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made was like all the shrieks in the world had been bundled
together into one horrible, deafening sound.
When it burst outside, it stepped on what was left of the
fire, shooting flames into the air. The strangely rejuvenated
fire tossed an orange glow upon the trees outlining the
boundaries of the courtyard. All the Wolves save one were
blown backwards by the explosive debris. The big guy with
the huge left arm stood his ground, batting aside a huge
chunk of stone as easily as the monster had knocked it
free. The two collided with each other, and I swear I felt a
shockwave rattle my bones. The monster crashed a wicked
fist down upon Lefty, who to his credit, didn’t break into
fucking pieces. Lefty just cranked back that gigantic arm
of his and threw a terrific haymaker into the creature’s jaw.
He practically spun the thing in a complete circle. Despite
the ungodly wallop it took, the creature was undeterred,
hammer-fisting Lefty to his knees.
As the two grappled, the monster was suddenly dragged
backwards by its shadow. It was the golden goblin, reaching
out from the darkness. The masked shadow flung the creature
through a huge stone column of the church, but no sooner
had the creature been buried in stone than it exploded free.
If I understood the game plan, beyond simply joining
forces, the Wolves were combining their Red Dreams—what
Mr. Grey refer to as Blood Holidays. These dreams were
some sort of suspension of the laws of nature that granted
them exceptional abilities when they were near one another.
With four of them joined together, surely they outmatched
the monster.
Next came my captor, slicing through the darkness, blade
outstretched. He caught the monster in the chest, plunging
the blade of his cane-sword deep into the beast’s heart. Yet
the creature seemed unfazed, and with a fierce backhand, it
nearly took Mr. Grey’s head off.
Before the creature had fully recovered from my master’s
attack, the woman with spiderwebs for hair appeared behind
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