They locked eyes, and for a moment he felt safe. He struggled to say her name.
Lucy.
Pain seared his back, but he could tell the bullet hadn’t hit anything important. It couldn’t stop him.
He moved on the gangbangers as they moved toward her. He didn’t know much, but he knew he had to protect her.
He lunged, crashing into his assailants with all the force his injured body could muster. His hand swept down, long fingers sharp and strong, and he cut through one throat with magnificent ease.
He grabbed the smaller man by the face, dangled him off the floor and shook until the spine cracked and life left. Another gangbanger backed away still holding his gun, pointing it toward her.
Protect Lucy.
The urge came to bite down, bidding him to crunch through skin and bone. His teeth violently punctured the flesh like the pressurized pointed bolts of a cattle gun. And blood madness shot through him.
This human was his food. His to eat, and it was good. This food asked to be eaten. It presented itself to him; the unspoken agreement made long ago. He was predator; it was prey. It was food.
“Stop!” Her voice told him what to do. She screamed at the crowd moving toward them. He wanted to spring up, but she blocked him from lunging.
“Down, Gabe.” Lucy pointed to the floor. “Down.”
Everything went very still and very cold. She wanted him to stop feeding, to stop moving. It was in her hands now. Her command. He could rest.
The pain spiked suddenly, and he dropped to the floor, all strength gone. Terror ripped at the edge of his consciousness, but her voice protected him.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” And he believed her.
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