Awakening the Dragon-Book One of the Dragon Clan Trilogy--an excerpt


Awakening the Dragon-

Book One of the Dragon Clan Trilogy:

an excerpt.

Awakening the Dragon--Book One of the Dragon Clan Trilogy is a magical fantasy in the style of Marion Zimmer Bradley and Anne McCaffrey with a little J R Rowlings mixed in. The main difference is that Theresa Chaze is a Wiccan Priestess includes working Wiccan rituals in her fiction. She believes that she doesn't have the right to deprive her readers of the truth about the Wiccan and Pagan religions. It is available in paper back through fine bookstores and as an ebook at www.theresachaze.com

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rachael awoke. The room was dark and unfamiliar. From the corner came the comforting sounds of scratching and the litter box being used. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was. She lay back in the peaceful quiet, allowing herself to be warm and safe. The day crept up on her. She rolled over trying to avoid it. The memories followed. Yawning, she stretched, tucking her arms under her forehead. She wanted to drift back to sleep. If there had been a problem, someone else had dealt with it. Her stomach rumbled. Shush, she mentally told it, live off the fat of the thighs for a while. Her bladder wasn't so easily quieted.

One of the kids jumped on the bed. From the walking pattern, she suspected it was Ralph. He crossed the bed and curled up across the small of her back. The added pressure she didn't need. Licking the front of her teeth, she lifted herself on to her elbows. Gently sliding Ralph onto the bed, she sat up, her feet searching for her shoes. She slipped them on and stood. Her fingers trailing along the bed to the foot, she walked toward the table with the lamp on it. At the foot of the bed, she held her hands out in front, trying to find obstacles in front of her before she tripped over them. Good in theory, but the practice left a little to be desired. She ran into something hard where there shouldn't have been anything. Startled, she stopped. Stooping she followed it around to the table with the lamp on it. Turning it on, the brightness blinded her. She closed her eyes, giving them time to adjust. Moments later, she tested them again. Blinking rapidly, she looked around the room. Boxes were neatly stacked wherever there had been free floor space.

Merlin sat in the window looking out. He turned to her and blinked, before returning his attention to the darkness.

Both Tara and Ralph lay on the bed. Tara was asleep. Ralph stretched out on his back, where she had rolled him. He looked at her with a kitty smile on his face; he wanted his belly rubbed.

She walked across the room and sat on the bed. Smiling back at him, she scratched his belly. He purred.

Merlin jumped down from the sill onto the bed. Rubbing his full length across her free arm, he also asked for attention. She scratched his head and he harmonized with Ralph.

Rachael yawned. She was still tired and needed more rest, but not until later. She gave both a final scratch and headed for the bathroom. Some things can only wait for so long. She opened the door, quickly closing it behind her. Feeling along the wall, she found the hall switch and turned it on. The light shone into the spare bedroom, across a twin size mattress with three inhabitants. It must be later than she thought. Quietly she looked in the room. All three seemed to be breathing. That was good. She closed the door so the light no longer shone on them and went downstairs.

The kitchen was dark, but there was a light on in the living room. Turning off the stairway light, she went into the bathroom and took care of business. Crossing the dining room, she heard a low growl emanate from the living room. The closer she walked, the louder the warning became. Rachael stopped at the archway.

Carmen reclined on the sofa, her feet up and the largest German Shepherd Rachael had ever seen lay on the floor in front. The dog stared, his teeth bared; ears erect. Seeing her, he half rose to his feet. Carmen reached over and scratched his ears. He licked her hand, but kept his attention on Rachael. Carmen turned the page.

"Well?" Rachael leaned against the archway.

"Well, what?"

"You going to introduce me to your bud or do I have to get a whip and chair to walk into my own living room?"

Carmen lay the book face down on her lap. "Chester, meet Rachael."

The dog looked over his shoulder at his prone mistress.

Carmen drew a pentagram in front of him and pointed at Rachael. The dog immediately relaxed. "Rachael meet Chester."

Again she drew the pentagram and pointed at Rachael. Taking his cue the dog crossed the room sniffed her feet and her crotch. Standing on his hind legs, he placed his front paws on her shoulders and licked her face. Carmen snapped her fingers. Chester's paws hit the floor and he returned to his position next to Carmen.

Rachael wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Ick. Doggy breath."

Carmen picked up her book. "You slept through dinner. We tried. You weren't interested."

