Elias lunges forward, his bear claws slashing at my face, and I barely have time to think "oh shit" before I'm ducking out of the way. The claws whistle over my head, close enough that I can feel the wind of their passage ruffling my hair. The scent of his fur, musky and wild, fills my nostrils. I don't waste the opening, driving a tooth-studded fist right into his gut.

The impact jars up my arm, the sensation of armadillo plates grinding against my knuckles, against the raw teeth connected to spontaneous nerves and old joints. Elias grunts, but those damn scales absorb most of the hit. Figures. Can't make this easy on me, can he? He swings his other arm in a haymaker that probably would've taken my head clean off my shoulders if it connected.

But Derek's there, intercepting the blow with a brass-knuckled punch of his own. I didn't even realize he brought anything with him - I just assumed he was going to sit this out, but he's punched a bear paw mid-swipe. "Derek, be careful!" I hiss under my teeth, getting in close while Derek's other hand comes to bear, straining against Elias's palm.

I capitalize on the opening, launching a flurry of jabs at Elias's muzzle. My own sharp, fanged knuckles split against his teeth, blood spattering across his fur. I can see his pulse quicken, his orange blood rushing to the surface, and in an instant, his whole vascular system is on display to me, warped and twisted across his new anatomy and fizzy like soda.

Elias's head snaps back, fluorescent blood spraying from his nostrils, painting my face in a garish display. But before I can press the advantage, his alligator tail whips around, surprisingly flexible, smacking a computer monitor into me. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get me away.

"You're not the only one here, Sam!" Derek hisses back, only to get swatted by Elias's other hand, grabbed with fingers that lack the flexibility of human joints but more than make up for it in size and strength. Pinched by the back of his leather jacket and flung like a frisbee, tumbling ass-over-heels.

I throw the computer off of me, only to be met by another alligator tail smack, this time complete with a full-body… I don't know, a pirouette? Either way, I can feel the rattle, the way his scales rasp against my padding and catch on cloth, friction overcome by momentum.

I go flying, crashing into a nearby desk. The cheap particle board shatters under the impact, sending splinters of wood and bits of paper flying. The metallic tang of my own blood fills my mouth. For a second, I just lay there amidst the wreckage, trying to remember how to breathe. Everything hurts, but I can already feel my regeneration kicking in, knitting together the cuts and bruises.

I grin, full-mouth, teeth interlocking. It's been so long - months - since I've been in a real scrape. Ricochet was just an appetizer. Now I'm remembering just how good it feels.

"Son of a bitch," I mutter, half-frustration, half-satisfaction, spitting out a mouthful of blood. It splatters on the carpet, mingling with the orange stains left by Elias. I think I bit my tongue when I hit the desk, but my tongue is super tough anyway, so that's not a huge issue.

Derek's at my side in an instant, hauling me to my feet. I can see his own blood pumping beneath his skin, the adrenaline of the fight visible through scratches of wood and broken cables. "Don't die on me yet, Sam."

"It'll take more than that to put me down," I say, flashing him a red-stained grin. "Barely even felt it."

That's a lie, but he doesn't need to know that. I roll my shoulders, feeling the joints pop back into place, the ache of bruised muscle and mending bone. Elias is already recovering, shaking off the hits like they were nothing. His orange blood is starting to dry, turning a sickly, fluorescent yellow on his fur and scales.

This is gonna be a long fight. The coppery scent of blood, both mine and his, hangs heavy in the air. But I'm not backing down. Not until Elias is brought to heel, one way or another.

Derek presses the attack, throwing a series of hooks and uppercuts, targeting the few unarmored spots on Elias's body. But even with the brass knuckles, it's like punching a tractor trailer for all the good it's doing. I can see the way his knuckles are starting to bruise, the skin splitting against the metal.

"Derek, get back!" I shout, trying to shepherd him out of the fight. I know I can heal, but he can't. If Elias gets a good hit in…

But Derek's not listening. He's got that stubborn set to his jaw, the one that says he's not backing down no matter what. Elias weathers the blows, his animal resilience shrugging off the impacts like they're nothing. He lashes out with a sweeping claw strike, the bear paw whistling through the air.

Derek barely evades, the claws tearing through his jacket like it's made of tissue paper. I catch a glimpse of something metallic in his hand - is that a switchblade? Where the hell did he get that? Oh, who am I kidding, he's the kind of person that wears leather jackets. Of course he has a switchblade.

He stabs forward, aiming for Elias's side, but the blade just skates off the armadillo plates, leaving a thin scratch. Elias counters with a skull-rattling headbutt, his fox muzzle slamming into Derek's forehead.

Derek staggers back, blood streaming from a gash above his eyebrow. His vascular system is going haywire, blood pumping fast and furious. I can't let this go on.

Stolen novel; please report.

I catch my breath. I surge back into the fray, leaping onto Elias's back. My fingers scrabble for purchase on his fur, teeth popping out of my palms for extra grip. I sink my fangs into his shoulder, feeling the hot gush of blood in my mouth, scraping my tiny little shark teeth against bone and nerves.

Elias roars in pain, the sound reverberating through his body and mine. He starts thrashing and bucking, trying to dislodge me. It's like riding a mechanical bull set to "murder". I just clench my jaw tighter, my shark teeth digging deeper into his flesh.

Derek takes advantage of the distraction, hammering punches into Elias's ribs and kidneys. I can hear the impact of brass on bone, the grunts of pain and effort. But Elias is too strong, too resilient.

His alligator tail coils around my waist, the scales rubbing up against my armor. It starts to tighten, crushing my hip bones. I can feel my skeleton starting to creak. Orange stains across my mouth are mixed with spittle as something gets forced up my mouth - I think it's bile. My vision starts to go white with pain. The coppery taste of blood, both mine and Elias's, coats my tongue. I can feel my grip starting to loosen, my muscles going slack.

