Blood Creek Beast

by Jay Barnson

Lisbet nodded. “We’ve shot several of them, but they are well protected. Those bulletproof vests you spoke of?”

  “Maybe. I think they also have healing potions.”

  “Blast.” Lisbet calmed her voice. “Assume enemy has healing magic. And remember their vests are armored. Crenshaw, four of them are breaking away and running south.” More gunshots sounded. Lisbet winced. “Owen, I think Sergeant Crenshaw has been grievously injured, perhaps killed, and Wardens Dougherty and Church are also badly wounded.”

  Owen turned his attention from the men on the ground. “Where? I can get to them.”

  “No. Not until Hershel secures the ridge.”

  “What about the four who are getting away?”

  “They are being covered by the two on the ridge. I believe they are all that are left.”

  “Can you see where they are?” Jessabelle asked.

  “For now. One of them is a witch.”

  “Can you direct me to them?”

  “Young lady, there are four of them. You are no Warden and in no state to pursue them...”

  Before she’d finished, Jessabelle was the panther. Lisbet sighed. “There are four of them. Very well, if I may cut some tiny amount of your fur...” The woman took a knife and gingerly pulled a few hairs of Jessabelle’s fur above the neck, and cut the tips free. She spoke some words of a song, and Jessabelle heard her words in her mind as well as in her ears.

  “Go now,” Lisbet said. “I shall direct you. All you need to do is follow them, and keep them in your view, and I shall see them. You should consider the witch the most dangerous.”

  Jessabelle ran off in the direction indicated, and Lisbet corrected her course. Lisbet could no longer detect the enemy, but Jessabelle could smell them. They smelled different from the forest. Different and yet familiar. They smelled of the Coven’s headquarters that had imprisoned her. They smelled of gunpowder and synthetic fabric and the modern world. And they smelled like...

  She spotted them. Three of them jogging forward at a pace Jessabelle-the-panther could easily exceed. She pursued them from a safe distance. The shortest of the figures didn’t carry a rifle and was not-quite obviously female. She had a handgun holstered on her hip. She glanced toward Jessabelle, and Jessabelle recognized Min, the witch. The Coven had punished her by sending her Around the Bend after all.

  “Be careful!” Lisbet’s voice came into her head. “There were four of them. Where did the fourth go?”

  It wasn’t Lisbet’s voice that gave Jessabelle the warning she felt on the back of her feline neck. She sensed the incoming attack and leaped away before the great cat pounced on her. The jaguar roared as it struck the leafy slope where she had just been standing. It was twice her size, and its powerful fangs and jaws set off every nerve in her animal form. This was no contest. She had become the prey.

  The jaguar’s spots were recognizable even in the dim light before sunrise. Leon attacked without mercy, a deadly killing machine that wouldn’t stop until she lay dead between his powerful jaws. He bore a spiked collar around his neck, one that Jessabelle recognized from their early morning flight from the trailer. She’d last seen it around the throat of the dwayyo.

  Jessabelle fled, pursued by the larger cat. Her smaller size gave her a slight advantage in the rough terrain, but her shoulder throbbed. Had she reopened the wound? Even if not, the pain slowed her. Sooner or later, the jaguar would catch her.

  Lisbet’s voice came to her mind. “Let it chase you this way. We may be able to shoot it!”

  It was tempting. The jaguar might hurt or kill one of the Wardens or Lisbet, but maybe Owen could heal them. Or not. Or maybe it would hurt Owen.

  Not it, she reminded herself. He. This was Leon. Her father’s friend and the man who had helped her escape from the Coven twice and sacrificed himself to them so she could go free. He might be under Min’s control, but he was still Leon. Jessabelle had been under such a spell just a few weeks ago and had flatly denied truths. Would Min allow Leon to kill Jessabelle?

  Yes, if it came down to Jessabelle or Leon, Min would let Jessabelle die, without question. Jessabelle couldn’t even blame her. Likewise, the Wardens wouldn’t hesitate to kill him first and ask questions later. Min was well guarded. Whatever happened in the next few moments, it would come down to Jessabelle against Leon, away from any of the others.

