One More Bite

by Jennifer Rardin

  As we watched the cleverly hidden trapdoor reveal a steep set of stairs, Vayl put a hand on my shoulder. “I suppose you know what this means?”

  I leaned over and gave Jack a vigorous rubdown. “That my dog is better than a trained bloodhound?”

  “No. That you are a terrible cook.”

  I shot him a dirty look, but it missed. Because he’d already hit the stairs running. “Come on, boy,” I told my canine hero. “We’ll bide our time on the cook comment. Delayed revenge is always the sweetest.”

  We followed Vayl down the stairs, taking a dangerous pace considering the lack of light and their narrow, winding path. At one point Jack stopped. Sniffed. Demanded that I sniff too. Or, if I was going to be crass about it, at least bend over and take a good look. More blood. They must’ve dropped him here.

  We moved on, seeing no evidence of another exit by the time we’d reached what we thought should be the first floor.

  “These stairs must end in the basement,” Vayl said.

  “Makes sense,” I replied.

  As we continued downward Albert’s voice broke the rhythm of my heightened breathing. “I hear an engine,” he said. “But nothing’s moving out front. It sounds like it’s coming from the barn.”

  “Can you check it out without being seen?” asked Vayl.

  Insulted huff. “Maybe someday I’ll teach you a thing or two about recon, ya baby.”

  Ha! If only Albert knew how old Vayl really was! Um, never mind.

  We finally reached the basement. Typical clutter you’d expect in a B and B storeroom. Broken bed. Shelves packed with paint cans. A freezer full of wrapped meat and frostbitten veggies. A dehumidifier humming away in the middle of the room. Also the guts of the building, which meant we had to bow our heads or be concussed by large pipes that led to the furnace and smaller ones that rushed water from its outer source up to every faucet in the place. Jack found the stairs that led up to a plank door, which stood open, witness to the Scidairans’ rush.

  Vayl took my hand, not out of a sense of shared adventure or romance, but because he was getting ready to run and didn’t want me to slow him down. As we strode toward the exit I asked, “Will Jack be able to keep up with us?” I could run pretty fast now that I’d shared blood with a Were. But Vayl could practically fly.

  He glanced down at the malamute panting happily at my heels. “He should. If not, let him go. He will find us.”

  Vayl trotted up the stairs. They led us into the herb garden. We could hear the engine now. “Sounds like an ATV,” I said.

  “It’s a Honda Big Red,” said Albert. “You’ve seen those? They’re like mini Jeeps with two seats up front, a roll bar, and a small bed in back to haul things with.”

  “I get the picture,” I said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m by the barn, looking in through a crack in the outer wall. Four women inside that I can see. Dormal and Floraidh on the Big Red, the other two opening the back door for them. You’d better hustle. They’re backing out right now.”

  We ran. “Do you see Cole?” asked Vayl.

  “I’ve got the wrong angle. There’s definitely something in the bed of that thing, but it’s hard to tell what from here.”

  As the distance closed between us and the barn, the Scidairans suddenly came into view. They’d turned the Big Red toward the path we’d taken to get to Tearlach during our Ghost-Walk. Hard to tell where they were headed. The cemetery? Clava Cairns? The castle and its plane-hopping doorway? Who cared? We didn’t intend to let them get to the tree line.

  I realized I needed a hand free to work my weapon, so I dropped Jack’s leash, which had become taut enough as we ran that I realized he couldn’t keep up with us anyway. I pulled Grief, estimating the first moment I could fire and hope to hit my target. The part of me that hadn’t yet folded down into assassin mode noted Cole’s legs, clothed in ripped jeans and his favorite red high-tops, dangling over the edge of the vehicle’s bed, and realized he would be so pissed if he was conscious. In fact, he’d probably be saying something like, “This is just my luck. I couldn’t get nabbed by some high-class level of criminal who wears bling and rides in limos. No. I have to be kidnapped by the cast of Bewitched.”

  Speaking of bling, was that glitter I saw reflecting from Floraidh’s neck Humphrey’s forgotten creation? I was thinking so. But before I could figure out how to make that vulnerability work for us, I hit a brick wall and landed flat on my ass. At which point Jack trotted up to me and sniffed my forehead as if to say, “See what you get for leaving me behind?”

