I scrambled back, gagging, as he raised his head and howled. Then his shape began to shimmer, shift, and instead of a man standing in front of me, there was a wolf with a front foot missing.

Shifting didn’t—couldn’t—replace severed limbs, even if it did hasten the healing process for them.

I raised my knife and held it at his eye level. “This is silver. Unless you want to die of blood poisoning, I suggest you—”

I never finished, because the bastard turned and ran. A second later I realized why. Cynwrig appeared from behind the bins, his big body airborne as he launched after the fleeing wolf.

He hit the shifter hard, and the two of them rolled across the cobblestones, growls, curses, and snapping teeth filling the air. I scrambled upright and ran over, but before I could touch the shifter, he stopped moving.

Cynwrig grunted and, as the unconscious wolf’s form shimmered back to human, pushed him off and rose. There was a cut along his right cheek, but otherwise, he seemed unhurt. His gaze skimmed me, then he reached out and lightly brushed his fingers down my cheek. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s not my blood.” I scraped my coat sleeve across my face and tried not to think about the stickiness that remained behind.

“The blood on your hands is.”

“I scraped them when he knocked me over. Nothing to worry about.” Even if they did hurt like a bitch now that the adrenalin rush was easing. “Sorry about my damn phone going off at the wrong moment. I should have thought to turn the damn thing down.”

“Next time.”

“Don’t know about you, but I’m seriously hoping there isn’t a next time.” I glanced around but couldn’t see the two men he’d tackled. “What did you do with the others?”

“Threw them in the first bin and fused the latch. They’ll keep until the IIT arrive.”

While most Myrkálfar could manipulate the earth and the metals that came from it to some degree, they usually concentrated on one particular element to ensure precision. But from the little Cynwrig had said about his family, they could easily and accurately manipulate pretty much all the earth’s elements.

I lightly toed the shifter at our feet. “This one won’t—he’s a shifter, so he’s going to need medical help to combat silver poisoning pretty damn quickly.”

“Then I’ll call the IIT, you call the medics.”

I nodded and did so. Cynwrig then picked up the shifter, dumped him in the second metal bin, and fused this latch down as well—though I did have to wonder for how long it would remain attached if shifter got serious about escaping.

After I’d picked up the knife sheaths, we walked over to the person I’d frozen in place. I was rather surprised to discover it was a woman. The multiple layers of clothing on top of her thickset form did a good job of concealing the fact from a cursory glance.

I briefly gripped her hand again and said, “You will now answer all our questions openly and honestly. Understood?”