“That Gift I spoke of earlier? I had to use most of it on myself to be able to achieve this form, but it is worth it.”

“You always were greedy.”

Kurst laughed. “We are the third of the host, Franks. Greed is our way. Have you pretended to be human for so long that you’ve forgotten that? You disgust me, brother. You were the fiercest amongst us, but now you are His dog, groveling beneath the table for whatever scraps the mortals will give you.”

“You talk too much.” Franks reached down, grabbed the broken halberd, and wrenched the ax blade from Cratos’ skull. “Let’s go.”

* * *

If Heather had known that she wouldn’t be able to fully transform into a werewolf yet, and also that the Nemesis soldier she was supposed to fight was going to suddenly grow spines like a damned puffer fish, she would’ve told Stricken to shove that PUFF exemption up his ass.

She was swatted to the ground again, but rolled out of the way before the monster could stab her. Heather sprang to her feet, and with no better option, slugged the monster in her twisted face. Even in human form a werewolf was still extremely strong. The thing’s face was harder than it looked, but spongy beneath. Something gave beneath her fist.

“Ah! Gross!” Heather wiped her knuckles on her shirt as she backpedaled.

The impact had caused the monster’s face to split open, like cracking a crab shell, and ropey tendrils of meat were hanging out. The red mass was slurped back into its head. “Is that the best you’ve got?” The Nemesis soldier seemed to be enjoying itself.

Ducking, Heather barely managed to avoid having her head torn off. The monster was terrifying, like a bunch of children’s nightmares all smashed together in one bucket, but that disfigured body was clumsy, and probably slower than it should have been. That was keeping Heather alive, but without claws and teeth, she’d not been able to hurt the thing. All she could do was buy some time.

Stricken had used Heather’s distraction to climb out of the hole and get to the door. He punched in a code, but nothing happened. Stricken immediately tried again, but his only reward was a red flashing light.

“You forgot the code!” Heather cried out as she narrowly kept from being eviscerated. “Idiot!”

But Stricken didn’t respond. He tried the code again. The red flashing continued, but now it was joined by a warning buzzer. Renfroe crawled out of the hatch, saw what Stricken was doing, and shouted, “Stop! One more and the system will lock us out.”

Stricken stepped away from the keypad. Heather had never seen him appear emotional and out of control before. “The numbers he gave me don’t work! Fix it!”

Bubble gum and spider webs . . .