"I suspected."

"You're awake, alive and vertical. Go make your own dinner."

"Gee thanks mom." Rachael half turned toward the kitchen. "How are the girls?"

"Well fed. Tired. Confused."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Carmen laid the book back down and looked at Rachael, "will be."

"One of us will have to stay with them."

"I volunteer you. What needs to be done at the Den, I can do. The stuff here only you can deal with."

"I agree." Through the window, Rachael saw the reflection of moonlight on metal and movement around it. "There's someone outside."

"Our escort."

"Didn't you invite them in?"

"They won't." Carmen pointed around the room. "They're afraid. The cottage has a rep. It's why I didn't want to stay."

Rachael unfurled her hand in front of her. "Why?"

"Stories. What people have seen and heard coming form here since Sarah died. Even Kevin doesn't stay long since his grandmother died." Carmen paused. "I must admit. It's nothing like what I expected. I wouldn't call it the welcome wagon. But I've felt safer here than in town."

"Kevin said something to that effect."

"Did the two of you talk much?"

"Jealous?" Rachael's stomach growled.

"Go eat." Carmen picked up her book and proceeded to ignore her.

Pushing her hair back over her forehead and tucking it back behind her ear, Rachael pivoted and head for the kitchen. "It' not over until--"

Carmen immediately broke into single high-pitched note which sort of resembled opera.

"You don't qualify for the role." Rachael shouted back, turning on the kitchen light.

The howling started. The singing stopped, followed by giggling.

Laughing, Rachael opened the refrigerator. Her mind filled with the image of Carmen wearing long, flowing robes, a breastplate, and brandishing a sword. The horned hat kept slipping off and rolling away. Carmen kept picking it up and proudly displaying her sword. Snickering to herself, she scanned the full shelves. Nothing looked good. Again her stomach complained about the neglect.

The shelves were full, but nothing looked good, sounded good, or smelled good. She didn't feel like cooking. It was a dilemma. She laughed at herself. Who was it who said, 'ten bags of groceries, you should be able to find something. She closed the door. What to do? She looked through the cabinet. She checked the refrigerator again, just to make sure nothing changed. It hadn't. Rats!

A black nose, attached to a brown and black furry body, appeared next to her, also looking inside. He looked up at her.

"See anything good?"

He cocked his head to one side, as if he was thinking. His head straightened. Snapping forward, he grabbed the cheese and dashed toward the dining room.

"Your son just swiped the Muenster."

"Chester. Take it back."

The taping of nails on the dining room floor halted and reversed. He dropped the unopened package on her foot. Looking up at her, he seemed to say, "you offered."

Rachael picked up the cellophane package. "I meant for me." She looked at the package. He waged his tail. He had such sad puppy-dog eyes. After all she did imply-she zipped open the bag and gave him a slice. "Don't tell your mom."

He ate it, standing next to her.

She closed the package and returned it to the fridge. Bribery was good. It didn't help her situation. Closing the door, she leaned against it, trying to imagine what would taste good. Sugar. Coke-a cold, bubbly bottle of caffeine at its best. Sighing she slide down, her touche bumping on the floor. Looking straight into the brown eyes, she whined. Chester sat down; tell me your troubles, his eyes said.

"Caffeine is my drug of choice. One sip and it'll be a six pack before breakfast by the end of next week."

"Then don't take that first sip."

Startled, Rachael snapped her head back to look up at Carmen. "Pet therapy."

"Huhu. Don't say that to anyone but a devotee of pets or they'll lock you up."

"I know." Rachael folded her arms across her chest. "What am I hungry for?"

"Food."

"Nothing sounds good." Rachael whined.

Carmen took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. "What are your favorite foods?"

"Lobster. Shrimp."

"Didn't see any." Carmen drank.

"Blueberries."

She placed the empty glass in the sink. "You bought blueberry yogurt and waffles."

"Don't sound good."

"Life's rough. I have to take your therapist for walk, so he can do his thing." She snapped her fingers; Chester jumped to attention. "Go for walk Weasel-boy."

Chester wagged his tail throughout most of his body.

"Ok, handsome. Let's go." She walked toward the back door, stopping just at the threshold. "Let me know how your dilemma works out."

"Sure thing."

The twosome exited through the door, carefully closing it behind it behind them. Seconds later the outside door opened and closed. Chester happily barked. Carmen laughed at him.