  Jessabelle whirled in mid-run and charged the jaguar. The move surprised him, but not so much as to leave him defenseless. One paw struck, claws tearing down her side, but she twisted out of the reach of his deadly fangs. She grabbed hold of the collar with teeth and claw, ignoring the pain from the spikes biting into her flesh. Leon rolled to bring his rear paws against her. He raked her belly, stripping flesh and fur, before finally gaining leverage to push her away.

  Her grip held. Industrial-strength snaps and seams tore away as he pushed, and the collar came away with her. Her flesh burned like fire in a dozen places, and she felt her strength ebbing by the moment. Victory hadn’t come a moment too soon.

  He sprang at her again, fangs opening over her head. So it hadn’t been the collar after all. At least she’d tried.

  The blow never landed. He transformed into Leon-the-man over her and cried out. “Change, Jessabelle! Change!”

  She tried. It was so hard, and she was so tired, but she tried. The pain burned hotter, and her vision darkened into a narrow tunnel. Except for the desperation in Leon’s voice, she would have quit. It hurt too much. She pushed and after what seemed like hours she became Jessabelle-the-girl once more. She screamed as the pain all over her body struck her nerves all at once. The world went black.

  That night, Delcina and Jack set up a fireless camp in the woods while Zeke, the only person not likely to be recognized, rode to Dane’s Point to scout it out. They were poorly equipped to camp, but Delcina finally nodded off while wrapped in a blanket. Jack sat twenty feet away, leaning up against a tree, futilely peering into the impenetrable darkness in the direction of the road.

  He’d never felt more exhausted, but couldn’t imagine sleeping. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rumela shot with poisoned crossbow bolts, Rumela saving his life one more time, and Rumela dying beside him. Even the death of his childhood friend at the claws of the snallygaster hadn’t hit him as hard as this. Perhaps it was because he was tired, or because she’d saved his life, or perhaps it was because he kept thinking of things he could have done differently that might have prevented her murder.

  His sobs surprised him. They died as quickly as they appeared, replaced by rapid breathing as he wiped his tears with the heel of his hand. He took a deep breath to get himself under control and whispered, “It ain’t fair.”

  A moment later, a hand on his shoulder startled him. “It’s just me,” Delcina said quietly.

  Jack sniffed. “I’m sorry. I woke you up.”

  Taking a seat beside him, she took hold of his arm and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “No. I wasn’t really sleeping. Not for lack of trying.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “I’m so very sorry. I liked Rumela. She had more honor, loyalty, and bravery than far too many people I thought I knew my whole life.”

  “I shouldn’t be like this. You’re the one who lost a father. And so many others.”

  “Grief doesn’t have a pecking order, Jack.” She lowered her head, still pushing her face against his arm. “My father told me that when my mother died. I think he was trying to explain to me that no matter your station in life, we all feel grief. I always took it to apply to whomever we’ve lost, too.”

  Jack put his arm around her shoulders. It seemed like the thing to do. “I’m sorry. I feel like I made it worse by showing up.”

  She lifted her head and shook it. “Don’t say that, Jack. Don’t believe it for a second. Taliel had a plan from the beginning. You arriving when you did meant that I survived, and now we have a fighting chance to stop her. Together.”

  “We’re in this together. I don’t know if I’ll be much help, but I’l
l be there.”

  He couldn’t tell if she smiled or not in the darkness, but she turned to look at him. Their faces drew nearer and suddenly their lips were touching. As they kissed, she wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her closer.

  It was one of the worst days of his life, but for those few seconds, his heart soared.

  Before she pulled away, he felt her cold tears touch his cheek. She wiped her face and leaned against him. “Tomorrow, we begin the fight. Tomorrow, I have to be the princess again. Tonight, I want to pretend none of this happened. Just for a few hours. Let’s pretend we’re just kids. Not royalty, not nobility, just normal kids.”

  “That’s all I am.”

