I saw a slight movement through the blinds. He was standing on the front lawn in the shadows. I narrowed my eyes, and he grinned wide and laughed loudly. He could see us because of the light.

With a burst of speed, I knocked the pillows off the bed then bumped Gabby off, too. As she tumbled over the edge of the mattress, I leapt toward the bedroom door, cleared it, and switched off the light before she landed.

I flew out the front door and found the man crouched low, ready for me. Snow crunched under my bare feet as I moved toward him. His lips parted with a growl, and he moved to the side, studying me. I snarled back as I sized him up. His shoulders were narrower than mine, his fingers, thinner, but I outweighed him. I’d use that. But first, I needed to know his skill.

Moving in a blur, I rushed him and swiped at his torso with my changed nails. Material ripped, but he managed to move out of the way, just skirting the direct glow of the streetlight before he rushed at me. I twisted, turning with his attack to avoid being hit. As he passed me, I used my foot to tangle his. He growled as he fell, and I retreated a few steps toward the house, ready for his next attack.

The man snarled, and when he lifted his head, his eyes had dilated. He was losing control, on the verge of change.

“We need to take this elsewhere,” I said quietly, aware of the houses around us. How long until someone heard us?

His skull moved under his skin, reshaping, and he crouched low again as his mouth reshaped, too. He wasn’t ready to listen. I focused on allowing my mouth to change, making it easier to bite him. A good hold on his throat would send him off and end this before it got out of control.

He lunged forward, his mouth opening. I leaned back, avoiding his bite, and drove my fist into his gut.

Down the road, a few of the streetlights blinked off.

He backed away from me and sidestepped, as if trying to circle around me. Instead of following, I moved closer to the house and shadowed his step to the side. He snarled and charged me. This time, I didn’t back away.

I met him with a fist to the face and enjoyed the sound of the low thud, until he drove his fist into my ribs. Grunting, I came back with a right fist to his jaw and a left to his ribs. We moved fast, striking and dodging. I did more dodging than he did. His breathing became harsh.

Twice more he tried to feint away from the house, but I refused to follow.

He growled softly and tensed to attack again. A faint noise behind the house caught my attention. Someone was on the back porch.

I growled and grabbed the man by the back of his head. As the back door opened, I put everything I had into the next hit. My fist met his temple with a crack. I opened my hand, and he dropped. I didn’t wait to see him fall.

The front door still stood open. Rushing through it, I barreled into the next challenger who was crossing the living room.

The man ducked low and wrapped his arms around my waist, ready to drive me to the floor. I fisted my hands together, lifted them, and slammed down onto his back as we started to move. He straightened, trying to clip my jaw with the back of his head, but I jerked out of the way. Not far enough. His arms whipped around me and started to squeeze. He had more to him than the last guy, I felt it in his arms. Hands still locked, I brought them down on his face, again and again, hammering at him as he tried to crack my ribs.

From Gabby’s room, I heard movement.

He released me, and we broke apart.

Gabby gasped. He looked over my shoulder, and I knew he saw her. His expression changed to one of adoration then swiftly to calculation. I knew that look. I had the same one months ago when I first saw her and felt the pull. Angry, I fisted my hand and hit him in the temple, bringing him down as I had the one outside. He landed hard.

Behind me, Gabby moved. I turned to watch her. She remained focused on the man on the floor. She looked horrified. Yet she studied him for a long while.

“What do we do, Clay?” she said finally.

She turned toward me and shivered. The front and back doors were both open. She needed to get back in bed.

“He’s part changed. With all the noise, I think the police will be here soon. Can we leave him here like this?”

Her worry wasn’t just for keeping our race hidden. She’d felt something for the man on the floor, and it was tearing me up to think any of her worry might be for him. So, I nodded and motioned her back to the bedroom.

Sirens screamed in the distance as I tucked her into bed and closed the door.

When I returned, there was no limp form in the living room. The back door closed as I eyed the blood-free carpet. I glanced out the front window. The lawn was clear. They’d both run.

I waited in the front door as the police pulled up.

My face hurt. I had no doubt I looked like a victim as the officers in the first car opened their doors. Good thing they couldn’t see the other guys and their busted faces.

“Sir, I received a complaint that animals were fighting in your back yard...what happened to you?” the first officer asked as the second watched me.

“I need to report an attempted break in.”

Then the questions started. Did I know who had attacked me? Had I ever seen my attacker before? Could I describe him?

I knew they wouldn’t accept short answers.

“My girlfriend and I were inside when we heard a noise out here. I came out to investigate after telling her to stay inside. As soon as I was out, someone hit me from behind. We scuffled a bit. He was about my height but smaller in the shoulders. Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Nose had a bump in the bridge. His teeth were yellow. He had a friend in back. I heard his dog growling. I managed to knock the guy out on the front lawn,” I stepped further out the door to the spot in the snow, “here. Then I went running back inside.” One of the officers glanced at my bare feet.

Damn.

“I think the adrenaline rush is fading,” I said calmly. “My feet and hands are freezing. Mind if we go inside?”

The one who’d spoken waved me in. As soon as I was inside and had the door closed, I started up again, speaking softly.

“Once I knocked the one out in front, I ran back in here. Gabby’s been sick,” I waved to the door, “and I was worried when I heard something from the back. It was a good thing I came in. He was standing right here,” I moved to the center of the room. “He landed a few good punches, but I managed to knock him out, too. Gabby had gotten out of bed. We heard the sirens. I helped her back into bed, made sure she was okay, then came out to wait for you. When I came out, they were both gone.”

“We’d like to talk to your girlfriend.”

“Okay. Just knock on her door. I doubt she’s sleeping.”

Chapter 22

After the police spoke to Gabby, whose pale, frightened expression gave more credibility to my story, they took pictures of my hands, face, and the entry points.

Once they left to go bother the neighbors with questions, I closed myself in the bathroom to wash. Most of the cuts were starting to knit together. Beyond the sound of running water, I listened to Gabby move around in her bedroom.

During Gabby’s conversation with the policemen, she had told them she didn’t want to stay the night and had said we’d be staying with family during the holiday. She’d given them her cell number for the follow-up they said they would need to do.

I knew her desire to leave had little to do with her safety. She had questions. She was afraid of what had happened when she’d looked at the man on the floor. So was I. How could she feel the pull for another werewolf? Sure I knew Gabby’s scent appealed to all werewolves, but the pull was supposed to be unique, something only one werewolf could experience when he saw his Mate for the first time. And I wasn’t mistaken. She’d felt the pull for me and for the man I’d knocked to the floor. What did it mean?