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Frozen dirt packed into the ground by the churning of tractor wheels. The tips of dead grass frosted by a late snow. The stench of diesel fuel and the herd of pigs in the truck on the breeze. Pinpricks of light dimmed in the distance the farther I slipped over the flat horizon.

Under the black skies with stars straining against the town’s glare a mile back, it was as if all of existence faded away. The din of traffic speeding on the highway with only their bug-smeared headlights vanished to a light wind. All my ears could pick up was my heart and paws beating the same steady drum cadence.

Wind of my making rippled through my fur, but I shook off the cold. At the end of my snout, I could barely see the puffs of steam rising from my nostrils. With the moon behind, and nothing but eternal indigo ahead, I stared at my breath.

What are we doing?

My wolf was pleased to run, to stretch the muscles that’d been cramped not in a car but by my human skin. But it wanted me to turn around and run back to the motel. To her.

We can go back.

And if he’s already replaced me?

The wolf had no answer to that. It didn’t go in much for higher thought, preferring instinct and reaction. The reflexes and heightened senses were nice, but when it came to decision-making it knew who to bow to.

We can take our turn.

That’d been the plan. For a month, she’d choose between the two of us. I barely even saw the demon aside from when stopping by her place. But if she was already growing tired of me, of all of this…

I flexed my paw into the ground, slicing the claws deep into the dirt. The last time she’d faced paws like that, she’d nearly died.

I hadn’t changed in front of her since. Who wouldn’t look upon bones rippling, skin snapping, and see a monster? It came from a monster.

We should turn back. The moon is falling.

There the wolf took precedence. I could maintain this form even in daylight, but people driving into work would question a wolf running through their streets. And others in the motel stumbling for their free breakfast would probably dash for a shotgun.

I needed to return before anyone saw me.

In a heartbeat, the wolf pivoted. My right paw had planted deep into the cold soil when the hair down my back stood up. Something was wrong.

My ears shifted, homing in on a sound far in the distance. I raised my head and turned to look back to the south. A massive light of blue and red burst over the horizon.

What was that?

Both wolf and man ran for it. As I climbed up the rare hill in Kansas, the mass of incoherent noise broke into sounds. A woman screamed, not in pain but anger. She said something, but I couldn’t make it out.

Oh sh*t! A gunshot ripped through the air, setting off a yelp in my throat. My tail dropped between my legs, phantom pains shooting through my old bullet wound. The wolf wanted me to turn around, but I gritted my teeth, spittle dripping from my lips and freezing on my coat.

“You sonnofabitch!” the woman shouted. She wasn’t dead. Or she was the one shooting. Hard to say.

I launched myself up the hill. A single car cast its harsh headlights over a bloody scene. The silhouette of a woman clutched her leg as she limped back from two men armed with shotguns.

“Stand down,” one ordered, raising the barrel higher.

The woman paused in escaping, but she stood taller. Wings of gold erupted from her back. Even in the dark shadows of the night, they glowed, every speck of firelight sparkling as she flapped.

“F*ck you,” she shouted and raised her hand.

A rumble shook below my feet. Deep within the earth, I felt the ground, the very grains of dirt shattering apart. The woman flitted her golden wings wide and snapped her open palm at the men.

They stumbled back, their guns aiming wildly into the air. A pitiful poof of sand, like a kid blowing off dust, burst from the ground.

“Ugh! I hate this f*ck*ng terrain!” she screamed.

Another shot rang out, this one tearing through her wing. The left crumpled, golden sparks careening past to highlight the bullet’s path. A heart-wrenching shriek of pain burst from the woman and she fell to her knees.

I watched, too far away to do anything, as the second man aimed his gun at the helpless woman.

No!

A net spidered through the air, striking the woman. The weights attached to it swung back, slamming into her body and knotting together until she fell to the dirt. She screamed at them, trying to raise the ground to do her bidding, but the men laughed at their captured prey.

It was their turn.

Both men tucked their guns to their shoulders, one holding back while the other reached for the net to drag the woman away. I leaped for the arm. In that second, I smelled not only their soap and cologne, but the coffee they’d stopped for, the powdered sugar that had fallen in his lap and the utter cruelty in his heart.

All four hundred pounds of me landed on the man’s spine. He screamed in shock and pain as I knocked him to the ground. Aware of the threat in his hand, I locked my jaws around his shoulder and bit. Not deep enough to sever any muscle or arteries, but the pain sundered straight to his palm, casting off the gun.

The other man heard his companion. He stopped reaching for the net and turned.

Frozen dirt packed into the ground by the churning of tractor wheels. The tips of dead grass frosted by a late snow. The stench of diesel fuel and the herd of pigs in the truck on the breeze. Pinpricks of light dimmed in the distance the farther I slipped over the flat horizon.

Under the black skies with stars straining against the town’s glare a mile back, it was as if all of existence faded away. The din of traffic speeding on the highway with only their bug-smeared headlights vanished to a light wind. All my ears could pick up was my heart and paws beating the same steady drum cadence.

Wind of my making rippled through my fur, but I shook off the cold. At the end of my snout, I could barely see the puffs of steam rising from my nostrils. With the moon behind, and nothing but eternal indigo ahead, I stared at my breath.

What are we doing?

My wolf was pleased to run, to stretch the muscles that’d been cramped not in a car but by my human skin. But i