by M. J. Caan
She watched her friend as she moved to the center of the living room and brought her hands together before her, eyes closed. To Torie it looked like she was praying, except that the prayer was accompanied by intricate finger interlocking and hand motions as Jasmin weaved her spell.
“There,” Jasmin said, looking up. “I have invoked the guardians of the four corners to protect your home. It should be proof against whatever might come prowling around looking to start trouble. Now, one last thing.” She walked over to the coffee table and picked up the white gem. “I want you to keep this one on you at all times.”
“Thanks, Jasmin, but I can’t make it work. It won’t respond to my magic.”
“That’s okay. I already enchanted it. It will work almost the way the wards around your house do. If you’re in trouble or distressed, it will fire a bolt of force magic. Think of it as a mystical snub-nosed .38 special.”
Torie eyed the gem suspiciously. “I don’t like guns, and I don’t know if I should be impressed or scared that you know so much about them.”
“Hey, growing up, guns weren’t just for protection. There were plenty of times we wouldn’t have eaten if it weren’t for my dad’s rifle.”
Torie didn’t speak, just regarded her friend with admiration. Her own upbringing had not been so severe. Her mother had always provided a nice life for her. Not the type she had come to know with her ex-husband of course, but certainly a far cry from what Jasmin had experienced. Thinking of her mother shot a dagger of pain through her heart. She glanced at the green gem as thoughts flashed through her mind. Maybe…
“So,” said Jasmin. “Are you going to keep the white gem with you? At all times?”
Torie snapped out of her reverie. “Yes. And thank you. For everything you’re doing.”
She meant that. She had never known friends like the kind she had made here in Singing Falls. She truly believed they would do anything for her; and with or without magic, she knew she would do anything for them as well.
“Okay then,” said Jasmin. “Good to know. Now, it’s afternoon, so what say we break out some cocktails? A girl gets thirsty with all the soul-sharing and whatnot.”
Torie laughed and headed for the kitchen, making her way to the wood and glass liquor cabinet that sat in the far corner of the space.
Just then, Jasmin’s phone beeped twice, letting her know someone was texting her. She looked down at it, stopping in her tracks.
“What is it?” asked Torie.
“It’s from Max. He said there’s a vicious fight that’s broken out at Nightshades.”
Torie felt her heart catch in her throat. “Why do I know that name?”
“It’s the bar where humans and supernaturals go to commingle. It’s where Wednesday went to meet the warlock. He’s saying it’s bad.”
Together, they raced out the door. Torie paused long enough to grab the white troll gem and shove it in her pocket. She wasn’t sure it would matter to her, but if she was walking into anything like what happened at the bakery, a gun was better than nothing at all.
5
Nightshades was a rambling, one-story bar-slash-restaurant that squatted at the end of a gravel drive on the outskirts of town. It had a reputation as being a hard hitting, hard drinking dive where supernaturals could congregate with the humans that were brave enough to set foot inside. As the younger kids would say, it was a hook-up bar; one where humans who wanted to get to know the darker side of Singing Falls could go. While it may have been imposing, it was also known to be a fairly quiet spot.
The supernaturals that frequented it felt comfortable because they could be themselves, and the humans that went there never started anything because they understood that in this place, they were on the lowest rung of the food chain. That made the bar Switzerland in the eyes of Singing Falls. It operated under a very simple motto that was written in bold red lettering on a pine board hanging behind the counter: Don’t Start Nothing, Won’t Be Nothing.
When Torie and Jasmin arrived, the scene looked much the same as that at the bakery. Tables had been overturned, bar stools were thrown about, the large mirror behind the bar had been shattered, and there were a considerable number of broken dishes and silverware scattered about the main floor of the space.
There were quite a few shifters and humans alike sitting in various booths around the periphery of the dining area. Some held their heads in their hands, some were lying back in the booths, recovering.
“What the hell happened?” Jasmin said, walking up to Max.
