Dougie.

His face was a puffy bruise, his lips split, his right eye swollen shut. His hair was caked with blood. His jeans were shredded, and bloody flesh gaped through the holes. They had dragged him, scrapping his knees raw. The chain was wrapped around his narrow waist, and it had worn the skin way from his ribs and stomach. He hadn’t fallen the way a person would normally fall. He had collapsed like a rag doll, boneless and making no effort to catch himself.

The world turned red in a single furious second. They’d beaten a child. They’d broken his bones. They put him on a chain. They dragged him across the city. The rage burned in me like a firestorm.

The handler yanked the chain, lifting the child three feet off the ground. “This her?”

No answer.

The asshole shook the chain. The boy dangled like a broken doll.

I would kill him slowly.

“Is this her?”

Dougie opened one eye to a mere slit. His voice was little more than a whisper. “No.”

The handler dropped him and looked at the giant. “It’s her.”

If I showed the slightest interest or concern, they’d torture him to get me to behave. I had to shift their priorities.

“Wow, the hills really do have eyes,” I called out. “And greasy hair.”

The giant peered at me. “You look like a good breeder.”

“You look like your parents met at a family reunion.”

His sidekick with the rifle frowned.

“Keep thinking. It will come to you.”

The handler bared yellowed teeth at me. “Mouthy bitch.”

My middle name. “Did you finally get it? Don’t be ashamed. It’s hard to be the son of Sasquatch.”

Dougie crumpled, forgotten on the ground. That’s right, focus on me.

“Get off the horse and lie down on the ground,” the asshole with the gun ordered.

I needed to get them away from the boy. I raised my arm and pointed at the gunman.

“What’s that? You gonna shoot me with your finger, you dumb bitch? Get off the horse and lie down on the ground. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

I got off Tulip and tapped her with my hand. She trotted off to the side, out of the way. The three men watched me. Dougie lay still.

I whistled once, a short, harsh note, and dropped to the ground.

Turgan dropped from the sky like a stone, raking the gunman’s face with his talons. The man shrieked. A shot rang out. I jumped up, dashed left, behind the Regions building, and whistled again. The eagle streaked across the sky, soaring clear. The whole thing took less than two seconds.

I pulled Dakkan out and screwed the spear together. The building blocked the street. I couldn’t see them, but they couldn’t see me either.

The gunman was still screaming.

“Shut up,” the giant snarled, his voice cold and vicious.

“It took my fucking eye!”

A wet thud announced a punch landing. “Shut up or I’ll crush your head.”

The screams died. I moved east, circling the building, moving silently along the wall.

“Larry, loose the fucking dog on her.”

The chain clanked on the ground.

I waited.

The dog came around the corner, following my scent, his massive paws scraping the stone in a shower of sparks. Fangs flung spit into the air. The cavernous mouth opened wide…

I stabbed Dakkan into that gaping maw. The spear bit into the soft tissue inside the throat, slicing through muscle, cartilage, and bone into the brain. I jerked the spear free. The dog stumbled, his charge suddenly aborted. Blood gurgled, gushing from his mouth.

I withdrew and drove the spear into its neck, cleaving the spinal column. The hound collapsed, its needles jingling like a sack of coins spilled on the ground. One down. I turned and kept circling the building.

“Charger?” Larry called out.

I rounded the corner and pressed myself against the wall. He was out in the street, just a few feet away. Dougie curled into a ball to Larry’s right.

Hold on. I’m coming.

Twenty yards down the street, in the direction I had been coming from, the shooter stared at the ruins. He gripped his rifle with his right hand. His left pressed some cloth against his injured eye. The giant was gone.

“Charger! Get back here, boy.”

I lunged from behind the building and thrust the spear into the handler’s back. The metal blade slid into flesh, ripping the kidney and liver on its way up. Larry gasped. I twisted the spear in the wound. He moaned in an oddly high voice. It would take him a long time to bleed out, and it would hurt every moment. He would never put another child on a chain.

Larry’s body jerked on my spear. A bullet bit into his stomach. The sound of the rifle was like the popping of a firecracker. Sudden lack of depth perception was hell on aiming.

“Larry, get out of the way!” the shooter yelled.

I spun Larry to my left, using his bulk as a shield, pulled the spear free and sprinted back to the ruin. Behind me the rifle cracked again, the bullet whizzing by to ricochet off a brick wall half a foot away. I ducked around the corner and kept moving, to the spot where two rectangular columns had once framed the entrance. I hid behind the first column and waited.

The handler whimpered, fragments of incoherent words slipping out between his sobs.

“Fuck you,” the shooter muttered from my right. “Fuck you, bitch, fuck you…”

That’s right. Come closer.

“I’ll fucking find you. I’ll blow your head off.”

A boot came into view.

“I’ll shoot you in both eyes and—”

He gurgled as Dakkan’s blade slid though his neck. His remaining eye bulged, his mouth opened… He tried to say something, but blood was gushing from his throat, staining his skin bright red.

A dark shape swung off the roof and dropped on top of me. There was no time to free the spear. I dodged left, desperately trying to get clear. A boot landed on my thigh. Pain exploded all the way to the bone. The glancing blow tossed me into the air like a ragdoll. I flew, curling into a ball, straight into the soft embrace of a brick pile, and landed on my side. Ow.

The world swam. I clawed through the fog of blurry vision. The giant was stomping toward me, brandishing his club. If I had been a touch slower, he would have broken my femur. I couldn’t afford to be hit again.

I jumped to my feet. The giant bore down on me, swinging the club, eyes cold. I shied left, then right, the club whistling inches from my face. He was between me and my spear, pushing me against the brick heap. If even a single blow connected, I was dead.