One of the passengers had discarded a big laptop bag on his seat, so Franks picked it up by the strap and swung it like a flail. He hit the werewolf in the snout with it. He would have done it again, but the cheap nylon strap broke and deprived him of his weapon. Jaws snapping, she flung herself at him, but Franks caught her by the wrist and spun her against the side of the car. The window broke, but she hooked her toe claws around a pole, and wouldn’t budge when he tried to shove her out. She came around fast and slashed him across the chest. His blood painted the wall. Franks tripped over a fat man and landed on the seat. The red werewolf was on top of him in an instant.

Teeth snapped closed an inch from his throat. The fat man was trapped beneath him and screaming in Franks’ ear. It was very bothersome. Franks slugged Kerkonen in the nose. The werewolf yelped, and he used the opportunity to hurl her against the roof of the subway car. She crashed to the floor, then scurried back, as if nervous her landing might have injured any of the humans cowering there.

Her humanity makes her hesitant. She could not commit fully without endangering the innocent. If she wasn’t so constrained, she might have had a chance.

“You’re soft.”

He rolled off the fat man, and went after the werewolf. He punched her in the elongated jaw. It snapped her head to the side. Franks followed up by slamming his fists into her hairy body, over and over, each shot driving her toward the open back door. She latched onto him, sinking her claws into his shoulder, but that just kept her in place while Franks beat her internal organs into jelly. Franks kept pounding her, left, right, left, right, until his fists ached, his knuckles bled, his joints popped, and his superhardened bones threatened to break.

The werewolf collapsed to her knees, blood dripping out of her mouth. She’d regenerate in a moment, but for now she was too broken to continue. She looked up at him, and he saw eyes that still held a remarkable amount of human intellect inside.

“Nemesis . . . Look it up.”

And then Franks kicked her out the back of the moving subway train.

He watched the werewolf bounce and roll down the tracks, and then she was swallowed by the dark. He turned back. The passengers were watching him, terrified of the blood-soaked giant who had just mercilessly beaten the snot out of what they probably thought was a wild animal. His shirt was missing, revealing a muscled torso covered in dozens of weeping, open wounds. He pointed at the fat man, who was now blubbering like a baby. “What size is your coat?”

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8