  “You’re more than that. So much more.” She stretched, rolled over, and adjusted the blanket around her. Leaning back against him, she stared out into the darkness, her hair against his chin. He wrapped his arms around her, and she sighed. “Lie to me, Jack.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s pretend we’re escaping back to your world. We’re going to go on those—what did you call them? Dates? Tell me what we’ll do.”

  Jack bit his lip. It really wouldn’t be a lie. Somehow, they’d win. They’d defeat Thadeus, Hothlurian, or whatever that son of a bitch in the white suit was called. And he’d take Delcina on a proper date. He had no idea what a proper date entailed, but he supposed this was as good a time as any to try out ideas. “Ever been fishing?”

  She hesitated. That might not have been the suggestion she had imagined. “Like, with nets? I can’t say I have.”

  “With fishing rods. We can go out early in the morning when the fish are biting. Then after that, we’ll take what we catch home and cook ‘em up. We can have ourselves a little fish fry. Maybe invite some friends.”

  “That sounds... wonderful, actually,” she said with real warmth. “A lovely day.”

  “Yeah. After that, we finish up the evening by watching a movie on TV.”

  “What’s that?”

  Somewhere in the middle of his explanation of movies and a short list of the ones he wanted to share with her, Delcina finally fell asleep.

  Dane’s Point was not the place Jack would have chosen to prepare for war. He still resented the town for how the people had treated Rumela, a feeling made all the more acute by her death. Few recognized him without his fearsome companion. For that matter, when he looked at his reflection to shave, Jack wasn’t sure he recognized himself. The man in the mirror seemed more angular, with harder eyes and a haggard face. It was probably a trick of the mirror. They didn’t make them as good in Around the Bend as they did back home.

  Regardless of how he felt about the people, Dane’s Point had military virtues, according to Bachan. The captain had arrived with a many members of the now-outlaw Royal Guard and a contingent of soldiers two days behind Jack’s group. Bachan claimed the town stood on defensible terrain, at a non-magical crossroads, with water and resources to last a protracted campaign. Most importantly, it protected the best route to Hobbfield and, ultimately, the crossroads that were Taliel’s goal.

  In the four days since Bachan’s arrival, the town had been a whirlwind of activity and military preparations. Jack had been invited to several planning meetings, but had understood little of them. Still a country boy at heart, he joined the soldiers and guardsmen to help build fortifications, and in return they instructed him on how to fight.

  A knock came at his door. He and Zeke shared living quarters in a small, unused barn. Delcina had taken residence inside a widow’s home. They had paid for it all with money the general store owner was slowly repaying Jack. Jack amused himself and confused Zeke by calling it his “first apartment.” Jack figured he could have done worse. Sure, there was no indoor plumbing, and his bed consisted of dry straw packed under a sheet, but he’d stayed in far worse locations over the last month.

  Jack opened the side door. Delcina stood there, looking impossibly more beautiful in her simple peasant blouse and red cotton skirt. Of course, the sword belted around her waist and the Royal Guardsman hovering behind her was something of a give-away that she wasn’t a simple farmer’s daughter. That, and the somber look of worry and duty in her ice-blue eyes.

  “Your highness,” Jack said, opening the door wider. “Won’t you come in?”

  “I have news, Mister Parsons,” she said, stepping inside. She turned immediately to the guardsman behind her. “Alex, please stand guard outside the door. The Hero of the Kingdom is perfectly capable of keeping me safe from danger within these walls.”

  The guard protested. “But your highness, do you think it wise to...”

  She closed the door on him and turned to Jack. Her face broke out into a smile, and they embraced. Jack planted a kiss on her lips, which she returned with equal eagerness. When they broke away, she giggled. “It’s getting harder to get away with this with the arrival of the new troops.”

  Jack nodded. “‘Specially with folks thinking we’re still betrothed or whatever. They watch me like a hawk.”

  “So what are we, Jack?” she asked playfully.

  “I reckon the technical term is ‘in deep shit.’ I s’pose back home they’d say we were dating. Not that we’re going to get the chance to date anytime soon.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “When this is over, we’ll have another date, I promise. At least once more in the castle garden when we take it back. Maybe we’ll even go fishing.” Her face grew somber again. “I cannot stay long, and I really do bring news. Fighting has broken out in Sanguine. While that pins down the queen, it also means a lot of people are dying. I’m afraid those who have thrown their support behind me are in the minority and receiving the worst of the casualties. However, we are being joined by Wardens.”

