My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

Incredulity

The wolf charged through the trees, just beyond the tiny clearing where Alcuard was making his stand with Lito. His body still bore the wounds left by werewolf's mighty jaws, and his confidence was deeply shaken by the narrowness of his survival.

And now Isabella was asking him to act as bait in a plan she wasn't sharing. As much as Alcuard was enjoying the rush of excitement over a battle he might not be able to win, it also was not a fight in which he wished to handcuff himself.

"She wants me to stand here and wait? You're sure?"

"Sounds like it," Lito Cardego replied, a dozen feet away. "Just hold your position. She has a plan of some kind."

Lito turned away. "He's in position. But I'd like to know what the hell you're up to."

The wolf skidded to a stop just at the edge of the trees and stared with malevolence and barely restrained rage. The werewolf looked to Lito, and the glare was tinged with wariness, and even respect. He looked up at Isabella in the dropship, and the caution was replaced by irritation.

And then the wolf looked at Alcuard, and he knew the monster meant to kill him.

"Got what?" Lito bellowed irritably, his finger resting on his ear. "What the hell is your plan, you vapid floozy?"

The wolf howled. The sound was a battle cry, as terrifying as hearing the screams of a thousand men about to charge across a field. Alcuard grit his teeth as the wolf leaned forward. He braced himself as the beast's paws ripped up grass and dirt as it surged forward. And he forced himself to hold his position.

The wolf devoured the space in heartbeats, rushing forward with the relentless power of a locomotive, charging with fangs gleaming in the harsh glare of Isabella's searchlight, rushing onward until it leapt into the air.

And in a swish of inky blackness, disappeared.

Alcuard stopped, stunned by his own confusion. And in that silence, he heard a distant yelping sound, like an unhappy dog watching someone else eat a steak. The noise was interrupted rather abruptly by a loud splash.

"Portal," Lito muttered to himself. Alcuard turned to Luca's father just in time to see him strike his forehead with his palm, hard enough to make the older warrior stagger. "Ow, motherfucker, I hit hard," Lito said, and he rubbed at his temples.

"What just happened?" Alcuard asked, as confused as he ever remembered being.

"Portal," Lito replied as if it were an explanation. He turned away and put his finger to his ear. "Love of my life, would you be willing to bring three lawn chairs and the blood transfusion kit down to the beach?"

There was a pause in the conversation where Lito nodded his head. "Yeah, that last smack you heard was me facepalming. Cannot believe I never thought of that."

There was another, shorter pause. "Meet you at the beach, love."

Lito turned to Alcuard and gestured with his thumb down the hill. "Come on. Seems our work night's finished."

"What do you mean?" Alcuard asked, the stupefying aspect of his confusion fading. His own ignorance was beginning to be slightly irksome, and his host appeared to be reluctant to explain much of anything.

"No point in telling you. It'll ruin the joke," Lito said as he stared marching down the hill.

Alcuard follows, through the dense forest, through the luminous moonlight. He follows a man who only minutes ago had been tense, alert, almost set alight with the thrilling horror of fighting death. To see Lito Cadego now strolling through the woods as if there were nothing in the dangerous left in the world was uniquely disquieting.