  I looked up. Whatever I’d hit had no visible boundaries. All I could see, with every one of my senses maxed out, was a slight bend in the horizon, as if I were viewing it from a telescope. And, of course, now that I wasn’t zeroed in on Cole I could smell the spell that had flung me down.

  Vayl hadn’t been dumped, but he had been stunned. He stood a couple of arms’ lengths to one side of me, hands on his knees, slowly shaking his head.

  I turned back to search for the cause of our blockage. There, at the corner of the barn. The other two women Albert had mentioned. I recognized one as the girl we’d seen manning the Tearlach table at GhostCon. The other was a fiftyish spinster with a forgettable face who must’ve decided taking care of her mother as she slowly faded from life wasn’t quite as fulfilling as she’d anticipated. So why not bow down to an evil sorceress on the side?

  They wore long indigo dresses that clung like spiderwebs as they moved their hands through motions that reminded me eerily of the Raisers who’d inadvertently caused me a shitload of trouble already. These motions, however, demanded where the Raisers pleaded. Their fingers jabbed, their fists punched, the sides of their hands sliced through the air as if to cut through the fabric of the planet itself. And the Raisers had steered wide of introducing sacrifice into their act. I couldn’t tell what had once animated the lump bleeding on the ground between Floraidh’s rear guard, but I suddenly felt like the most irresponsible pet owner ever, bringing Jack into a situation where animals his size ended up lying limp and lifeless so that wicked shitbricks could progress.

  He didn’t seem too happy about the deal either. His ears laid back as he caught the scent of the carcass. Or maybe it was the Scidairan chant that put him off. It did sound like it had been written by someone who enjoyed the noise of whiny two-year-olds.

  I shivered, realizing that the wintry lifting of Vayl’s powers was only part of the reason. I’m over my head this time, I thought. These women are going to fry us like moths in a bug zapper and there’s not a damn thing we can do to stop them. Still, I struggled to my feet. Better to die upright than flat on your tush, that’s what Granny May always used to say. Though why she’d ever had cause to develop that philosophy I had no idea. Too bad she wasn’t here to pour more pearls of wisdom into my empty brain. It could’ve used some bright ideas right about now.

  As if he could read my mind Vayl murmured, “These cannot be full coven members. Floraidh will need those for whatever she has planned for Cole. These are novices, Jasmine. We can beat them.”

  “With what?” I whispered. “How do you battle something whose weapons you can’t even see?” We’d never had to kill a Scidairan before, dammit. Pete saved those kinds of hits for our warlock.

  He came to stand at my shoulder. “Use what you know. And then improvise.”

  I took a deep breath. And yelled, “Love those outfits, girls! You look like a couple of litmus test strips. Yo, Vayl, did we bring the acid? Let’s turn these bitches red!”

  Anybody with even a week of field experience wouldn’t have missed a step. But these bimbettes must’ve come fresh from the Scidair School of World-Ripping. They both hesitated. And in that moment, as it so often does during the most violent times of my life, everything slowed down as everyone moved at once.

  Albert stepped out from hiding, swinging some sort of club at the shorter of the two Scidairans.

  She fell to her knees as her partner spun to f
ace this new threat. I hoped the shock of Albert’s attack would send her into instinctual attack mode. If she just jumped him, he’d be fine. Even at his age he could pound the crap out of men twice his size. Unfortunately she kept her cool. Sweeping her power from the shield that had barred us, she shoved it at my dad, throwing him into the barn’s wall. He crumpled to the ground.

  Already halfway to them, Grief in one hand, my bolo in the other, I kept one eye on Albert and the other on the girls. The one he’d felled was stirring, moaning. The other had begun to turn back to me. Thank God! Albert moved. But it was to clutch one hand to his chest. Shit!

  Vayl swept past me, grabbing my hand on the way and holding our arms outstretched. We clotheslined that Scidairan whore like a WWE tag team, laying her out like a corpse on an autopsy table. I took aim.

  “No,” said Vayl. “Remember the mission.”

