratitude, and then a renewed anger as she turned to the bridge. Though she had always been confident, it now flowed from her. My belief had given her strength. God, please let this not be a mistake. . . .

            David groaned, and I handed him Cassie’s shoes. Behind Parker stood a veritable bear of a woman—Parker’s second. David raised his hands to the crowd. “All of you go home!” he shouted, but no one moved, and a laugh tittered through them.

            Mrs. Sarong shook her head. “And let Parker claim the Weres of Cincinnati?” she said, her faint Japanese accent making her even more exotic. “That’s not happening, Mr. Hue. Let your alpha settle this, or we will.”

            “I call you out, Parker,” Cassie said again, looking strong with Jenks hovering beside her on the circular patio where the covens of Cincinnati had their solstice bonfires. “Before all the packs of Cincinnati, I call you. Meet me now or forfeit your place. Such as it is.”

            Parker stepped off the bridge. “I’m not the one hiding behind two bitches,” she said, and Jenks’s wings rasped in threat.

            Cassie bristled as the watching packs murmured. “This doesn’t concern David,” she said. “It’s you and me. If I win, I get the chakra ring and the identity of the mage. You can keep your foul pack. I don’t want it.”

            Parker glanced at the ring on her finger, then me. Smirking, I waggled my fingers at her to make the light glint on its older sister. “And if I win?” Parker sauntered forward until her toes edged the paved circle. “I get the focus. I want Morgan to rip it from him herself and put it in me.”