The werewolf stood surveying the damage all around him. A stern look passed over his features as he motioned for her and Torie to follow him to the side of the bar, away from everyone else.
“Was it the same as what happened at the bakery? Just random violence breaking out?” asked Torie.
“Not sure. From what I understand, it was just a normal day here, then an argument broke out between a couple of regulars; then this,” he said.
Torie looked around. The bar had been crowded. “It’s barely after midday. Are people really here drinking at this time?”
Max shrugged. “This place is jumping at all hours. It’s known for weekend brunches believe it or not. Trouble here is rare. And it certainly doesn’t happen in the middle of the day like this.”
“I’ve actually been here for brunch before,” said Jasmin. “This was one of Taylor’s favorite spots. She’d drag me and Fionna here every couple of months. Max is right…no one causes trouble here.”
“What about the staff and owner? Did they say what caused the argument?” asked Torie.
“Apparently it was a fox shifter and a wood elf that got into it. They were seen whispering together at the bar, then their voices started to rise and before you knew it, one hit the other over the head with a beer glass. Then they started tussling…which caused them to knock the beer over on a man sitting next to them. He flew into a rage and just started swinging at everyone. Before he knew it, the whole place was brawling.”
“Everyone?” said Jasmin.
“What do you mean?” replied Max.
“Well, a lot of the furniture that is destroyed are big, heavy pieces. That bench—” she pointed to the wall, “—was ripped loose from the floor where it was bolted down. The jukebox over there used to be against the wall opposite it. That means it was thrown. This was a fight among supernaturals…and it doesn’t look like they were holding back.”
“Okay. And?” he responded.
“Where are the humans?” said Torie, looking around. “Everyone touts this as a meeting place between humans and supernaturals. If an all-out fight broke out, I don’t think the humans would have survived any of this.”
“They wouldn’t have,” said Jasmin. “They ran. I’m betting there were no reports of human injuries, huh?” She turned to Max for confirmation.
Jasmin joined her as they walked around the bar.
“Where were the two who started this sitting?” asked Torie.
“Hold on,” replied Max as he went over to the bar. “Hey, Mica, can you come over for a second?”
They were joined by a young bartender dressed in denim and a tight white sleeveless tee shirt.
“Can you help us out here? The two that started the fight, where were they seated?”
“This way,” she said, escorting them to the very end of the bar. “They were the last two at the end, here.”
“And you’ve seen them in here before?” asked Max.
She nodded. “Yes, typically they are here almost every Friday night, but they sometimes come in during the day as well.”
“And they’ve always tolerated one another?” questioned Jasmin.
“Oh yeah, they’re friends. At least they were.”
Torie walked from the end of the bar to the booth that was closest to it. There, on the table in the booth was a plate with a half-eaten quarter chicken on it, sitting across from a bowl of what looked to be tomato bisque. Two glasses of iced tea sat next to t
he food, undisturbed.
“What is it?” asked Jasmin.
Torie pointed at the meal. “Just like at the bakery. These are just about the only meals that aren’t smashed in the whole bar.” She turned to the young bartender. “Who was sitting here?”
The bartender shrugged. “I don’t know. A woman and some guy I believe.”
Torie looked at Max and nodded. He bent over the booth and sniffed the air.
“Yes, same woman as the one at the bakery. Also, same ‘nothing’ here where her companion sat,” he said.
“Jasmin, this can’t be a coincidence,” Torie muttered. She turned back towards Mica. “Can you describe them?”
“Not really. I mean, they just looked like a couple of humans sitting there. They weren’t drinking so I didn’t pay them much attention.” She turned to go back to cleaning up the mess of broken bottles behind the counter but stopped, turning to face them. “Jimmy might be able to tell you more. He was the server that brought them the meal. He seemed pretty friendly with them…like he knew them.”
“Who’s Jimmy?” said Torie.
“He’s a kid who does dishes and helps bus tables. But he got swept up in the fighting. He’s pretty banged up. He’s out back being tended to by that nurse who showed up to patch everyone up.”
