His body looked more bestial, more powerful than Kate had ever seen it. That, together with his eerie yellow eyes, was enough to warn her well away. This wasn’t Tom as she knew him. She could hear it, in the way he bellowed his rage up at Marcie and Swagger. The two ’wolves were leaning over the side of the bridge above them, snapping their jaws, their sinister silhouettes blotting out stars. Kate had seen the rage that had taken Tom up on the bridge, the excessive violence he’d meted out. The glazed, unseeing look in his eyes had reminded her of Swagger and his generals back at the arena – and those unwilling warriors fighting for survival in the rink. Now that rage was back – only, in his ’wolf form, Tom could be unstoppable. He leaped down from the scaffolding and landed half on land, half in the water. At once, two black shapes detached themselves from the darkness and attacked him. Jesus, there were more ’wolves down there, lying in wait – they’d been surrounded.
