The alley ran between the sides of two large brick buildings and connected to a road on each side. On one side it met up with Main Street, busy during the day. The other led to 8th street, a dark and shady part of down town. Lurking in the shadows, the alley was typically dark, especially at night, and by now it was around eight o'clock. Half an hour till her curfew. Tory Brennan knew she should head home, but something stopped her. She heard faint, muffled cries coming from down the alley. Figuring she had been in more dangerous situations, she peeked around the corner and saw a boy pinned up against one of the brick walls. Another boy twice his size held him there, throwing punches at his helpless victim.

Oh my god, oh my god, Tory thought. I have to do something. Her heart started pounding twenty miles an hour. She felt anger bubbling up inside her. An undeniable urge overcame her, but she took a deep breath. Calm down, she thought. Not now, not here. But she had to do something, and quick. A few cars drove past on Main Street, but there was no one walking down the streets this late at night that could help her. Tory reached inside her pocket for her cell phone and cursed under her breath when she realized she had forgotten it at home.

She started to panic. She couldn't get help, and she felt helpless herself. She couldn't exactly just charge in there and save the boy. Though she could probably knock out the larger one, it was too risky.

A sharp cry rang out and drew Tory's attention back to the scene. The smaller boy was clenching his gut, keeling over in pain. But the thug wasn't finished. He wound back his fist and drove it into the boy's jaw. Tory saw something seep out of the boy's mouth. It was blood.

That was it. She SNAPPED.

Fire rushed through Tory's veins and filled her eyes. Suddenly the world became very clear and sharp, like every detail had razor edges. She looked at the boy. He was like a lost pup that needed protection. And the thug was the predator. One thought rang through Tory's head: protect packmate.

Tory leapt into action. She tackled the smaller boy out of the way of another incoming blow, barely dodging the punch herself. For a second the thug looked confused. He paused, giving Tory a moment to sneak a glance at the other boy.

"RUN!" she shouted. The child was frozen in fear. Tory turned back to the brute just in time to dodge another blow. He swung again, but her canine reflexes let her easily side step, and he missed by almost a foot.

The thug's face reddened—probably partially from anger and partially from embarrassment. "Who the he** are you?" he yelled. "This doesn't concern you! Get out of here!"

"No!" cried Tory, standing protectively in front of the smaller boy. "Leave him alone!"

The thug clenched his jaw. "Fine! If you don't leave, I'll have to go through you too!" He raised his fist to throw another punch, but he never got the chance. Because that's when Tory's real instincts kicked in. She lunged, and for a few seconds the whole world seemed to turn upside down. The next thing she knew, she was on top of him, with one hand pinning down his throat to the ground and the other poised above his head like a claw ready to strike. She was seething, her face stuck in a snarl.

"I said, LEAVE… HIM… ALONE."

The tough thug looked up at her with a mixture of awe and shock, but mostly raw fear. It also appeared to be the first time he noticed her glowing eyes. "What the-?" he said, his voice trailing off.

Tory's ears pricked. She heard the hurried, light footsteps of a child. A quick glance over her shoulder and she saw the boy disappear beyond the corner of the alley. She waited until she couldn't hear the footsteps anymore and then she counted silently to fifteen, just to be safe. She finally turned back to the thug, still held in place by her powerful grip.

"On the count of three, I will let you go," she said slowly. "But if you try to pull anything, I will personally knock the living daylights out of you." The guy just nodded. "1… 2… 3." She let go of him and slowly stood up. The thug picked himself up off the ground and paused for a moment, as if reconsidering his decision. Then he quickly made up his mind and ran down the opposite way the boy had escaped.

SNUP.

Tory felt her senses fade back to normal. She was glad the boy had left, because she wasn't sure how much longer the flare would have lasted. She barely had time to catch her breath before she heard something. Even without enhanced hearing, she could hear the far off wail of a police car.

Crap. Someone must have spotted the fight and called the cops. Tory was pretty sure it had been too dark for either boy to have seen her face, but there was no sense it sticking around and getting caught. Silently, she slipped into the shadows and quickly made her way back to the island bridge. She wasted no time slipping into the house and jumping into bed, eager to get some rest. I think that was enough excitement for one night, Tory thought as she drifted off to sleep.