I saw, through the bouncer who was still guarding the door, no less than two police squad-cars roll up outside, followed by the lovingly-nicknamed “meat wagon”. Cops. I supposed it was a little overconfident to assume that I could take over a public space and not have cops show up, but I figured I would at least have the day before any missing persons reports started going out.

Another car rolled up outside, the armoured van that the Society had first picked me up in, and a whole squad of people strode out. Copper was taking the lead, wearing his usual blue bomber jacket over a flak vest, followed quickly by Sand, Flint, then more than six other men and women I didn't recognize. But it was pretty obvious they were other Society operatives. Every single one of them strapped with weapons and armour.

Alright, I could do this. Grey didn't want people following, all I needed to do was to make sure they were in no fit state to follow anybody. Let them in at first, pretend to be nice and diplomatic, then I could give them the shock of a lifetime.

“Stand down. Let them in.” I instructed the bouncer. “Then run as soon as it starts.”

The bouncer did as he was told, unlocking the door and pushing it open without a word, motioning for the group to head on inside.

Copper stayed outside, coordinating the cops in forming a perimeter around the building and Sand led the assault team right through the front door. I positioned myself just a few feet in front of the bar, ready to meet them. One of the cops grabbed the bouncer from the side and cuffed him, two more grabbing him and dragging him into the back of the meat-wagon. Shame, that cut down on my available intel, but I could easily break him out as soon as I was done getting everyone else out of the way.

I braced myself, almost holding my breath. I could hear movement, but not quite enough to help me pin down what was going on. Then the windows exploded.

Small, focussed charges turned the plate glass into showers of powder, opening a path for the members of the assault team to enter and immediately form three-quarters of a circle around me. Sand entered directly in front of me, as soon as she had eyes on me, before even the dust had settled, her revolver boomed, the shot slammed into my forehead and whipped my head back, my back hitting the corner of the bar.

Okay, diplomacy was out, ripping and tearing was in.

I planted my feet in the corner between the floor and the vertical surface of the bar, curling my legs in, spread my wings as wide as they could go, and launched myself for Sand.

A blunt, invisible force hit my right wing and upset my flight just enough that I had to pull back to avoid crashing into the floor, hitting the wall just above the door the team had come in by. My claws sank into the limestone like it was made of foam. Other claws carved through my boots from the impact, shredding the cheap, aged material into tatters. Below me, the assault team scattered into a wide formation below me, guns trained up but not firing. My guess was they finally learned their lesson about bringing a gun to a monster fight.

I planted my taloned feet, yanked my hands free and let myself drop and hit the floor at a slight angle, something in my legs buckled, forcing me onto all fours. My leg now had a second kink in it, bending sharply like a dog, there was no way I could balance properly balancing upright now. What surprised me what just how natural it felt, managed to spread my weight between my arms and legs...well I supposed they were all legs now.

“Pin him down!” A voice snapped me back into the action and tore up the smooth tiled floor before they could act on their plan, hurling myself at full speed towards one of the Society operatives that had his back to me while he ran for cover. I pounced onto his back and started raking at him, the heavy fibres of his armoured vest tangled my claws and gave him enough of a chance to raise his forearm and block my elongated maw from closing around his head with his metal-plated sleeve. It stopped me from tearing his arm off at the elbow but didn't stop me from dislocating it with a stomach-sinking pop. The taste of blood filled my mouth and set every nerve in my body on fire. I could hear the man's heart hammering in his chest, one hundred and ten beats per minute, type O, healthy if a little too heavy on salts.

Flint slammed claws-first into the side of my head and pried my jaws off his comrade. I reared up onto my hind legs and grabbed the bird by his middle, pinning his back to the wall. Two long, angled horns, jagged to the point of serration, had grown from just below the base of my ears. They followed along with my jawline and came to a point about a foot ahead of my nose.

Both me and Flint howled when I gored him, him in pain and me in triumph. I had him pinned to the wall, held tight in my front legs pulling down and dragging my tusks upward through his lower chest.

I was probably one good twist away from ripping the bastard in two when a wall ran into me at ninety miles-per-hour. My whole body was forced backwards and I barely had a moment to appreciate the two gaping holes and the feathers already shining slick with blood before a vat of boiling acid was poured down my side, or rather flank now, I assume.

I lost my balance and tumbled over an errant bar-stool, kicking out my hind leg at whatever had burned me, tagging Sand across the shin as she jumped back. She held a knife in her left hand, pistol in the right. I recognized the blade and mentally kicked myself. It was Absher's knife, or rather just the blade of it quickly welded onto a fresh aluminium handle, it wasn't great, but it held well enough to draw blood. Blood that was running down my side from a rent in my scales.

Sand was good, she had managed to stop me from killing Flint with a single action, that meant she needed to go first. If I couldn't kill her, she was still human despite everything else and I could hobble her easily enough.

I got back up onto all fours and went low this time, snapping at Sand's leg like a hungry 'gator. I felt a push of invisible power against my head, trying to redirect my jaws away. Sand was strong and that invisible push had a lot of clout behind it, but all that was for nothing if you can't get the right angle on somebody who has the weight advantage.

I clamped down on Sand's calf and yanked her feet out from under her. She yelled with surprise and pain, instinctively kicking and swinging the knife at my head. I managed to get a few good gulps of blood before Sand's wild swinging came a little too close to my eye. I pulled back, aided by another of Sand's telekinetic shoves, rearing up for one good slam that would crush the prone woman's chest.

Another operative joined the dogpile, a blonde woman with a huge Viking-style round shield and matching sword stood astride over Sand blocked my crashing forelegs. If we weren't trying to kill each other I probably would have been impressed that she had just stopped my entire body-weight whole. I transferred all my weight to my right foreleg and bared down, the shield-woman grit her teeth and put her other arm into her push, with all her weight against mine all I had to do was shift my angle slightly. Her upper body twisted with my right foreleg and my left swung in behind her guard.

Glass broke on my scales and a burning cold splashed over the wound in my side, scorching me down to my bones, the muscles in my hind leg shuddered with the pain and my left foreleg halted just short of the shield-womans throat, giving her the chance to duck her head and free her shield from my grip. She shoved the buckle of the shield under my pecs and pushed for all she was worth, bellowing something incoherent. She was a lot stronger than she looked, and she looked damn strong. She leveraged my entire bodyweight upwards and launched, throwing me a good few feet up into the air, my upper half started to tumble backwards and forced me to spread out my wings to keep me steady.

My hind-legs landed first against one of the heavy wooden tables, the momentum of the launch combined with the downward force of my wings sent it arcing backwards, impacting with the operative directly behind me with the satisfying sound of all the air being driven from a person's chest.