When he turned down the aisle where the shriek had sounded, he found her in the Banoth’s clutches. Her feet were dangling in the air while the beast held her by the shoulders, shaking her like a piggy bank. She swung her legs, trying to kick him, but the animal’s outstretched arms were too long.

“Put me down, you son of a bitch!”

As amusing as the picture was, Hugh knew the Banoth didn’t plan on playing for long. Chances were the creature had never handled a beautiful blonde in a blue dress before. Add in the wiggles she was doing to free herself, and no warm-blooded male of any species would refuse that show.

“Goddammit! If you don’t let go of me right now, I swear to God I’ll—”

“Put her down, Banoth. Your fight’s with me.” He strode into the animal’s line of vision, ready to do whatever it took to free Tess.

As the beast turned its oddly shaped head and melancholy face his way, Tess continued to squirm. The Banoth glanced from him back to her before it opened its mouth and launched a giant smelly spit wad at him. Damn, he hated those things. The only other time he’d had the pleasure of coming face to face with a Banoth was four years ago and the thick liquid had hit him in the back. It stung like hell.

Ducking out of the way, he lunged toward the beast.

The Banoth halted Hugh’s advance by decking him with a sideswipe from his horns. Hugh landed on his backside, and watched in horror as the Banoth quickly opened his mouth and revealed its fangs.

Tess screamed. No matter how hard she kicked and carried on, she was no match for the Banoth’s overwhelming strength. Hugh’s jaw tensed. He didn’t understand why the creature wanted her if he’d been sent after him, and the thought riled him into action.

Without consideration, he lunged for the Banoth’s legs and sank in his claws. A blood-curdling wail came from the animal’s open mouth and it dropped Tess. She back-peddled out of the Banoth’s reach until hitting the side of a shelf with her back.

“Get out of here!” he yelled.

“Not without you,” she hollered back.

Hugh let out a snarl. If she wouldn’t listen to him, he had no choice but to kill the Banoth. Or die trying.

With his claws digging in deeper, he flipped the Banoth onto its back. No easy task, and a move the animal didn’t care for. One abnormally long arm extended to grab Hugh by the nape of the neck. The beast pulled with enough force to lift him off the ground and rip his claws out of the animal’s legs. The Banoth rose, taking Hugh with him until it was his turn to dangle in the air. But he was taller than Tess, and swinging his legs vertical, he shoved the heels of his boots into the Banoth’s chest. The beast grunted and threw him across the room.

The Banoth followed up far too quickly for a creature its size, rushing at him before he had time to catch his breath. The beast sank a fang into his shoulder at the same time Hugh drove a claw into its torso.

The gouge was enough to get the Banoth to lift its fang, and the two of them rolled across the cold concrete floor, each grabbing for the other like professional wrestlers. They tumbled into a shelving unit, knocking down pots that crashed over their heads. The sickly scent of the Banoth—a combination of vomit and dirt—made Hugh’s nose itch. It tried to spit poison on him, but Hugh jerked out of the way. Only to roll over the slime a minute later. The sting didn’t stop him.

He clawed at the beast, taking out chunks of hair and flesh. The Banoth nicked him again with a fang, this time on the upper arm while Hugh pinned him down. When he flipped Hugh over, the creature went in for the kill, two fangs landing in the center of his chest.

It didn’t matter that he was a half shifter—any significant amount of poison would have dire effects. Mercury tipped bullets or darts would get the job done quicker, but good old-fashioned venom, if left to circulate in his blood stream long enough, would also be deadly.

Hugh lifted his arms and grabbed the Banoth by the horns, pulling as hard as he could. The beast didn’t budge. A bitter, metallic taste burned his throat as the beast’s fangs continued to puncture his skin. He needed to get the upper hand. Now.

With nowhere else to go, he dug his claws into the animal’s cheeks and drew the sharp tips down its elongated face. The Banoth withdrew its fangs and let out a cry. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the beast by the horns again, and flung the animal over his head and across the floor. The Banoth landed with a thud against a wall, bringing on a tremor the size of a small earthquake. It got up more slowly this time, looking a little dazed. He watched it amble toward him like a drunken idiot.

Hugh quickly scanned the area for Tess as he got to his feet. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He hoped like hell she’d come to her senses and left the building. Worrying about her took a toll. His mind wasn’t as sharp as it should be when she was around.

The Banoth continued its zigzag pattern toward him, so he stayed put. Come on, fella. Come and get me. Things looked to be moving in his favor when the animal wavered. Good thing too. He felt the Banoth’s poison circulating in his blood stream like a chill invading every pore. His heart thudded in his ears, his muscles twitched, his senses were off.

Not enough to miss the smell he picked up with a short ragged breath, though. Tess. She was still in the building. Still close by. Dammit.

Pushing away thoughts of her, he zeroed in on the Banoth and took steps to meet the ugly bastard halfway. Like before, they grabbed at one another and pummeled each other with fists and kicks.

Hugh detected the Banoth tiring while his own body fought for freedom, fought to end the Banoth’s life before Tess did something foolish. If he could just get his claws into the beast’s jugular, he’d be victorious, whisk the girl to safety and figure out what to do next to find Trey.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of blue appeared. It distracted him enough to give the Banoth the upper hand. The beast slammed him to the floor and pinned him beneath its tree-stump legs. Not so stupid this time, the Banoth faced away from him, giving no more opportunity for facial clawing. Then it sank its fangs into his calf.

There wasn’t much more poisoning Hugh could take. He dug his claws into the Banoth’s back, but the creature barely flinched. He lifted his hips to try and jostle the Banoth. No luck. The goddamn animal could probably hang from a tree with its fangs latched onto a branch for hours. Nothing Hugh did made it budge.

Until a large, round blade—no, not blade…potting wheel?—hit the Banoth upside the head and sent him toppling over onto his side. Hugh got to his feet, rolled the stunned creature to its back, and went for the jugular.

A minute later, the Banoth stopped moving.

“I thought I told you to get out of here,” he said, panting as he cast a glance at the pair of long, lovely legs even with his line of vision. He kneeled over the Banoth, mustering up enough strength to stand and carry on without Tess noticing he felt like shit.

“You’re welcome, asshole.”

“I had it.”

“I could tell.” She bent to his level. “Need some help getting up?”

“No,” he growled.

While she turned her attention toward the Banoth, he shifted. It took a little extra effort, and when he was upright, his legs almost gave out from under him.

“You don’t look so hot,” she said, her arms crossed, her tone light, but laced with concern. For him.

He took in her appearance and felt a tiny bit of pain lift. She looked just as good as she had in the bar. None the worse for wear. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“What about Scary Hairball?” She kicked the Banoth in the side.

“I’ll send someone to clean up.”

“Cool.” Turning on her uneven heels, she headed for the exit.