His leg buckled and he stopped, his irate look clear in the light from the streetlamp. He couldn’t turn misty to avoid the strikes since I would be able to slip his grip. “What a canicula you are,” he said, taking both ankles with one hand and continuing.

“I don’t want to go!” I shouted, grabbing onto the edges of the gate as we passed through it. We jerked to a stop, and Al sighed.

“Let go of the fence,” he said, sounding tired.

“No!” My muscles started to shake as I fought to keep unmoving while Al pulled. I had only one ley line charm imprinted on my subconscious, but trapping Al and me in a circle would get me nowhere. He could break it as easily as I, now that his aura would be tainting it.

A cry slipped from me when Al gave up trying to drag me through the gate and he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. My breath exploded out of me as his muscle-hard shoulder cut into my middle. He stank of burnt amber, and I fought to get free.

“This would be a lot easier,” he said as I jabbed my elbows between his shoulder blades to no effect, “if you would accept that I have you. Just say you’ll come willingly, and I can pop us into a line from here and it will save you a lot of embarrassment.”

“I’m not worried about embarrassment!” I stretched to reach a passing limb of a tree, my breath coming out in relief as I snagged one. Al jerked back, pulled off balance.

“Oh, look,” he said as he yanked me free and my palms came away scraped and bleeding. “Your wolfie friend wants to play.”

David, I thought, twisting to see past Al’s shoulder. As I struggled to breathe, I saw a huge shadow standing at the center of the lamp-lit, snow-packed street. My mouth dropped. He had Wered. He had Wered in less than three minutes. God, that must have hurt.

And he was huge, having retained his entire human mass. His head would come to my shoulder, I’d guess. Black silky fur, more like hair, shifted in the cold wind. His ears were flat against his head, and an impossibly low warning growl came from him. Feet the size of my spread hands dug into the snow as he barred our way. He gave an indescribably deep warning bark, and Al chuckled. Lights were coming on in adjacent houses and curtains were being peeked around. “She’s legally mine,” Al said lightly. “I’m carting her home. Don’t even try.”

Al started down the street, leaving me torn between screaming for help and admitting I was a goner. A car was coming, its lights throwing everything into stark relief. “Good, doggie,” Al muttered as we passed David with a good ten feet between us. Looking harsh in the light from the headlamps, David bowed his head, and I wondered if he had given up, knowing he could do nothing. But then his head came up and he started after us.