“Glen? She and Fionna must be here,” said Jasmin.
“Thank you, Mica,” said Max. “You’ve got a nasty cut on your arm there. Better go get it checked.”
She laughed and smiled coyly at the werewolf. “Thanks. But I’ll heal. Maybe it will leave a cute scar I can show you sometime.” She turned on her heels and headed back to her work.
“Haven’t you learned your lesson with those lynx shifters?”
They turned to see Elric walk into the bar. His eyes landed on Torie and he nodded to her, smiling.
“Their meow isn’t as bad as their scratch,” said Max, shaking hands with his old friend.
“Elric,” said Torie, moving to stand next to him. “How did you know what was going on here?”
“Everyone in town knows. Well, that and I asked Max here to keep me in the loop whenever something like this happened.”
Torie shot the sheriff a look, one that he didn’t meet. Whatever his reasoning for keeping Elric appraised, she was thankful.
“I mean, if you’d rather I not be here…” Elric started.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Torie. “It’s a free town after all.”
Why did she say that? She silently cursed herself. She was acting like a schoolgirl who was feeling ignored by the football captain she had a crush on.
“Finally. The gang’s all here,” came a voice from one of the booths on the opposite side of the bar.
Everyone looked over as a figure stood up out of the bar and turned to face them. It was a woman, probably in her early twenties, tall and lithe of build. She moved like a dancer as she approached them. She wore leather pants and a matching leather jacket. Her dark skin was highlighted by the white tee shirt that left her abdomen exposed. She had a cigarette in one hand which she casually flicked to the side.
“Who are you?” demanded Torie.
“Not important,” she responded. “But I was starting to think he wasn’t going to show up.” She nodded in Elric’s direction.
“Do you know him?” said Torie.
“No. But I need both of them. So, if you two ladies could move to the side, I have work to do.” One hand snaked to her waist where she withdrew a foot-long dagger from a sheathe strapped to her thigh. “You there; Max. I almost took you out at that weird little coffee shop everyone seems to love. But then I thought if I killed you, the other one might go on the run.” She looked from Max to Elric, her hazel eyes sharp and focused. “And I need both your pelts for the payday.”
Elric and Max looked at one another.
“A hunter,” Max said, turning his attention back to the girl. “Get them out of here, Elric.”
He moved faster than the witches could follow, sprinting towards the young woman, shifting into his wolf form just as he reached her. He leapt upward, meaning to take her down and pin her beneath his considerable weight. But his attack had been anticipated, and the young woman reached out, her speed matching his, as she grabbed a handful of his hide. Pivoting on her hind foot, she threw the wolf behind her, sending his body crashing through two booths and into a wall with a sickening crunch.
“Hey!” came a voice from behind the bar.
Mica leapt over the counter and charged the woman. She growled as she approached, reaching for the hunter with blinding speed.
The hunter caught her wrist mid-strike, holding the lynx shifter aloft with one hand.
“Really?” said the hunter. “Are you really trying to stop me?” She shot her free hand forward, punching Mica in the chest and sending her body rocketing across the bar.
A growl, followed by a deep roar, shook the building. Max had regained his feet and was circling the hunter. The hair along the ridge of his back stood stiff and his fangs glistened as he took the full measure of the woman.
“Torie, Jasmin, you have to get out of here. Now,” said Elric. He began to shift into his hybrid form, his limbs elongating as his face twisted into a combination of human and wolf. He stood there, eight feet of fangs and claws, his eyes glued to his once alpha as he slowly marched around the hunter. He turned to face Torie, his yellow eyes pleading.
“I can’t hear what you’re saying, Elric,” she said. “But if you’re telling us to run, the answer is no.”
“Actually it’s ‘hell no’,” said Jasmin. She held up her hands, summoning magic in the form of glowing blue orbs that encircled her fists. She turned to face the hunter and took a step forward.
Elric placed a large paw gently on her chest, looking from her to Torie.
