CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Peter and Angie took advantage of the brief pause in his attack Garrou’s pain had allowed them, though it proved useless. They unleashed a constant barrage of shotgun blasts directly into his face and chest as fast as they could, switching out their spent guns for preloaded ones. Peter’s ears rang painfully from the battle-like cacophony while the air was thick with smoke and the pungent smell of gunpowder, but the pellets just bounced off his body like they were spitballs.
Garrou attacked them again with even more primal rage after just a short respite, his slashes and swings wild. Peter saw their shotgun blasts had him wavering and on his heels, yet still he came back attacking furiously.
At one point he managed to grab hold of Angie’s shotgun, and Peter felt an icy
