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It was a terrible idea, every step of my right foot and every sucked-in cold breath sending stabbing pains through my right side. I wasn’t even through the goddamn antibiotics yet.

I kept running anyway. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and I was riding a fuckton of it.

Taavi’s pawprints turned off onto one of the ATV trails in the public woods behind the Cranes’ property, and I followed it, although now there were ATV treads in the snow along with Taavi’s prints.

I kept running.

I don’t know how long or how far, or how much my side slowed me down, but when the woods gave way and I saw the old, abandoned barn in the middle of a winter field, I knew that’s where I was going, even without the helpful tire-and-paw tracks.

I kept running.

I heard barking and yelling well before I got there, and somehow my body still had the ability to produce even more adrenaline, because I pushed myself even faster. The sound of my own breaths was louder than my feet crunching through the snow, and I wasn’t prepared—when I pushed through the side door—for the plank that connected with my back and side.

Pain slammed through me, and I was vaguely aware of the sharpness that meant something bad had happened to my right side, but instinct took over.

Because this time, my hands weren’t cuffed and nobody had drained my magic to within an inch of death.

I struck back, sweeping one leg and letting my self-defense training take over, hearing the grunt that confirmed that I connected with human flesh. As I straightened in spite of the pain, I grabbed the front of a grey-and-black camo-style parka, my other fist connecting with the side of a face covered in black knit fabric.

Somewhere else in the barn, barking turned to growling, and then a pained yelp.

I punched the man in front of me again, hard. He staggered back, trying to get away from me. My breathlessness and the pain in my side kept me from following as he fell to the ground.

“Fuck, run!” he gasped out. “Run!”

He got to his feet and was out the main door, slid open just far enough on its track to let him and a second man run through. Outside, the sound of a revving ATV engine told me they were starting a vehicle.

“Wess!” one of them yelled.

“Fuck! Wait! Don’t leave me!” A third man, limping, headed for the door, a crowbar in his hand. More barking followed, and the man let out a shriek and hobbled faster out the door.

The barking continued, but the kind that meant Taavi was alarmed or scared, not angry.

I forced myself to stagger around the side of a stall and found what he was upset about.

Elliot, human and naked except for a filthy pair of shorts that weren’t his, was hanging from a beam, a rope slung over it.

I moved. How, I don’t fucking know, but I moved.

I grabbed his legs, pushing upwards, trying to alleviate the stress on his neck, letting his airway—hopefully—open.

Taavi started barking again, and all I could think wasoh, fuck, no. I couldn’t hold Elliot up and fight off the three men again. I wanted to, but I could feel the weakness in my body from not having had enough food or sleep, plus the fact that I was pretty sure that I’d ripped open my stitches and was bleeding again.

More barking—alert barking. The kind that sayspay attention to me!Not that anyone else would know that bark.

“Shawano PD! We’re coming in!”

I forced myself not to sag with relief at the sound of Smith’s rough voice.

I tried to call out, but I didn’t have enough air.

I wasn’t facing the right direction, but I heard the door, heard yelling that I could barely focus on, but I didn’t hear shots. Or barking.

I wanted to hear barking.

Then I saw the figure of a dog back into my peripheral vision and lay down in the dirt.Taavi. He was okay.

“Stand down! The dog’s Hart’s.” Smith was barking out orders of his own, then came over, his eyes fixed on Taavi’s form. “Hey buddy, I’m going to help Hart and Elliot, okay?”