As I stepped out of Beau’s apartment, shotgun in hand, knives and handgun at my belt, she came to the door, still clutching that sheet to her breasts.  “Take my car,” she said before slapping the keys into my hand and closing the door.  The look on her face would have torn the heart from any other man, but not me.  I couldn’t afford to second guess, to hesitate or think.  I had Sicily to save, and God be damned if anyone dared get in my way.

	Speaking of God, he must be cackling up on high, cause when I got to the garage where her car was parked, her car was quite possibly the sexiest piece of metal I’ve ever seen.  Damn the woman and her fine taste in muscle cars.  I got in, turned it on, and sighed at the roar of the engine starting, the vibrations exciting the monster in me.  Oh yeah.  Now I certainly felt like I was about to gun down too many people to count.

	The drive over to the police station was quiet save for the rain and the roar of the engine.  The streets were empty, so much so that it felt like I was the last person left on the planet.  If only that were true.  I had plenty of time to think on the drive over, to wonder how my life could have gone from a dull, repetitive cycle to this crazy, wacked out mess of a situation.  It wasn’t hard to recall that it was because I’d saved Sicily that night from those three bastards and it struck me then that while I’d saved her then, here I was saving her again.  Damn girl just excited trouble.  That made me laugh…

	I parked in front of the station and got out, sighing to myself as I took the shotgun in hand and made my way up the steps, rain falling cold upon my bare torso, soaking my fur and hair.  I probably looked like a drowned cat… with a gun.  When I arrived at it, I kicked the door open, surprising two officers standing just inside.  One drew his gun and I shot him first, buckshot spraying in a flash of light, tearing through muscle and shattering bone as my gun ate a holes through his chest.

	The second officer jumped back from the other as he grabbed for the nearest thing, proving himself an idiot for not pulling his gun.  I did not savor his death as I unloaded a shell at him, his head exploding viciously from his shoulders to spray the wall, floor and ceiling behind him with blood, bone and thicker things.  The noise of the two shots was thunderous, temporarily deafening me, but I did not wait to regain my hearing.  I rushed forward, padding across the ruined tiles and down one hall.  My guess was that Sicily would be in one of the interrogation rooms or in the chief’s office, if she was even still here.

	A shot rang out, hitting the wall near me and I spun, unloading a shell into the desk behind which an officer hid, his fuzzy canine ears sticking up above where he was, totally giving him away.  As the buck shot tore a spray of splinters out of the desk, the canine dashed from behind the cover, taking advantage of my having to cock my shotgun to chamber a fresh shell.  He was fast, but not faster than me. I shot again, tearing off his feet from the calves down with hot lead.

	He screamed as he lay there, hands shaking as he reached for his shattered shins, blood squirting across the tiles.  I walked over and took out of my handgun, putting a bullet between his eyes before holstering it again.  Sloppy, but no sense wasting another of my limited shotgun shells.  I didn’t plan to take any prisoners.

	From there I made my way deeper into the police station.  From memory, there were at least five officers that raided my apartment, but with a city this size, even if the police were corrupt bastards, there had to be at least five times that number here.  I did a quick count and figured I’d already killed five, three here and two back in that squad car, but none had been the Dalmatian or Doberman that had been there.  They were obviously the ring leaders of that shit fest, so to find and kill them was my main objection.

	The next four officers died much cleaner, taking a single shell each, forcing me to stop and reload, shoving shells into the feed as I took cover behind a wall in a small office.  There was no telling what the office was actually for, but I didn’t stop to think about it.  As soon as I had a fresh shell chambered, I left my hiding hole and nearly walked right into another officer. He looked at me startled, had his gun swinging towards me to take a shot, but I slammed the butt of my shotgun into his face, blood splattering as I broke his jaw.  He stumbled back, gun firing but hitting the wall, and I swung my gun around, tearing a hole through his chest, blood splattering back against me as I did.

	I quickly wiped my face against my bicep to get the blood out of my eyes only to hear another shot ring out and feel the bite of a bullet eating into my opposite shoulder.  I grit my teeth as I jumped back and took aim, firing my gun and eviscerating him as the spray tore open his stomach.  He died likely from the shook of seeing his intestines spilling out upon the floor, because he looked down then fell back.  As I got up, I clenched my teeth and took a look at my shoulder, noting that the bullet had passed right through, or at least it certainly hurt like it had.

	Resisting the urge to kick the downed officer, I checked his pulse, finding him truly dead, then stood again and continued down the hall.  I checked every office I walked passed, looking for signs of Sicily or at least more officers.  Seeing none, I continued and ascended the staircase at the end of the hall a few steps before hearing someone shout that I was coming. I growled and raced up the stairs, immediately firing a shot the second I hit the top of them, the buckshot ripping through the plaster of the wall it hit, a scream of pain from the other side telling me I hit someone.