For an instant, she was jealous, but then she remembered the love upstairs. Dogs were great, loving and protective. Cats walked in realms most people could only imagine. Their voices grew more distant and Rachael turned her attention to the business at hand. Toast with jam and butter. Scrambled eggs with syrup and a large glass of milk.

She stood and looked around the kitchen. The covered toaster sat in the corner of the left part of the counter. She pulled the cover off. It was clean inside. She hoped it worked. She plugged it in and pushed down the lever. The elements turned red. "Good."

Gathering the ingredients for her meal, she placed a frying pan on the stove and started the butter melting. Scrambling the eggs in a bowl, she added milk, garlic and spices. Suddenly the scrambled eggs became an omelet. Turning off the heat, she diced mushrooms and onions. She tossed them in the pan and turned the heat back on. The veggies sizzled. Stirring them with one hand she reached for a tomato with the other. She placed it on the cutting board and poured the egg mixture into the pan, lowering the heat. The yellow mixture engulfed the veggies.

The sizzling from the pan was the only sound in the house. Rachael yawned. It had been a long day of reacting and more reacting. No time to think or feel-to absorb any of the changes in her life. So much needed to be sorted through, literally as well as figuratively. She hated clutter. She diced the tomato and pulled the cheese from the fridge. The eggs bubbled. She laid the Muenster on top and covered the pan. She started the toast, promising herself to start organizing first thing in the morning.

Suddenly she was a caretaker to three children who trusted her to protect them. At times she couldn't take care of herself. How long would they be together? Goddess give me a clue. She lifted the lid and turned off the heat. Grabbing a handful of tomatoes, she spread them on top and folded the omelet over, sliding the whole thing onto a plate. The toast popped up. She filled the glass with milk and returned the carton to the refrigerator along with the rest of the extra food.

She sat at the table and looked at it. It was a picture perfect meal, except she was no longer hungry. Even her stomach had changed its mind. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she tried to clear her mind. There was so much to think about, so many decisions to be made. Her brain felt foggy. She needed it to be clear. She took a bite. It was food, not good or bad. Just food. She swallowed, chasing it down with milk.

Her furniture had to be moved out of the Den. Tomorrow supplies would start arriving; there wouldn't be room. Tomorrow she needed to make order of the mess. But tonight she needed to find her toothbrush and night stuff.

Tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day...she still remembered the speech from high school. It's funny what the mind will dig up from the past when the present is on overload.

She forced down several more bites of the omelet, a piece of toast and the milk. Pushing the plate away, she licked the milk off her lip and lay her head down on her folded arms. So much to do; so little time. Her eyes felt heavy. She yawned. Reality began slipping, giving way to an in-between meditative state. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to it as easily as a lover's kiss.

Around her the house remained quiet. Mentally she surveyed the room. Upstairs, all the kids slept, both Meredith's and her own. She sensed it'd been a long time since the girls had an opportunity to peacefully dream of children's matters. She made a mental note to check their blankets. Returning her attention downstairs, she wafted through the dining room into the living room. As if she was standing in front of the picture window, she watched the two men. One smoked a cigarette. . The other tucked his hands deeply in his pockets. They no longer spoke. She whispered to them her gratitude and it was time to go home. The one with his hands in his pockets nervously looked around. He spoke to his companion. Rachael couldn't hear what was said, but the companion looked around and laughed. It was not her intention to frighten them. She decided to speak to them before she went to bed.

Looking out the window, she watched the leaves reflect the partial moon, casting movable shadows on the ground. Both the light and the shadows seemed muted in the little more than quarter moonlight. In a novel, there would be crickets and frogs; an owl would look down high from a tree and a mystery brewing. But this wasn't a novel. It was a peaceful moment, set aside before she went to sleep. Smiling, she enjoyed it. Some how she knew tomorrow was already well taken care of.

She wanted to remain, enjoying the picture of perfection. Instead she was compelled to return her consciousness to the kitchen. With the speed of a thought, she returned. Seeing her body in the third person, she realized her hair needed brushing and washing if it got any closer to the omelet.

Her consciousness made a dip. She snapped awake. Carefully raising her head, she pushed the plate further away. .

Outside, Chester barked; Carmen shushed him. Moments later the back porch door opened. Chester pushed his way in, followed by Carmen. He sniffed Rachael, just to check identity and turned his attention to his water dish.

