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Chapter 21: Jason

Since becoming the Blue Wolf, I'd only been knocked out once, in an event that had involved a thermal bomb and a crumbling temple. My fur and skin had burned off, and my flesh had been melted until it had looked like candle wax, to the point I had to be drugged for my healing to kick in.

The second time hadn't been as bad as that, but I still felt like shit.

As I struggled to my feet, shaking my head, I realized I didn't have any wounds. Still felt like someone had tried to pull me apart, like a cruel kid with a fly.

Ugh...

My uniform was in tatters, a few rags hanging loosely on my body, the armor plates cracked like eggs. But that wasn't the worst part-my gun had been torn apart, too, by whatever that dark wave had been.

Damn it. Down to thrown things and foul language, then. Unless I ran into something dumb enough to try and trade blows.

I looked around the ravaged room. The first floor of the Pit was empty; all the patrons had left, as had the performers who pretended to be in pain for their amusement.

Wonder how they got out of the iron maidens and bindings so fast, though. Experience?

A strange sound, like flesh dragging on concrete, drew my eyes downwards, and I almost winced at the state Dead Boy was in. I'd seen worse, both back home and here-especially here-but this reminded me of our meeting.

When I'd arrived in the Nightside, it had been in a bar. During a barfight, specifically, which Dead Boy was winning. Believing me to be late backup for one of the losers-because people appear out of nowhere all the time, in the Nightside-he had punched me through the bar, then jumped on me and kept swinging.

At the moment, bewildered as I had been, I'd torn his head off, then ripped his body to pieces. Until that point, my experience with the undead-barring Olaf, my subordinate back in Legion-had not been exactly pleasant.

Still, Dead Boy hadn't minded. He'd found it hilarious, and seemed to bear me no ill will, besides his commitment to making 'in stitches' jokes whenever we met.

"Can you talk?" I asked his bisected head. One half's eye flicked up at me.

"No," it mouthed. "Can't move, either, but don't worry. My car will come to pick me up sooner or later. You go on and kick their arses."

Nodding, I ran out of the devastated club, covering tens of meters every second. The Nightguard had gathered on the streets, fighting off the dark angels that had filled the skies and guiding civilians to safety. I wouldn't leave them fight this alone.

"Captain," a growling, rasping voice drew my attention. Zuu, a Spawn of Frankenstein made during the Baron's period of combining different species, and the first volunteer to become a Sergeant in the Nightguard. He looked like a demented, bipedal chimera: bear legs, tiger torso, arms like a praying mantis, mothlike wings and an ape head-because the Baron had wanted the next smartest thing to a human.

I followed his voice into a side alley. Zuu was crouching beside a dumpster, holding a ballista like it was a crossbow. The clockwork weapon could load and aim itself, and the bolts could go straight through a warship, though Myriad didn't know where they came from. He'd just bough the thing.

I crouched next to him, eyes on the sky for any angel who looked like it had spotted us. "Where's your squad?"

"Dead," he said dispassionately, and I turned to take a better look at him. He was covered in spatters of blood, but besides a few rips and burns, his stitched body was largely intact. "This blood is not mine. I do not have any."

If we survived this, I'd have to take a look through everyone's medical files.

"What is the strategy, Captain?" He asked, hefting his crossbow and sighting an angel that was hovering above our alley, but, thankfully, not looking downwards.

"They have no apparent leader," I said quietly. "And no stated objectives save for, apparently, destroying everything they can get their hands on. Unless you've learned something...?"

Zuu shook his head. I had some ideas myself-Chris had alluded to not having always been human, and the first dark angel had targeted him, specifically-but I didn't know where Chris was now, and the dark angels seemed to have broadened their scope when it came to targets.

If they believed they could destroy this city on my watch just because they wanted to, they had another thing coming.

