Master of Smoke

place where she could watch what was happening. What if Smoke got hurt and needed help?
    The trick was to find a decent vantage point that wouldn’t give Warlock an opportunity to take her prisoner.
    She scanned the landscape of blocks, standing silver and black in the moonlight. Another blinding bolt illuminated a hunk of stone the size of a two-story building with three shorter cubes arrayed around it like steps. It looked like the perfect vantage point. The only problem was that she’d need to cross half the field to get to it.
    Eva cast a quick glance over her shoulder, but she could see nothing of what was going on except flashes of light, Warlock’s red and Smoke’s gold. She broke into a run.
    Her destination was still fifty yards away when she smelled a scent she knew too well. She slid to a stop, but before she could whirl to sprint the other way, a Dire Wolf stepped around the block ahead of her. He towered like a grizzly, massive and black as pitch. “Why, hello there.” His grin flashed white with fang.
    Eva whirled, then jerked back to avoid slamming into the second Dire Wolf, who’d slipped up behind her.
    “You smell like sex,” the pale wolf said. “Want to have a little fun before we kill you?”
    Eva gave him a big grin. “Sure. Why not?” She made as if to start toward him—and called her magic. It spilled through her, yanking bone and muscle into burning streams of pain. The world grew as she sank, transforming her into a timber wolf.
    Spinning left, Eva ran, zipping behind the closest block before darting around a second stone just beyond it, then making for yet another some yards away.
    The two wolf thugs howled and thundered in pursuit. “Get her,” one yelled. “If she gets away, Warlock is going to fuck us up!”
    “It’s an island, you moron!” the other snapped back. “Where the hell is she going to go?”
    Which was a damn good point.
    Doesn’t matter. She had to give running her best shot and hope something else occurred to her before the bad guys caught up.
    At least she was doing okay with the wolf thing. Eva had been afraid she’d trip over her own paws, but it seemed her body knew how to move in this form. Yet another werewolf mystery, like where her cell phone went when she shifted.
    Don’t think, Eva, run!

    Smoke roared a wordless battle cry as he called down another lightning bolt. Raw exhilaration surged through him as black clouds boiled overhead with the forces he commanded. He hadn’t cut loose like this in years. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt.
    Lightning cracked out of the darkness, and he barely got a shield up in time to block it.
    That one wasn’t his.
    He felt the nasty electrical jolt despite the shield, a painful jangle along his nerves. The bolt would have killed him if he hadn’t blocked it in time.
    Where the hell had Warlock gotten that kind of power? He no longer had access to Smoke’s magic, so he shouldn’t be capable of calling lightning. Yet he was doing it anyway.
    It was almost as if he’d gotten his hands on another elemental. But very few had survived the Dark One invasion, and all those Smoke knew of would have been too much for Warlock to take on. Except for ...
    “Zephyr sends his regards!” Warlock called as if he’d read Smoke’s mind. He’d leaped to the top of one of the blocks as if daring Smoke to hit him. One clawed hand was wrapped around Kingslayer, the gem that tipped the great battle-axe lighting up the rocks around him with a searing red glow. “He was easy prey—just like your woman. Who’s probably dead already, assuming my Bastards haven’t taken the time to rape her.”
    Smoke stared up at him, feeling as if a stake of ice had been driven through his heart. Jerking free of the pain, he sent lightning forking down at his brazen enemy.
    Warlock laughed like a loon as he leaped clear, disappearing behind another block ten yards away. “You’re so easy, Pussycat,” he called from its shelter. “All I have to do is dump her corpse at your feet, and you’ll be too busy grieving to fight.”
    “What do you think Merlin would say of making war on women?” Smoke roared back. “I doubt he’d approve!”
    Warlock said nothing, a silence that steamed with fury. I’m not the only one with a weakness, Smoke thought.
    He just had to find a way to use it.
    As for where Eva was or whether she was safe—he didn’t dare even think about that, or he’d be no good to her. The only chance they had