“What do you mean, ‘Uh-oh’?”

He glanced at me. “Run!” And then he turned and sprinted down the length of the bridge, leading his horse by the reins.

It’s never a good thing when the black volhv says “Uh-oh” and then runs for his life. I dashed after him, ignoring the black specks fluttering before my eyes and the pain returning to my muscles.

We ran past our attackers. A moment later, they saw the writing on the wall and followed us. We pounded down the bridge. Behind me something roared. I didn’t look back.

The air turned to fire in my lungs. My stomach lurched. Nausea came, followed by vertigo.

We cleared the bridge. Roman dropped to one knee, breathing like there was an anvil on his chest. I turned around.

A thirty-foot tower of snakes rose behind us. It swayed, rocking back and forth, dripping wriggling snake bodies, and exploded. Reptiles rained onto the ruins, revealing a single creature. Its long serpentine body was coiled into a tight spring. Brilliant gold and amber feathers flanked its triangular snake head. I had seen winged snakes before. They were tiny. Three feet was considered to be a large specimen.

The serpent raised its fanged maw to the skies. Scarlet wings snapped open along its chest. It sprung up, uncoiling its ten-foot-long body, and took to the sky.

“Well, that’s not good,” a woman said behind me.

“Did Martinez turn into this, or did they eat him?” a man asked.

“How am I supposed to know? He was the priest.”

I spun around. The nine of us looked at each other. Roman pushed off the ground.

No arrows, I felt half-dead, and my volhv was all used up. There was only one thing I could do.

A large, blond woman jerked her sword up and charged me. I met her halfway, changing shape as I moved. My claws sliced into her stomach, cutting through the fragile muscle. Her slippery entrails slid against my fingers. I grasped a handful of intestines, ripped the sodden mass out, and flung it at the rest of her crew. A blood-curdling hyena cackle broke free from my fanged, black-lipped mouth. I charged.

A man stepped in my way. His blade cut my side, but I didn’t care. I gripped his right arm, wrenched it out of the socket, and tore it off.

The mist of blood lingered in the area like an exotic, entrancing perfume. I danced through it, drunk, but crystal clear, maiming, killing, carving the pliant flesh into hot, juicy morsels. They fell before me and I loved it. Rage sang through my veins, fuel to my internal inferno. Inside me a distant small voice squeaked a warning—I was using up the last of my fragile reserves—but it felt so good and I didn’t want to stop.

Another man stepped in front of me. I backhanded him out of the way. He flew and fell. Fun! I chased him and pinned him to the ground. My teeth snapped a hair from his throat. Hello, prey!