"Still up?"

"Barely. Your son eat people food?"

Carmen shook her head. "Not good for him."

"Understand. How was the walk?"

"Chilly. But good. About our guard-"

"They should go home. It's late. We're safe." Rachael stood. "I'll go tell them."
Carmen motioned for her to sit. "No reason for both of us to be cold."

"Want some tea?"

Carmen shook her head. "Be back."

"Before you go. Know which box has my toothbrush in it?"

"It's in the bathroom. The girls were nice enough to unpack boxes while I made dinner." Carmen sadly shook her head. "They're good kids. Deserve better than they're getting."

"Ain't that the Goddess's honest."

Carmen slapped her thigh and walked toward the front door. Chester immediately followed.

Rachael followed only as far as the bathroom. Through the window, she watched them walk across the yard. The guys met her part way. Few minutes later, they started their bikes and were headed back toward town. Carmen picked up a stick and threw it. Chester caught it. She chased him. He chased her.

Definitely true love, Rachael thought, turning on the bathroom light. Five toothbrushes hung in the holder. One she recognized as her own. There were three children's and a yellow one that must belong to Carmen. The towels were hung. A new bar of soap was in the dish. All was clean and shiny. The girls did a spectacular job. Maybe she could hire them as maids. Smiling, she reached for her brush and squeezed toothpaste on it. It was a normal act; how refreshing. Finishing she rinsed her mouth and washed her face. Drying she felt a bit more like herself. Gratefully, she reached for the moisturizer; waking up like a prune didn't appeal to her. Looking into the mirror, she applied the creamy liquid. It was a wonderfully boring act. She finished her bathroom routine by brushing her hair.

Carmen and Chester had returned. He lay on the floor beside the sofa. "Going to bed?"

"Right after I check the girls and get you some bedding."

"Upstairs."

Rachael nodded, walking toward the stairs.

"I'll follow oh great glorious leader." Carmen whispered a few feet behind.

Rachael stopped at the foot. "Do I detect sarcasm oh mighty Tonto?"

Putting on a bad Mexican accent, Carmen touched her chest with her open palm. "Nots me Quicksdraw."

"Mixed metaphor."

"The white hat and silver bullets wouldn't suit you."
"Don't be so sure."

"Right." Carmen pushed her toward the top. "Kids. Blankets. Sleep. Norman's bringing the crew at nine to work your castle."

"Yea and ick." Rachael led the way up. Stopping at the small bedroom, she cracked the door open.

All three girls slept soundly. The stress lines around their eyes and lessened, but hadn't disappeared. Shawna lay in the middle, blanket wrapped around her arm with both hands tucked under the pillow. Melanie had partially rolled off the mattress onto the floor.

Quietly Rachael tip toed in and rolled her back, recovering her. The child stirred in her sleep, but did not wake. She reached across, pulling the blankets up over them and rejoined Carmen in the hall, closing the door behind her. "Do you think they'll be warm enough?"

"Three blankets. Each other. The house isn't that cold."

"Long as you're sure. The blankets are in the closet in my room."

"Me, sure?" Carmen followed her down the hall. "I don't know nothing 'bout no babies."

Rachael stopped and half turned, giving her a can-we-stop-now look.

Carmen snapped her hands up in front of her, palms toward Rachael feigning defensiveness. "Don't beat me, Miss Rachael. I'll stop. I'll stop."

Looking upward, Rachael shook her head. "Give me strength." She opened the door. The light was still on. "My kids." All three were curled up on the bed.

"We met when I brought your stuff up."

"They didn't try to get out?"

"I parked Chester at the top of the stairs. They were real cooperative."

Rachael's jaw dropped. "Don't ever do that again."
"Nobody got hurt. And you'll have fresh undies for the morning." Carmen held out her arms. "My blankets and pillow please."

"Just don't do it again."

"You sleep real sound. For a minute I thought you were dead."

Rachael opened the closet and pulled out a pillow. "Surprised you didn't try a mirror test."

Carmen reached for the pillow. "Couldn't find one."

"Pillow?" Rachael hit her in the chest with the pillow and reached for the blankets. "One or two."

"To be safe, two." Carmen stepped back, preparing for incoming projectiles.

Grabbing two blankets and a set of sheets, she turned and held them out to Carmen. "Night."

Tucking the pillow under her arm, she accepted the offered bedding. "Don't let the bedbugs bite."