  For a second I couldn’t. Not even the part about why we had to work it in Scotland. All I wanted was to shoot that black heart full of steel, guarantee that nobody else’s dad would ever suffer a heart attack because this twisted bit of snot couldn’t see the good in anything. Then Albert belched.

  “Ahh, that’s better. Did you see that, Jaz? She knocked the breath right out of me!”

  As I turned my head, my neck aching with the effort it took to hold up my unbelieving brain, Vayl said, “Albert, can you find some rope? We must not leave them free to roam while we chase after Cole.”

  I watched Albert struggle to his feet, his knees seeming to be more of a problem than the blows he’d taken from the Scidairan. As soon as he disappeared into the barn I said, “I always suspected he was indestructible. Now I know it.”

  However, when he didn’t immediately return I started to wonder if I’d spoken too soon. “You two might want to come in here,” Albert finally said.

  Nodding to one another, we each grabbed a girl and shook them awake. I’d chosen the smaller one, who came to all at once. She sat up, grabbing her head and screeching like a pissed-off parrot.

  “Be quiet,” I said as I grabbed her wrists and shoved them high enough on her back that she squawked again. “You’re just going to give yourself a bigger headache.”

  Vayl’s old gal decided the whole situation was horribly humiliating and began to cry as we walked them into the barn. Or maybe she thought we’d sympathize and let them go. Ha!

  Albert stood in the open space between two rows of empty stalls. In one hand he held a tarp. The other motioned to an enormous black-lidded barbecue, the kind you’d expect to see beside a food vendor’s tent at a street fair. “I lifted the lid,” he said. “People store all kinds of stuff in their grills. I thought, Why not rope?” He pointed.

  Shoving my charge ahead of me, I moved toward the cooker. And stopped again just before my hip hit the side table.

  “Vayl?”

  “Yes, Jasmine,” he said gravely.

  “Is that an eyeball lying in the cinders under the grate?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Jesus.” I spun my girl around, but before I could even begin to question her she threw up. The only reason she missed me was that I read the signs correctly and shoved her away before any damage was done. “Tie her up, Albert.” For once, he just nodded.

  Turning to Vayl’s prisoner, I stalked toward her, noting with satisfaction that the closer I got the bigger her eyes grew. “I don’t know anything!” she squeaked.

  “Sure you do,” I said. “Your boss is cooking people in her backyard. That’s not something she’s going to be able to sneak past the novices. In fact, I’m guessing you probably had to spend time at the grill. Part of your training?” When she caught her breath I knew I’d hit the mark.

  I lifted my knife. Pressed the tip against her cheek. “We could add another trophy to the one in that grill real easy.” Change of angle, just enough to draw blood. Vayl held her tightly, not allowing her to jump and injure herself further. Giving me complete control. “What are they planning tonight?”

  “Floraidh is bringing the Raptor back to the skies.”

  Raising Samos, just like I thought. Okay, don’t panic. “How?”

  “We’re eaters of the dead. It transforms us, and allows us to live beyond our mortal lives.” She sounded like she was reading from a textbook. The same one Tolly had stolen a peek from when she’d dipped her foot into Scidairan magic.

  “What does that have to do with my friend?”

  She gasped as I twisted the knife, letting her cheek feel its sharp edge. “When we eat the living we can make other transformations. With the right words, the right components, we can—” Her eyes widened in horror as they focused on a spot behind me. “She knows I’m talking to you! You must promise to protect me!”

  “Of course. Where’s she headed?”

  “Clava Cairns. She’s already buried the items she needs there. She just had to get the diamonds to pro—” The girl gasped. “Floraidh! I’m sorry. I had no—” Both girls began to choke. I pulled the knife away from the talker’s face as her body bucked and writhed, struggling for air.

  Within a minute Vayl had laid her beside her partner. Though Albert had called an ambulance, it would serve only as a hearse.

  I grabbed Vayl’s arm. “Let’s go. We can still catch up to them if we hurry, right?”

  He looked off in the direction they’d gone, cast his eyes back down to me. “Possibly. But I would hate to be drained of my energy at the very point I might need it the most.”