  Jack thought of the beautiful palace, converted into its original purpose as a fortress. A fortress standing against the people who were willing to fight and die for Delcina. He chewed at his lower lip. This wasn’t the adventure he’d expected at all. Regardless of what he’d expected, this was happening now, and they had decided, like him, that someone had to take a stand. He felt heartsick. He looked back at Delcina and said, “These Wardens are the folks who can protect the crossroads, right?”

  She dropped her arm. “That’s part of their mandate. They are sort of an international army tasked to prevent Hothlurian from returning.” She motioned to the north. “Some forces from the Citadel just arrived. They fought off an incursion from your world, and they are taking our claim that the queen is Lilah in disguise seriously.”

  “You reckon they can make anyone else believe that, too?”

  Delcina shrugged. “I hope so. Eventually. Jack—there is a man from your world with them.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “I don’t know. Bachan is already talking to him, but you and I should meet with him too.”

  Jack belted on his sword and dagger. He had grown accustomed to wearing them. Delcina extended her hand to him. He took it and stood close to her. They kissed once more, briefly, and Jack squeezed her hand. Then they stepped apart, and Jack opened the door for Delcina. She resumed her dignified look, holding her head high, but Jack knew that the return of her worried expression was not just an act. He felt it, too. He took his position at her right hand, a half-step behind.

  At the north road, a group of people in uniform and their horses were being attended to. Something that resembled an elongated stagecoach with a canvas top sat with blocks around one wheel. A man with close-cropped hair stood just outside a wagon talking animatedly with Bachan. The man wore a Kevlar vest and carried an AR-15 rifle slung over his shoulder and punctuated his words by pointing up the road.

  As they approached, Bachan smiled. “Leon, this is her highness the Princess of Sanguine, and Jack Parsons, Hero of the Kingdom. Jack is from your world, as well.”

  “Is that so? Were you one of the ones Jessabelle was talking about who was guarding the crossroads around here?”

  Jack’s jaw dropped. “Huh? Y
ou know Jessabelle Rose?”

  The man nodded. “Yeah, she’s in the wagon.”

  Jack didn’t offer a word to Bachan, Leon, or the princess before he climbed into the back of the wagon.

  A boy who looked not much older than fourteen—Jack did mental adjustment to peg the kid’s age at around his own or a hair younger—sat on a hard, low bench opposite Jessabelle. Jessabelle was asleep on a mat on the floor of the wagon. While the blanket she rested on was clean, Jack couldn’t help but note the recent bloodstains on the wagon floor beside her.

  “Jessabelle!” Jack said. “Jessabelle, you made it!”

  The boy looked at Jack and shook his head. “She was grievously injured. She’s still unconscious.”

  “Like in a coma?”

  “I’m unsure what you mean, but perhaps. I’ve done everything I know how to do for her. Fortunately, she was able to return to a form where I could better care for her before she lost consciousness. Even so, there’s little more we can do but wait.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was shot, and then fought against Leon when his mind was controlled by the witch. If it weren’t for Jessabelle, we would have never received warning that the Coven was coming. She helped us track them down. After she broke Leon free, he was able to help us defeat the last of them before they got to the portal.”

  Delcina spoke. Jack hadn’t heard her slip into the wagon behind him. “It sounds to me like we have yet another Hero of the Kingdom, and more people from the Dark Lands to whom we owe a debt of gratitude.”

  Jack nodded numbly and looked at the young man. “Do whatever you can for her. Anything you need, just ask. Understand?”

  The boy nodded. “I am, and I will. She’s an amazing young lady.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “She is.”

  Delcina put her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Jack, stay here as long as you need, but we need to have a council of war with Bachan, Sheriff Hodson, the Warden commander, and Captain Eddings.”

  Jack looked back at Delcina and nodded. “This is gonna turn into a full-on war before it’s over, ain’t it?”