"Not funny. Out."

Carmen pivoted on her toes and sauntered to the door. Shifting the weight in her arms, she opened it. Slipping out, she stopped, stuck out her tongue and closed the door behind her.

Yawning, Rachael shook her head. It was going to be interesting. She walked to the bed, stripping as she went. At the foot of the bed, she remembered the light and turned it off. She felt her way back to the bed. "Make room for mom.

No one moved. Gently she nudged and prodded until she found comfort. Rolling over on her stomach and tucking her arms under the pillow, she said her nightly blessing of protection and gratitude. Tara walked up the bed and curled up beside her shoulder. She closed her eyes.






















CHAPTER NINE

Rachael woke with a start, as she was suddenly ripped from the dream and thrown back into her body. She lay there dazed. The room was dark. The house was quiet. There was no reason to leave her sexual liaison. She rolled over and tried to make the jump back into the realm of sleep. Something tugged at her sense of awareness. It was annoying. Frustrated she turned over, disturbing the kids. She apologized. She sat up. She felt like a puppet with its strings being pulled taunt. She looked upward. "Ok. I'm up. What?"

Downstairs. A voice whispered in her head.

"Downstairs." She stood and felt her way to the light switch. It was covered by something warm with no real texture. "I need to find my robe."

No light.

"Swell. She felt in the darkness for her jeans and shirt. Her toe found the post of the bed as she discovered he shirt. "Shit." She whispered. "Why always at night?"

She found her jeans and slipped them on, carefully zipping them up. Arms extended she searched for the door. Crouching to prevent any escapes, she turned the knob. A late night dog-cat fight wouldn't be fun for anyone. Walking down the hall, she listened at the girls' door. She heard them breathing. Carefully she continued downstairs to the dining room. She looked toward the kitchen. It was dark. The living room was the same. Maybe Carmen called. She walked to the archway and listened. It was quiet. Hesitating, she whispered. "Carmen?"

"Rachael?" Carmen's voice quivered from the darkness. "Did you hear something?"

"I'm not sure. I just woke up."

"Why are you whispering?"

"Why are you?" Rachael retorted, unable to raise the volume of her voice. "Turn on a light."

"You."

"I can't. Something told me not to."

"Me too." The sheets rustled. "Chester yelped once and hid behind the couch."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Walking across the room, Carmen bumped into a chair. "Owe!"

"Aren't you supposed to be a sensitive?

"I am. It hurt."

"Very funny. You didn't wake me for this?"

Carmen bumped into her and stopped. "It wasn't me."

Three pair of headlights were parked on the road on either side of the driveway. Doors opened and closed. Male voices drifted across the distance.

"The cellular is in the kitchen. I'll get it." Carefully Rachael turned and held her arms in front to warn her in advance of obstacles.

"Come here, Chester." Carmen whispered.

The dog whined once and was silent.

Rachael reached the kitchen. First she checked to make sure the back door was locked. She propped a chair against the knob and reached for the phone. Outside she saw only darkness. The predicted storm must have rolled in obscuring the moon and stars. She turned it on. The buttons lit up and the dial tone buzzed. She pushed 911.

After three rings a female voice answered. "911. State the nature of your emergency."

"My name is Rachael Franklin. I'm at…oh, shit, what's the address?"

"You don't know your address?"

"I just moved in. It's the cottage on the Mitchellson property. There are some men outside."

"So?"

"They're not supposed to be there. Send some help! Now!" Rachael's voice rose.

"Quiet!" Carmen snapped from the living room. "They're walking toward the house."

Rachael stumbled back to the living room, nearly dropping the phone. "Can you tell how many?"

"Hello-hello?" The disembodied voice started to sound concerned.

"I saw at least seven in the headlights."

Rachael brought the receiver back to her mouth. "There are at least seven. Maybe more. I was threatened today by the House of Christ."

"I understand Ms Franklin. I found a note about you. Hold on." The line went silent for a moment.

As if on cue a dim band of light appeared in the yard, as a hole in the storm clouds drifted over. It illuminated part of the yard, but was not strong enough to penetrate the trees.

Another female voice came on the line. "Ms Franklin we've dispatched officers to your location. Please stay on the line."

"How long?"

"Five to seven minutes."

Two men stepped into the yard. Someone called to them. They looked to the right and stepped back into the shadows.