"Snipe any unfriendly who gets close," I ordered Zuu, then took off, into the main street, howling at the top of my lungs to draw the angels' attention to me. Some of them swooped low to try and grab me, but I held them off, tearing at them with fangs and claws. I didn't know why I could hurt them when Dead Boy's fists had sunk into an angel like it was made of tar, but it wasn't the time to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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Others gathered dark energy in their hands, forming javelins like black lightning. I dodged those I could, relying on reflex and instinct alike, and gritted my fangs when some landed. Finally, an angel dropped to the ground in front of me, pointing its sword at my heart.

"Gurgi Kabud,"  it intoned. The Blue Wolf's original name shouldn't have been known to it, or anyone in this world, yet it was. "You were never meant to prowl beyond your petty realm, nor bond to mortals. I will rectify your mistakes."

It came at me in a flash, dark hands sinking into my flesh like I was made of clay, clawed fingers ripping and throwing away chunks. I growled, in pain and fury alike, punching its head and shoulders hard enough to pulverize the road beneath it. It didn't stop.

I started clawing at it, and clamped my jaws around its neck, despite the foul taste, like burnt carrion. And still the angel kept tearing me apart.

I pulled my head back, roaring, and grabbed it in a bear hug. Snarling, I sprinted towards a row of buildings, the angel held in front of me like a shield. I smashed walls and furniture to dust as I run, and tons of wood and concrete fell, shattering on my back. I kept running.

The angel hissed, maybe frustrated at an earthly thing challenging it like this, and turned to smoke in my grasp. It floated away, then solidified a dozen meters from the collapsing building I was standing in. I leapt straight through a concrete wall, reinforced with rebar, to meet the angel before it started chasing softer targets.

The angel's sword rippled, drawing light to and into it like a black hole. Then, the angel tensed, like it was preparing to run, and I saw only darkness.

I floated in the dark for what felt like an eternity, feeling nothing, trying to think straight and failing.

"Pull yourself together,"  a booming, animalistic voice growled. "It pierced your heart, not your brain."

I opened my eyes-I hadn't realized they had been closed-and came face to face with the Blue Wolf. I hadn't seen it-truly seen it-since the ritual that had bonded us together.

"Am I...dead?" I asked it. I hoped I wasn't. An endless void, empty but for me and the Blue Wolf, wasn't exactly how I wanted to spend eternity.

"Do not mock my strength, Texan,"  it snarled. "You may be weak, but I am not. I am merely...limited, by your frail mortal coil." It tilted its head to one side, fangs bared in something like amusement. "You will lose like this, you know? Even if I heal you, you will lose, and this dung heap of a city will burn."

"Someone has to fight for the Nightside," I replied. "And I didn't see Walker or his people anywhere."

"Ah, yes. Your new master, as noble as Purdy was honest,"  the Blue Wolf sneered. "Ask him what happened to the last Walker, what they did to him in the places beneath. Ask him how his string-pullers came to power."

"The last Walker? What the hell do you mean?" I asked, and the Blue Wolf scoffed. "Whatever. I don't give a damn what you know, or think you do, right now. Help me save the Nightside."

"You've made so many foolish deals recently, human..."  the Blue Wolf grinned, extending a paw the size of a dinner plate. "Eager to meet your lost mate, are you?"

"Don't you fucking mention her," I growled, grasping its paw in a crushing grip. It howled and laughed, a disturbingly human sound, and I started coming apart.

"The Maker's puppet touched you with its blood, fool!"  The Blue Wolf crowed, prowling around me. "And you have no idea what paths its blood can open...but then, neither has it. Fools call to fools, I suppose. I could have never taken you like this before, not with the ritual being shaped to preserve humanity," it sneered.

Its grin widened at my glare. "Do not worry, Jason. We are, both of us, protectors. It is why we bonded so well. I am going to save this abomination of a city, much to my disgust...but I am not going to be as particular as you. I will save who I know deserve to be saved, not those you believe should be."

In the real world, I fell on all fours, arms lengthening and becoming forelegs. My body writhed, becoming leaner, longer, and a bristling tail rose from the base of my spine.

I closed my eyes, my mind fading away, and the Blue Wolf howled.