Disclaimer: Shocking, but none of the characters are mine. I know y'all were confused there for a second. None. Nada. Zip. Zero. That Joss Whedon guy owns them along with WB, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy Productions, UPN and 20th Century Fox. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is gained. Anita Blake and her buddies belong to Laurell K. Hamilton.
It had been three years since she jumped. Three years since the electric blue surge that pulled her apart had knit her back together in a new world. Waking naked and bruised, the stone chair she was draped over raised goose-bumps everywhere. Body shivering from pain, and... something else. Energy moved in waves, umbrage surging thick like warm water. She was drowning in it. And, as she gazed at the crowd surrounding the stone platform, she watched as one of them looked up at the full moon and howled.
Looked like she wasn't in Kansas anymore.
Pushing up on hands and knees, she felt a feral power similar to her own cut through the dark. He’d stood between her and his pack that night. He thought to keep her safe. Sweet, kind and confused, he stood between The Slayer and a fight. The only thing that kept her from ripping his throat out was the realization that no one had ever offered her protection before.
Weak and trembling, she rose ready for damage – hers and theirs – when he stepped between them. For a reason that escaped her, she let him.