Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            Al’s annoyed grunt sounded loud beside me. “Mother pus bucket, Morgan,” he said, his red, goat-slitted eyes inches from mine. “It is a wonder you have survived this long.”

            “Jenks keeps me alive,” I said, jerking at a thunderous boom. And Jenks isn’t here.

            I spun where I lay, pushing my braid out of the way to see the parking lot. A car was on fire, struck by whatever spell Walter’s magic user had thrown at us. Annoyed, clearly vampiric agents stood at a disgruntled distance while two of the magic-wielding witch agents jogged back to try to contain the fire with a spell.

            So much for a park-wide circle. “Stay down,” I said as I rose, breaking my bubble of protection as I pushed up through it. The energy from it poured in to fill my chi with a tingling confidence and send the stray strands of my hair frizzing. I looked over the chaos. Something had changed. Most of the Weres were fleeing, but I didn’t think it was from that blast of magic.

            “It’s David,” I whispered as I saw his little gray sports car at the park’s far edge. Both car doors were open, and the flashing amber and blue lights played upon the good-size wolf in his prime standing on its roof. Walter had seen him as well, the militant Were barking for obedience as most of his alpha pack disintegrated.

            They were fleeing the power of David’s focus, and a shiver rolled down my spine when David lifted his muzzle, a confident howl rising high to silence the chaos as he called the packs of Cincinnati.

            But it wasn’t over, and my hands tingled with unspent power as the Weres who were left tightened into a defensive knot. That disguised magic user was in the center, arguing with Walter again, by the looks of it.

            “Ahh.” Al rested confidently against the foot of the bridge. “I do love a well-crafted curse. Thousands of years old, and the focus is as effective now as when Newt twisted it.”

            “Yeah, it’s great,” I said, my worry tightening even more as the I.S. began a slow, obvious retreat, content to let David settle this. The packs of Cincinnati were beginning to answer him. Cars had stopped in the middle of the street and people were jogging his way, stripping as they came. Tough and sinewy, most were rough around the edges with marvelously creative tattoos and scruffy faces, but they were crafty and intelligent, and instinctively knew how to work in a team. There were few I would trust more with my life or a task.

            Walter, though, was clearly not backing down as he marshaled those left. A human couldn’t best a one-hundred-and-eighty-pound wolf, but I wasn’t a human. I was a witch-born demon, and I wasn’t going to let David stand alone—magic user or not.

            “You going to be okay here?” I said, and Al eyed me over his blue-tinted glasses. I felt my face flame. The ley line was within spitting distance. All he had to do was go stand in it.

            “Right,” I said, then broke into a run, the need to warn David rising high. “Where the devil is Bis?” I mused again as I nodded to the lead witch I.S. agent in passing and got a frown in return. “Bis!” I shouted, my pace slowing as two Weres in fur split from the main pack. They weren’t fleeing. They were loping toward me. Unsure, I angled my path wider, annoyed when the Weres not only matched it but broke into a full-out run.

            “Son of a pup,” I muttered as memories of my last, disastrous alpha challenge swamped me. I skidded to a halt, slipping on the dew-wet grass as I pulled on the ley line. Crap on toast, they’re almost on me! Power flowed, and I flung out a hand at the incoming Weres.

            “Rhombus!” I shouted, my sharp word giving force to the molecule-thin barrier as it sprang into existence. As with all undrawn circles, I was at its center, and with a startled yip, both wolves ran into it, scrunching up comically as they came to a sudden and certain halt.

            I dropped my circle, getting three steps closer to David before they regained their feet. Parker? I thought, remembering the woman stripping down. Behind her, the knot of angry Weres was growing. Lines had been drawn, and both sides were promising violence.

            “Perhaps something more aggressive?” Al shouted from the bridge’s footing.

            I wasn’t going to kid myself that Al was “allowing” me to handle this to show him my growing skills. He couldn’t tap a ley line to do magic, and it was my fault.

            “You are in my way,” I muttered, my feet shifting to find my balance as the larger wolf with the tattered ear lifted her lip in a clear warning. Parker. Behind Parker, the second Were got to her feet, one paw held high as she limped forward. More aggressive, eh? Easy for Al to say. The I.S. wasn’t looking for an excuse to bring him in, and self-defense didn’t work when you were officially a demon. I had to be gentle, and Walter? Walter didn’t.