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“Brody. Throw me—there,” I pointed to the mantasp that was now almost crouched over Clarence. (With his werewolf strength Brody could toss me like I was a dog toy.)

Brody, however, was unprepared for this idea, so he actually drew back from me as he dumped Grove on the sidewalk. “W-what?”

I pointed again. “Clarence—you can throw me faster than we can run.”

“B-but—”

My usual worries about communicating well evaporated under the threat of danger. “Brody. Throw me!”

Brody knit his fingers together to form a stirrup with his hands, which I put my right foot in and then crouched.

Brody drew a breath, then flung me using every ounce of his werewolf strength.

The wind whistled in my ears and the putrid smell drifting off the dead mantasp made my eyes water, but I unsheathed a dagger mid-air.

Brody’s aim was excellent, and I landed on the mantasp’s back—heels first. I hit it with enough force to make it crumple, smacking the ground, and Clarence scooted out of the way just in time to barely avoid getting crushed.

I rolled off the mantasp, being careful to keep the edge of my dagger pointed away from me.

I don’t have any room for mistakes. I can’t risk cutting myself when I’ll be so close to Clarence.

The mantasp made angry clicking noises as it struggled to stand. It reached for me with one of its claw-tipped front legs, but I was already sliding toward its back end reaching underneath it to stab my dagger into its abdomen, piercing its softer underside and mortally wounding it.

The mantasp shuddered in pain and scrabbled to try and stand. It nearly stabbed Clarence, so I grabbed the vampire by the white cravat he always wore tucked into the neckline of his dark blue uniform, and yanked him to his feet, dragging him a safe distance away.

The mantasp collapsed while we fled, its legs twitching as it slowly died.

“T-thank you,” Clarence gasped, his face paler than usual.

I patted him on the shoulder, which made him cringe. (He was a vampire, I was a slayer, I got it.)

I respectfully took a step away to give him some stress-free breathing room, then surveyed the battle.

Brody was helping April over by her lamppost. He was distracting a mantasp while luring it under April’s perch, giving her a clear shot with her lighting. It looked like they’d already finished off a mantasp that way—the larger one of the two that had originally targeted April was collapsed in a smoldering heap.

Grove had joined Binx—who was still smacking her mantasp with her cleaved stop sign. He watched for a moment as he flipped his leather messenger bag open and pulled out one of his bottles. I couldn’t tell whether it was a healing potion or one of his poisons, but it seemed the kind of potion didn’t matter for what Grove had in mind.

He chucked the bottle, hitting the mantasp’s triangular head. The delicate bottle shattered on impact. The monster staggered backwards, clawing at its face as the glass shards dug in and Binx smacked it again with her stop sign.

Both of those mantasps are occupied, and it’s only going to be a matter of minutes before they are down. Three of the six are already dead. That leaves one left.

I turned in a circle, looking for the mantasp that had been investigating trash cans unhindered.

It was wandering away from the fight, heading straight for the congestion of cars stuck at the stoplights.

“Pursuing the runner!” I shouted to my squadmates before I sprinted after the mantasp.

The mantasp must have heard me—a disappointing reflection on my skills of running quietly—or sensed me, because it kicked up its pace from an ambling walk to a scuttling run.

I gritted my teeth as I kicked up my pace and considered my options.

Humans were milling around, so I was reluctant to use my handgun, but I needed to take the mantasp out as fast as possible without risking an injury. (I still had Clarence to think of.)

I caught up with the monster—running down the middle of the road—and yanked a pair of my magic canceling cuffs off my belt.

Using my presence as pressure, I herded it towards the sidewalk. When it tried to kick at me, I stabbed it in the leg with my dagger.

It shot towards the sidewalk, conveniently ramming into a pole that held up a crosswalk sign.