The Bloods rushed them en-masse, emerging from the darkness like avenging angels bent on death and destruction. Brett snarled, dropping into a defensive crouch. With no need for concealment now, he kicked his heart into action, using the sudden blood flow to shove adrenaline around his system, increasing his strength and speed. Not that he needed it. Since he’d been changed into what he was, he could play chicken with a tank and come out the winner. But these were Bloods and he had something—someone—to protect now.
Time slowed, dilating, and he used the time to study their enemy. The Bloods were wraiths in the darkness, only the occasional flash of white fangs to mark their movements. They could freeze at a moment’s notice, utterly and unnaturally still to avoid detection, or burst into m