"Lady, " Rachael whispered, "that's not fast enough."

"I'll get a knife." Carmen whispered.

"Back door is locked. I put a chair against it."

"Thanks. I'll check the window." Carmen made her way to the kitchen. Moments later silverware rattled. "Shit. I can't see anything."

"Two knives in the sink. I didn't wash them after dinner."

"Thank Goddess for messiness."

"Ms Franklin-Ms Franklin?"

Checking the front door lock, Rachael brought the phone to her mouth. "Lady, we're a bit busy. Don't have time to chat. Just send help." She dropped the phone on the desk. The woman at the other end continued to talk. Doing her best not to be seen through the window, Rachael pushed the desk in front of the door. The weight of the computer made it heavier than she expected. The dragging sound echoed through the house.

Carmen ran back. "What?"

"Moving the desk to block the door."

"Good. Here." Something touched her shoulder. It was Carmen's hand with one of the knives in it. "Next time use something bigger than a paring knife."

Rachael took it. "Warn me in advance and I will."

The hole traveled beyond the lawn, leaving darkness behind it. A man crept around the perimeter toward the house. He waved his hand forward. Two more joined him. Only their movement revealed their locations.

Chester whined.

Both Carmen and Rachael jumped, startled by the sound inside the house.

"Carmen, what's wrong with him. He didn't seem like the nervous type."

"He isn't. That's what scares me. He once took on two muggers. No problem." Carmen's voice quivered with fear. "I don't understand. They shouldn't be able to get so close."

"What do you mean?"

"I heard the cottage had special protection--a guardian who wouldn't allow men to do harm."

Suddenly a piece fell into place and Rachael understood what she needed to do. "Guardian spirits, I give you leave to protect me and mine. To do what is necessary to defend us and prevent them from doing harm." The air around them quickly charged with a high pitched buzzing, which radiated outward.

Carmen grabbed her arm. "What did you do?"

'What was necessary."

One man screamed and pointed. He pushed past the three men. Another shouted at him. The man ignored him, continuing down the driveway toward the trucks. To the left of the house, a man yelled for help; the fear in his voice becoming terror. Suddenly he was silent. One man ran a few steps into the center of the yard, calling to him. The all around screams intertwined with growls. Pain flooded another man's incoherent voice. A shot ran out; quickly followed by another.

In unison, Rachael and Carmen jumped, startled by the shot.

Another break in the clouds illuminated the yard. Two men joined the one in the front yard. They tried pulling him toward the road. . He fought them, pointing at the house and yelling. A Tiger leaped from the shadows. It pushed him to the ground. He disappeared beneath its sheer mass His companions were knocked away. He screamed. They ran toward the road. One was caught nearly immediately. He screeched once. The other one didn't look back. Zigzagging, he raced to the pickups. The felines close on his heels.

A man banged on the front door, begging to be let in.

Startled, Rachael jumped away from the door, bumping into Carmen. She knew what was about to happen. She had called them--gave them permission to do what they must to protect them. She could stop it with a single thought. But that was not really an option. To stop them now would only lead to more blood shed in the future. The banging increased. The doorknob rattled. The man attempted to break in. The door vibrated. He screamed obscenities. The door violently shook. The growling came down to the porch. The screaming increased in pitch. A heavy object was thrown against the door. The screaming suddenly stopped. Something was dragged away and down the front stairs. Outside suddenly became silent. The hole in the clouds closed in on itself. Once again the yard was dark.

From the road, engines started. The lights shot backward. Tires screeched. One truck swerved into the ditch. The horn blasted.

In the distance, police sirens raced closer.

Rachael watched the pickup dance with an unseen partner. She gripped the knife in one hand, Carmen's forearm in the other. Beneath her fingertips, she felt Carmen's pulse racing.

The truck lights bounced and stopped. The wheels whined. Glass broke. Muffled screams intertwined with growling. Only it was different. The guardians hadn't followed them past the yard. When they were no longer a threat, the attack ended. What was happening out there had nothing to do with them. Another force had intercepted them as they had tried to escape. More canine than feline, the growling and snapping continued as the men were dragged from the pickups. The largest shadow howled, taking the physical shape of a wolf. The other three followed suite. The men dashed, running blindly. The wolf toyed with them. The men screamed. Car lights appeared in the distance. The game was over. Unlike the guardians, it was not a quick kill.