Fuck Around and Find Out
Roan's pack moved fast.
Cass grabbed the 30-06 rifle from the wall safe and rushed upstairs, heart pounding. The others followed close behind. He dropped to one knee at the upstairs window, flipped open the scope, and took a quick look.
“Shit,” he muttered. “We’ve got company. Six panthers, moving in formation toward the house. They look… cocky. Real cocky. Like they think they’re the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad or something. Assault rifles.”
Roan stepped up beside him, already reaching into a hidden panel in the floor. With a heavy stomp of his boot, a section of the floor slid open and a mounted machine gun rose up on a mechanical lift, already loaded.
“Time for some fuck around and find out,” Roan growled, chambering the first round.
He tossed Cass a single cursed silver 30-06 round, easily $100,000 if there were such a market for it. “Sorry, pup. I know you didn’t ask for this.”
Cass didn’t hesitate. He loaded the round, took aim, and fired.
The silver bullet screamed through the night and punched straight through the lead panther’s heart, a thick blue trail hanging in the air like mist from the round. The cat dropped instantly, dead before he hit the ground.
At the same time, Roan opened fire with the machine gun. The thunderous roar of heavy rounds tore through the front yard, chewing up dirt and sending the panthers scattering. Three of them took heavy hits; one limping badly, another crawling, the third clutching a shredded shoulder.
“They’re out of silver,” Cass said, watching through the scope. “No blue streaks on their return fire. That first volley must’ve been expensive as hell for them.”
Kiran’s ears perked up. “Are they near the yard borders yet?”
“Almost,” Cass replied.
Kiran grinned, sharp and vicious. “Good.”
He pulled out a small detonator and pressed the button.
The front yard exploded.
Cursed silver or not, one of the panthers was blown to pieces, nothing left to regenerate from. The blast lit up the night in a fireball of dirt, fire, and shredded flesh.
The remaining four panthers made it to the house, smashing through windows and doors. Suddenly the fight was inside.
It turned into pure chaos.
Gunfire ripped through the living room. Cass ducked behind the couch as bulets tore through the walls. Roan laid down suppressing fire with the machine gun while Kiran rolled behind cover, reloading his pistol with practiced speed, wincing at the pain of the round burning inside his butt cheek.
They came in hard.
Windows shattered. Doors were kicked in. Four panthers stormed the living room from multiple angles, rifles already firing. The fight turned into pure, chaotic close-quarters combat.
A panther lunged at Cass from the side. Cass swung the rifle like a club, cracking the cat across the face, but the panther recovered fast and tackled him to the ground. They grappled hard, claws and teeth flashing, panthers still having the might of a big cat, natural advantage. Cass managed to get his knee up and drove it into the panther’s ribs, but the bigger male was stronger. He pinned Cass down, raising a pistol toward his head.
Cass’s eyes widened.
Then the panther’s head came clean off.
Standing behind the corpse, blood dripping from a cursed silver katana, was Zariel. Khepri stood right beside him, dual-wielding pistols and already dropping another panther with two precise shots to the chest and head.
“Miss us?” Zariel asked calmly, flicking blood off his blade.
Kiran’s head snapped around so fast his ears flopped. “Z!”
“Later, fox!” Zariel barked as more gunfire erupted.
The fight was brutal and close. The remaining panthers fought dirty, but they were outnumbered and outmatched. Khepri moved like he’d been born for this, the little canine was fast, vicious, and surprisingly accurate. He dropped one panther with a shot to the knee, then finished him with a second round to the head while Zariel carved through another with the silver katana.
Roan pulled his cursed silver dagger from the hidden safe and joined the fray. Between his blade and Zariel’s katana, the last two panthers didn’t stand a chance. The standard gunfire rounds the panthers had tried to tank with their over-confidence, and it was impressive to see the sleek black furred muscle bound bodies shirk off the impacts, but soon the pack was overwhelming them, bullets, kicks, tackles. Enough to daze them while Zariel and Roan delivered the blows that really mattered, cursed silver blades to the hearts and throats.
When the gunfire finally stopped, the house was a wreck; bullet holes everywhere, furniture destroyed, the smell of gunpowder thick in the air.
Everyone stood there breathing hard.
Then Kiran dropped his guns and launched himself at Zariel, wrapping his arms and legs around the massive white wolf like a koala. He didn't seem bothered by the hole in his cheek anymore.
“Z! You’re back! You’re actually back!”
Zariel caught him easily, one arm under the fox’s ass to hold him up. A rare, tired smile crossed his muzzle.
“Is that a gun in your pocket, fox,” he asked, voice rough, “or are you just happy to see me?”
Kiran pulled back just enough to grin at him, eyes sparkling. “Very happy to see you.”
Before anyone could say anything else, a fresh volley of gunfire ripped through the house. The power cut out instantly, plunging everything into darkness.
“Fuckers hit the electrical!” Kiran yelled from Zariel’s arms. “Dammit, this house is nice too!”
Cass moved to the window and cursed. “New squad. At least eight more panthers. They’re bringing silver this time, I can see the blue streaks from a few of the guns.”
They all ducked as another wave of bullets tore through the walls.
Zariel gently set Kiran down. His icy blue eyes were calm, but there was something dangerous in them.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Everyone stay here. Hunker down in the back. I’ll be back.”
Roan grabbed his arm. “Zariel—”
“I said I’ll be back.”
Without another word, Zariel turned and walked toward the front of the house, silver katana in hand, disappearing into the darkness as the gunfire continued to rage.
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