Jasmin understood and backed up to stand next to her friend. Elric roared, and then turned, charging the hunter. The building shook beneath the weight of his footsteps as he advanced. He glanced at Max, nodding at some unspoken communication that passed between them.
As one, they attacked the hunter, lunging and slashing at the woman.
The blade was the object of their first attack. Max feinted one direction and then spun with blinding speed as he attacked her from the left. She pivoted, using her free hand to shield her side. At the same instant, Elric made a grab for her right arm, trying to pry the blade free. His attack worked as the knife flew from her hand to skitter across the wooden floor.
The hunter grunted, lifting her knee to connect with Elric’s jaw before he could sink his fangs into her. Simultaneously, she twisted her body, driving her elbow downward on to Max’s spine. The wolf howled in pain as the blow drove him into the ground.
She spun then, lashing out with a kick that connected with his jaw, slamming it shut. She reached down, wrapping her arm around his neck. She meant to snap the werewolf’s spine, but before she could gain sufficient leverage, Elric was at her back again. This time, he grabbed her about the waist in a bear hug, lifting her off his friend.
The hunter grunted as he sought to squeeze the wind from her lungs. She drove an elbow backward into his mid-section and followed that up by slamming the back of her head into his snout. Elric howled in pain, relaxing his grip on her just enough for the hunter to slip her arms free of his hold. She reached up, grasped him about the head, and pulled his body up and over her own, slamming him to the floor with a thud.
She rolled across the floor, sweeping up her knife in a single, graceful move. Then, knife in hand, cartwheeled backwards to straddle Elric’s still stunned body. With one hand she held the werewolf in place, while lifting the knife over her head as she prepared to deliver the death blow. A flash of blue light struck her knife hand, sending it spiraling away from her.
The hunter looked over to see Jasmin send another blast of power her way. She rolled to the side, barely evading the bolt of light. One hand snaked inside her jacket, and as she came up out of the roll, she flick
ed a small, black blade at Jasmin. It whizzed past the witch’s head, embedding itself in the wall behind her. At this point, she sensed Max approaching from behind, and she spun, catching him with a spinning heel kick that knocked the wolf sideways.
Reaching into another hidden pocket in her jacket, she withdrew a golden sphere that was connected to a gold chain that shimmered to life in her grasp. She begun to spin it rapidly before her just as Jasmin unleashed another bolt of magic. The power hit the whirling gold chain and splintered into sparks of harmless light. With the chain and sphere acting as a shield before her, she slowly advanced on the witch.
A blast of thunder rocked the bar as a section of the ceiling above the hunter exploded. At the same time, glowing ectoplasmic tentacles stretched up from the floor, wrapping themselves around the hunter and then tossing her hard against the back wall.
Everyone looked behind where the hunter had stood. Glen was there reloading her shotgun. At her side stood Fionna and another woman dressed in gray jeans, a red button-up shirt and a long, silver cardigan. Her eyes glowed white and her body seemed to glow with the same, eerie light that had emanated from the tentacles. The distinctive chc-chock sound of the shot gun as Glen pumped the shells into place froze everyone.
“Let’s see if you can block this,” Glen said, her voice flat as she aimed the barrel at the young woman.
The hunter slowly looked around her, realizing she was surrounded. Jasmin stood before her, both fists glowing with magic, the two wolves had regained their feet and were stalking her from both sides. Behind stood Glen with a loaded shotgun and the woman who had summoned yet more ghostly tentacles that floated next to her.
The hunter smiled and slowly raised both hands to the ceiling.
Max shifted back to human form and carefully approached her.
“Elric, get my cuffs from my jacket over on the bar. Don’t you move, little lady.” He slowly grasped one of her wrists and brought her arm back behind her.
The hunter moved with blinding speed. She twisted her body, crossing her wrists to break the surprised werewolf’s grip. Then, scooping him up like a rag doll, she tossed him at both Glen and the stranger, sending the three of them crashing over the bar. An errant shotgun blast went off in Elric’s direction, causing him to dive for cover.