long

than in any match he’d ever fought.
Harris backed away, staying just outside the thing’s easy range, and circled around his opponent. Adonis came at him again, swinging a paw as big as a tennis racquet; Harris danced backward, saw how his opponent’s too-energetic swings were pulling him off balance. Another missed slash with those claws, and Harris darted in, planting a hard side kick into Adonis’ gut. He scrambled back before Adonis could recover. Adonis’ mockery of a face twisted in something like pain. So it could be hurt.
Movement in his peripheral vision: the old man was up, his face a mask of anger; he limped in the direction Gaby had fled. But he was moving so slowly there was little chance he’d catch her. At least he wasn’t groping for his pistol.
Adonis slashed again, swinging wide. Harris stepped in, launching the same kick he’d succeeded with a second ago, and saw too late that the Adonis’ maneuver was a feint; as Harris’ heel connected hard with Adonis’ gut, the big thing’s left paw sliced across his kicking leg.
Harris felt fire flash across the back of his thigh, felt claws rip through his flesh as if through cloth. Almost blinded by the sudden pain, he staggered back, away from his opponent. He regained his balance and touched the injury with his hand.
His palm came away covered with blood. The gash was long, maybe deep as well, and probably fatal if he stood around bleeding while he fought the thing that had made it.
As his vision cleared, he saw that he’d backed onto the circle of stones, and that his kick had actually taken Adonis off its feet again.
Then the world started to change.
Impossibly, the high-rise buildings on the far side of Central Park West began to grow, stretching taller but growing no thinner, curving like bowed legs. Harris gaped at the optical illusion, momentarily forgetting the clawed thing on the ground in front of him. The buildings rose as tall as the Empire State Building, and taller. The trees in the middle distance were growing, too, tall as redwoods.
Adonis stood up in front of him—and oh, God, the thing with the inhuman face was now twice the height of a man, now three times, still growing, and striding closer and closer to the circle of stones, looming over Harris, leering