"Sam!" Derek shouts, his voice sounding distant and muffled. He grabs onto the tail, trying to pry it off me, but it's like trying to bend a steel beam.

I'm forcing myself. Forcing. Forcing. I have to stay awake. Sleep is the enemy. Blessed sleep is the killer. I can't give up. Not now. Not when Derek's life is on the line. I force my jaws to open wider. With a muffled roar of my own, I bite down with all my might, severing muscle and tendon, and I pull, ripping out something useful.

The tail spasms. With a mighty heave, Elias flings me across the room like I'm nothing more than a rag doll. I smash through a flimsy cubicle wall, the thin plasterboard shattering around me. For a moment, I'm airborne, suspended in a haze of dust and debris.

Then I hit the ground, hard. The impact drives the breath from my lungs, my vision swimming. I can taste blood in my mouth, feel it dripping down my face from a gash on my forehead. Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Derek cry out in pain. I force myself up, blinking away the double vision. Elias has him in a crushing grip, his bear claws digging into Derek's shoulder. I can hear bones grinding, see the agony etched on Derek's face.

I stagger forward, my legs threatening to give out under me. But I can't stop. I won't. Derek needs me.

Elias swings wildly at Derek with his free hand, bear claws gouging deep furrows in the wall behind him as Derek barely ducks out of the way. Derek retaliates with a swift kick to Elias's knee, hoping to hobble him. But Elias's bear leg absorbs the blow like it's nothing. He counters by tightening his grip on Derek's shoulder, claws sinking deeper. Derek screams, the sound raw and primal.

I charge forward, throwing all my weight behind a tooth-enhanced punch aimed at Elias's jaw. I can feel teeth pushing out of my knuckles, through my fingers, eager for blood. The blow connects with a sickening crunch, teeth shattering against bone. Elias's head snaps back, fluorescent blood spraying from his mouth. For a second, I think I've done it, that I've brought him down.

But he's still standing, still fighting. His grip on Derek loosens just a fraction, but it's enough. Derek wrenches free, his shoulder screaming in protest. He slashes at Elias with his switchblade, the small blade looking pitiful against Elias's bulk. The knife finds a gap in the armadillo plates, sinking into the flesh beneath. Elias roars, more in frustration than pain, and backhands Derek across the face.

Derek goes flying, smashing into a desk. He lies there, stunned, blood streaming from his nose. I can see his veins and arteries pulsing erratically, his heart hammering in his chest.

I don't give Elias a chance to follow up. I'm on him in an instant, my fists flying, teeth shredding. I aim for his eyes, his throat, any vulnerable spot I can find. But it's like fighting a tank. He shrugs off my blows, his animal features contorting in rage. His alligator tail lashes out, catching me in the gut and doubling me over.

I taste bile in the back of my throat, my stomach clenching. But I swallow it down, force myself to straighten up. I can feel my regeneration kicking into overdrive, trying to keep pace with the damage. My teeth are already growing, pushing out of my gums, my arms, my palms. An arsenal of fangs, ready to tear and rend.

Elias is panting now, his orange blood staining his fur and dripping onto the carpet. But he's not slowing down, not giving an inch. "Just stay down," he growls, his voice barely recognizable through his animal muzzle. "I don't want to hurt you, hero."

"Bit late for that," I spit back, wiping blood from my chin. "You lost the right to pull your punches when you threw the first one."

I can see Derek struggling to his feet behind Elias, his face a mask of pain and determination. He meets my eyes, gives me a nod. He's not out of this fight yet. Derek stumbles back to his feet, his switchblade glinting in his hand, a sharp, dangerous light in the dim, lights-out office. Red and blue flashing lights from below just barely glaze his visage, touching his feet with all the strength of a newborn mole rat. There's a determined set to his jaw, despite the pain etched across his features.

He lunges at Elias's exposed back, the blade seeking a gap in the chimera's defenses.

The knife sinks deep into Elias's shoulder, just above the armadillo plates. Orange blood wells up around the hilt, vivid against the dark fur. Elias roars in pain and fury, whirling to face this new threat.

His other arm swings in a crushing backhand, the bear claws shrieking through the air like missiles, or bullets. The blow catches Derek square in the face, his nose shattering under the impact with a sickening crunch. I can see it instantly. Every part of it getting injured all at once, the way the veins crumple and rip and shred.

Derek reels back, blood streaming down his face, his eyes glazed with shock. He crumples to the ground, the switchblade falling from his limp fingers.

I'm back on my feet in an instant, swallowing a mouthful of blood. My own injuries are forgotten, overridden by the surge of adrenaline and the need to protect my friend. My friend? My friend.

I launch myself at Elias, tackling him around the waist. My weight isn't enough to bowl him over, but I cling on like a stubborn cat, my teeth and claws scrabbling for purchase on his fur and scales.

"Elias, please!" I beg, my voice muffled against his bulk. "You don't have to do this! We can help you! Turn yourself in and we'll… figure something out!"

But he's not listening. He's too far gone, consumed by the animal instincts and the rage coursing through his Fly-altered veins. This fight is too intense for negotiation. His jaws snap at my throat, his hot breath washing over my face. "Leave me alone!" he snarls, his voice a guttural rasp. "I don't need your help! I don't need anyone! Just leave and let me do what I came here for!"

His voice is high-pitched, raspy, hissing, squeaking. It sounds wrong coming out of such a monstrous physique, almost cute.

He squeezes me tight. I can feel his claws pinching at my back, his teeth grazing my skin. But I don't let go. I can't.