  “The van, then. I’ll drive,” I said, digging into my pocket for the keys. “Albert, you stay here with Jack.”

  “And explain the dead girls how?” he asked. “The way my luck’s been running, they’ll have stood me in front of a firing squad for murder before you two get here to back up my story!”

  The fact that Albert had managed to keep up with us as we hurried around to the front of the house explained better than anything how he felt about being left behind. And I sure as hell didn’t have time to argue. “Fine. But you keep your ass parked in the van until we tell you it’s okay to come out,” I said.

  “I might be able to help you,” he told me. “I’m pretty handy with a golf club.” Which was when I finally got a good look at the weapon that had taken down girl number two. Hard to tell where he’d found the nine iron he was currently using as a walking stick, but at this point I wouldn’t have cared if it was a bazooka.

  “You’re in the vehicle or you’re stuck here and I don’t give a crap if they dangle you from Castle Hoppringhill’s tallest tower.”

  “I knew you were gonna say that. Fine. But if you need me, yell.” Albert hefted himself into the backseat of the Alhambra as Vayl, Jack, and I jumped into the front.

  The dog settled between the front seats until Albert said, “Yo, mutt. I’ve got a goody for you back here.” While it wasn’t advisable, I glanced behind me. My dad was just pulling a sausage out of his pocket, which Jack reacted to with a bouncing turn that slapped his tail against my jacket as he enjoyed his snack.

  “Why are you carrying fresh meat around with you?” I asked as I turned my eyes back to the road.

  “I never know when I’m going to want a snack.”

  “What’s in your pants pocket?”

  “A Fruit Roll-Up and half a ham sandwich.”

  “You’re joshing.”

  “I never joke about food.”

  I wished he’d find something to kid about. My insides were wound up so tight a good guitarist could’ve played the opening riff to “Smoke on the Water” on my intestines.

  “Cole is fine,” said Vayl.

  “How do you know?” I snapped. “It’s not like we have any clue what her plan is. Hell, she might have already started snacking on his fingers. Which means even if we save him he’ll never be able to talk to Viv again!”

  Albert laughed.

  “You are such a dick,” I said under my breath.

  “What did you say?” my father demanded.

  “You
’re a selfish dick!” I yelled.

  “That’s better! I knew I taught you not to talk behind people’s backs!”

  The turn to Clava Cairns appeared on my right a lot sooner than I’d anticipated. I slammed the brakes and spun the wheel, making my dad swear as I slid him into the window. Even Vayl had to clutch the door handle, and I wondered for a second if the vehicle was going to roll as the tires screeched like a pissed-off diva.

  As soon as I had the vehicle straightened out again, I killed the lights.

  “Is that such a good idea?” asked Albert.

  “I can see fine,” I replied.

  “What kind of approach were you considering?” asked Vayl as we rocketed past the sign that told us we had less than five kilometers to go before we reached one of Scotland’s most ancient landmarks.

  “Quick and violent,” I said.

  He considered. “That might be a problem if she has a shield in place like the one that felled us.”

  “I’m driving a van toward them at seventy miles an hour. That gives you a little more than two minutes to think up a better idea.”

  His answer was to tighten his seat belt and reach back to get a good grip on Jack’s collar.

  “Oohrah!” yelled my dad. “This takes me back! Anybody got a weapon I can use?”

  “Goddammit, you’re staying in the van!”

  “What if somebody sneaks in through the back? Or breaks a window? This glass isn’t bulletproof, you know.”

  “I am driving an unfamiliar vehicle down a narrow road I’ve never seen before. Do you really want to be pissing me off right now?”

  Vayl handed Albert his cane. “Just twist the blue crystal on the top,” he said. “The sheath shoots off, which many of my opponents have found detrimental to their health to begin with. Inside is a weapon made by an Indian sword smith known the world over for his secret forging techniques. The blade is over seven hundred years old and it has never lost its edge.”

  I glanced in the rearview in time to see the respect squaring Albert’s jaw as he accepted Vayl’s sword. The fingers of one hand brushed lightly against the tigers stalking each other from one end of the sheath to the other. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll make sure it gets back to you in good shape.”