	Against the wall I went and fired at an angle through the doorway, hitting an officer that had been standing there taking aim at me.  He’d already been bloody, so I assume it had been the guy next to him that appeared next that I’d first hit.  I took him down with another unceremonious shot.  I shoved another few shells into the feed of my gun before coming out into the hall, not seeing anyone.  Thirteen were dead now, which left a good twelve alive, if they were all here in the building.  They better be. I’d hate to have to hunt them down after this.

	As I came up the hall, I realized it was about to open up into a large cubical like area, so I stopped, thankfully too cause the started raining bullets in my direction, missing me barely.  From the individual shots, there could have been at least five in that room but I assumed seven just to be safe.  I shoved another two rounds into my gun, the last shells I had, and sighed.  Six shots to take out seven people.  This was going to be sticky.

	When the shots stopped, I instantly left my cover, heading towards what looked to be another office for more cover, firing as I did.  I got lucky and took out two officers during this run, a quick count in the rush of things proving that I had assumed right.  Five guys left, three shots, a handgun with twenty six bullets over two clips, and three knives.  I was certainly armed enough to kill them.  As I took cover behind a desk I knocked over, I struggled to catch my breath, only realizing then that I’d taken a shot to my left side.  “Son of a bitch,” I growled before popping out of cover and firing at a guy that was a hell of a lot closer than I had expected.  His canid face contorted with pain as his arm disintegrated in a spray of bloody hell and my second shot erased that look forever as I blew his head from his shoulders.

	I tried to chamber the last shell, only for the gun to jam, ridiculously because it had made it this far only to let me down at the last second.  I tossed the shotgun aside then drew my Browning Hi-Power and a knife.  Here goes nothing…  I jumped over the desk and out into the cubicle area, quickly firing as and jumping to the side as they popped out from behind their own cover, taking out one with a bullet through his eye and another with a shot to the shoulder.  I rolled to my feet and fired again, gritting my teeth as a bullet cut my cheek but that did not alter my aim as my own bullets killed the last two officers standing.  That just left me and shoulder guy.

	I stood and wiped my cheek against my shoulder, wincing in pain as I made my way over, finding the guy I’d shot trying to hold his gun in his weak hand, his right arm useless from my bullet.  I dispatched him without mercy, a bullet through his brain to send him to sleep forever.  “Lucky number seven,” I muttered, voicing how many were left.  It bothered me that I hadn’t found the interrogation rooms yet, but I figured the chief’s office would be closer.

	Sure enough I found it and the three guys waiting inside. I threw my knife, hitting one man in the heart while I moved and fired at the other two, killing them.  Four bastards left but still, none were those two fuckers from the apartment.  Worry ate at me as I ejected the empty clip from my handgun and slid a fresh one in.  I was using up too many bullets.  I did not want to run out before finding those shits.  I grabbed one of the dead men’s guns, checked its clip before sighing as I put it into my holster and drew my second knife.  It would do as a backup.

	I frowned as I left the chief’s office.  It bugged me that the chief wasn’t here, nor that I couldn’t find the interrogation rooms.  I hoped the bastard wasn’t in the building as I searched the second floor, finding neither signs of Sicily nor the last few officers.  I jogged down the stairs again and searched the first floor again, discovering another set of stairs, these going down.  I gave a small smile as I took those stairs quickly then braced myself against the wall.  It was eerie quiet down here, and dark, and damp.

	I used the mirrored blade of my knife to get a look down the hall, seeing it empty and devoid of signs of life.  I left cover and went down the hall, turning the corner and seeing at the far end a room with the lights on.  I made my way towards it and looked in through the cracked door, seeing Sicily on the floor, being raped by three men, one of them being the Dalmatian.  Where the hell was the Doberman?  I heard a gun click then and I spun and ducked, the shot from his gun loud in the silence, but even louder than that was his scream of pain as I slammed the knife into his groin and dragged up, gutting him.

	As he fell to the floor, the three other men burst from the room and I gunned the surprised bastards down, reveling in the sight of their death.  With that finally done, I made my way into the room, quickly taking stock as I padded over to Sicily.  The room was bright, but dirty, and smelled of sex, blood and cum.  Sicily herself was naked and covered in the slimy filth, but I had nothing to clean her with.  I checked her pulse first, so unmoving and unresponsive she was, finding her indeed alive.  There was blood between her legs and I wrinkled my nose as rage burned in me.  But there was no one to direct that anger at.  I’d killed all those involved…  No, only the officers.  The chief was still alive, though clearly not in the building.

	I tossed away the back-up gun then holstered my Browning Hi-Power before sheathing my knife.  Only then did I tenderly pick the tiny snow bunny up and cradle her against my chest, hugging her gently.  She gave no indication that she knew anything was happening, and that worried me as I carried her from the building and out into Beau’s car, setting her down into the passenger seat.  I found a blanket in the trunk and wrapped her up in it before closing her door and settling into the driver’s seat.  I’d buckled her up but she looked like a limp rag doll.  Worried about her, I drove the two of us back to Beau’s apartment, my own unfit to live in…