Page 98 of The Wolfing Hour

“And what did she do that was so bad?” he asked.

Rip out their eyeballs and boil their brains. “Killed Floyd’s wolves.” I shuddered. “I killed them in a terrible, terrible way.”

“Good.”

I blinked up at him.

“I hope they suffered. I hope they’re still suffering.” His jaw clenched, and a vein pulsed in his temple. “Don’t youdarefeel bad—not for one single death. The things those monsters did for Floyd were unspeakable. You only have to look at Hartman to see what they were capable of.”

“Mason?”

I hobbled to the last cell on chewed feet that barely held my weight and entered through the unlocked door.

Mason Hartman was pinned to the wall, head hanging, chin to upper sternum. Silver chains crisscrossed his chest, wrapped around his throat and wrists and ankles. Molten silver dripped from his shoulders, down his naked body, to the floor. His feet rested in a shallow pool of it.

I freed him, and he collapsed … then pushed painfully to his feet.

“Tried to stop him. Tried to,” His breath stuttered, “save them.” His gaze raked over my face, eyes widening. “If you’re looking for Hell, demon, it’s in the next cell over.”

I looked.

Mason was right. Everything in there was dead.

Chapter

Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

“It keeps getting worse. I tried to save Rory and accidentally saved stupid Mason instead. Plus, Floyd got away.”

“Accidentally saved? I bet Hartman doesn’t see it like that.” He stroked the inner wrist of my non-ravaged right hand with his thumb. “And Floyd getting away might’ve been the best-case scenario. He’s fast and brutal. The wolves you took out couldn’t beat him in an arm-wrestling contest.”

“I killed all eight.”

“And I’m glad you didn’t face Floyd along with them.”

He was probably right. Besides, if I’d killed the alpha leader instead of Ronan, it would’ve created a whole bunch of problems. This had to be done the right way. A pack challenge between the two wolves.

“If you hadn’t pulled Hartman out of there, he’d be dead by now.” His smile was less fragile than before. “Which must really gall him. I can hardly wait for him to wake up so I can throw it in his face.”

“Where is he?”

“Gladys’s. Ida called Margaux and Bronwyn to come work on him. I helped with some of the external silver, but I couldn’t help much with the stuff lodged inside his body. The witches are having better luck.”

“How did we get here?”

“You don’t remember?”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember much at all. The killing. Finding Mason.”

“Because of your demon side?”

“Yeah,” I said.

His thumb moved from my wrist to my palm. My brain was a raging storm of regret and grief, and his touch sent calming waves through me. “From what he said before he lost consciousness, you threw him over your shoulder and carried him to the Mini where you stuffed him in the back seat. You drove home, leaving him in the parking lot with the car.”

“There’s no way I could’ve done that. He weighs a ton, and I’m beat up.”