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city was lit only by the moon.
    She glanced over her shoulder and saw six men loping down the street, gaining with chilling speed. Male werewolves, Hell realized, still in human form. There were werewolves after them, and they were in the Lower, where the Cazadores carefully regulated illegal hunting. Three of them split off to the opposite side of the thoroughfare. More charged into the street, racing ahead. Werewolves were now in front of them and behind them. The few people on the street scattered, giving her, Jaden and the dogs sole possession of the sidewalk. The streets rang with slamming doors of alternate exits. There wasn’t anywhere to go but deeper into the Lower.
    Hell lost sight of the dogs in the shadows, but she could hear them. Sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts as they ran. Her throat was raw and parched, her leg muscles streaked with pain, and her boots were killing her feet. The dogs were driving them to wherever it was the others were waiting. Some dead-end where escape would be impossible. Over the pounding of her heart and the thud of Jaden’s shoes and hers, she could hear the dogs running.
    The sidewalk tilted precariously. Moonlight spilled onto the street, casting enough light so she could avoid the worst of the cracks. Jaden kept a grip on her hand, but she was slowing him down. A werewolf howled when they reached a barricaded corner. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to hide now . The dogs had driven them onto a street blocked at one end by the rubble of a brick building with an intact rear wall. At least ten werewolves waited there. To the right, the ruins of several concrete blast barriers barred escape. There wasn’t any way out but the way they’d come and there were six more dogs behind them.
    She snatched a broken two-by-four off the ground and swung it in the wolves’ direction. “I’m not going down without a fight, you furry little freaks!”
    “This way.” Jaden grabbed her around the waist and boosted her up the pile of destroyed blast barriers. She dropped her two-by-four in order to jam her fingertips into any available hole and hoist herself over the top. Below, the dogs howled in outrage. Jaden vaulted over the top while she was picking her way down the other side, slowed by a wobbling ledge of concrete and rebar. In the dark, Jaden was a shadow moving down the mound of debris. Her pink top seemed a spectacularly bad fashion choice now. At the bottom, Jaden held out his arms, and she jumped. He caught her like Baryshnikov catching the Sugar Plum Fairy. They sprinted into an empty intersection fled by a group of teenagers who left behind the lingering scent of weed.
    Wolves came over the barrier and another rhythm joined the pounding of two feet. Four paws. Another howl split the air and was answered from a distance. Jaden’s grip on her hand tightened. He came to a stop at the next corner, wrenching her down to crouch beside him in the concavity created by the bent metal grill of a long-closed shop. He reached into the garbage-filled space behind them and swept an armful of filth onto the street. Hell covered her mouth and nose against the stench. Jaden wasn’t even breathing hard. She sounded like a bellows. He slid his back partially over her, pressing her against the grill. He drew his gun, replaced the clip with another one from near his waist and screwed on a silencer.
    The question was whether all his covert special teams secret assassin training at taxpayer expense was enough to overcome half a pack of pissed off werewolves.

CHAPTER 4
    The first dog came around the corner fast. It missed the trash but shot past their niche. How Jaden could see in this shadow-shifting darkness, night-vision lenses or not, Hell had no idea. He fired and after a soft popf from the gun, the dog went down and didn’t move. She smelled blood, sharp and coppery, and pushed backward until the metal grill dug into her back. Jaden accounted for the kickback and held