They were both slipping across the tile. There was blood everywhere. Franks had to overwhelm the werewolf before he could fully regenerate from his wounds, but Harbinger, even in his bestial state, was too clever to be pinned down. He ran for the door. Franks raised the cleaver to throw it, but Harbinger yanked open the refrigerator door, and the thick steel blade stuck into the stainless steel with a clunk.

His opponent had fled. Franks yanked the meat cleaver out, kicked the refrigerator closed, and followed the blood trail. Harbinger was moving. In a battle of attrition, time benefited the werewolf. Franks left his own red trail behind him. Harbinger had gnawed his left wrist down to the bone. Franks curled that hand into a fist and squeezed, estimating that he’d lost at least half his muscle control there, but he was still combat effective. His damaged vision was going to be a bigger problem.

Harbinger had gone up the stairs. Franks leapt up them in three bounds.

The werewolf intercepted him at the top, attacking from his now blind side. Harbinger came in, clawing and snapping. The two of them crashed through a doorway, through a wall, and into a bathroom. He managed to hit Harbinger with the meat cleaver, embedding it in his collarbone, but Harbinger sliced his chest open from one side to the other.

This was really starting to piss him off.

Franks slugged Harbinger in the chest, hard enough to stop a car. It knocked the werewolf clean through the shower stall, through the tile, and the wall behind it. However, it snapped Franks’ damaged wrist, and now that hand was hanging limp and useless. He followed, stepping through the broken tile and squirting pipes, smashing a bigger hole through the wall so he’d fit.

They were in an office filled with paintings. The dossier said Shackleford was an artist. Since blood was spattering across all the canvases, she was probably going to be very upset afterwards. Oh well. Harbinger was already up, so Franks simply kicked him through the next wall too.

The Elixir of Life had magnified his strength to absurd levels, so Harbinger’s body actually covered quite a bit of distance to embed itself in the far wall of another office. Franks picked up a filing cabinet and lifted it overhead. It felt very full. Franks tossed it at Harbinger, but the werewolf dodged aside and the cabinet exploded through the wall. Harbinger hurried and ducked through the hole.

“Slippery bastard,” Franks said as he followed, crashing through the hole.

Their new doorway opened onto a balcony overlooking a very large space. It appeared to be a ballroom with mirrored walls. Franks stepped through, but the instant his foot hit the other side, jaws like iron clamped around his leg, and Harbinger bit deep. Teeth sliced through muscle and blood vessels.