by Rachel Green
Felicia stared at them, lost in their depth for a moment. “No.” She brought herself back into focus. “I won’t be rebuilding. Was there a trust fund for Julie? She mentioned it to me but I can’t say I’d ever heard of it.”
“There was, as a matter of fact.” Isaacs opened the file and passed her another sheet of paper. “Your mother put in a hundred pounds a month since Julie was born.”
Felicia looked at the accrued sum and whistled. “I wish she’d done the same for me.”
Isaacs smiled. “I think you’ll be taken care of.”
* * * *
After leaving Isaacs, Felicia took the enchanted pendulum from her pocket. The deviation from the vertical was more pronounced, indicating the butch was much closer than when Julie had cast the spell. Felicia walked in the direction the pendulum indicated.
The clock on St. Marple’s chimed nine as she passed, the angle of the pendulum increasing. The woman must be close to provoke such a marked reaction. The device twisted as she approached the nightclub and Felicia looked up to the blacked-out windows.
“It’s time to pay the piper, sweetie.” She trotted up the six steps to the door. “And the piper’s wanting blood.”
Chapter 23
Felicia paid her entrance fee and moved into the loud beat of the music, tapping her hand against her thigh as she scanned the dancers and onlookers for her quarry.
There was no trace of the butch in the downstairs area. Felicia bought water from the bar and took a long pull from the plastic bottle, letting it hang off her first two fingers, her thumb over the open neck to prevent anyone slipping in a roofie.
She trod lightly upstairs, weaving past the men using them as a vantage point to watch the dancers, picking out women with whom they hoped to spend the night. Felicia suspected they’d all be going home alone, despite the admiring glances sent her way. Her figure had filled out and toned up considerably since she’d last frequented this club. Was it only last week? By the time she entered the Goth floor, she had turned down several offers of drinks and dances.
Hidden in the lee of a fruit machine, she looked for the butch who’d changed her life so radically during sex. The whirrs and bleeps of the machine kept interrupting her concentration and her eyesight shifted focus, the flashing lights around her losing color as her anger roused her inner wolf.
Her perception of color was replaced by the scent of body chemicals that made a Jackson Pollock in three dimensions. Her brain compensated by assigning colors to each pheromone trail. Here was the deep crimson of desire, the orange of thirst, the black of disgust and its companion anger and there, in a trail leading upward, the white line of wolf pheromones.
Felicia kicked off the wall, the heel of her shoe finding the switch for the fruit machine. Its bright jackpot lights died but she didn’t look back.
She pushed through velvet bodies, the scent of patchouli and musk momentarily blinding her to the wolf trail but she picked it up as soon as her sinuses cleared. Up to the balcony. She snarled at a pair of neo-goth vampire wannabes wearing false eye teeth and white zinc face powder. They stared as she passed, pulling velvet-lined cloaks out of the way. Felicia wondered what they would really think if they came face to face with Gillian or Isaacs in a cold, dark alley.
She didn’t slow at the top of the steps, the scent now so strong she wondered why normal people weren’t reacting to it. Couldn’t they sense the danger they were in when a werewolf walked among them?
She allowed herself a smile. Scratch that. Two werewolves.
The trail led to a cloud of pheromones and Felicia’s anger faded, leaving her night blind as she readjusted to mundane sight. She stared at her progenitor, who laughed with two of her friends. Felicia stopped, her stance and demeanor causing those around her to back away. The decrease in chatter alerted the butch and she turned, saw Felicia and pushed away the two friends.
“Little mistress.” She held out a hand. “You’re looking well.”
“Jenna.” Felicia remembered the name.
“Jennifer Keller.” She smiled.
“Do you know what you did to me?”
“All too well.” She glanced at the people around them straining to overhear their conversation. “What was I to do? I recognized you as a sleeper the moment I saw you. I couldn’t resist recruiting you.”
“A sleeper?” Felicia frowned. “You mean a blank? Lucky for me I fell in with people who knew what was happening to me. Without them, I’d have gone insane by now.”
“So what’s the problem?” Jenna steered her to a corner where they could talk undisturbed. Below them dancers gyrated to eighties-style music, oblivious to everything but attracting a partner.
“I could have been killed. My mother’s dead and my sister and I are being hunted. Our kind are being destroyed all over town.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” She hissed, her face so close Felicia could smell the orange on her breath. “What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t recruited you?”
“Infected me, you mean.”
“Whatever. Your mother would still be dead and you’d have no idea why. Your sister would be dead and you’d have no idea why. You’d be dead as well, unable to save even yourself from those out to destroy us. This way, you’re still alive to tell the tale, and if you’re pissed at me, so be it. I’d rather you were angry than dead.”
“If I hadn’t run into Gillian I would have been. Didn’t the concept of aftercare even occur to you? I had no idea what was going on. For all I knew, I had a disease.”
“You have a gift. Look around. Do you think a single one of these people wouldn’t want the abilities your heritage has given you? You can pretend to be human, live among them, but you’re so much more.”
“I don’t care. I can’t go back now if I wanted to. What gave you the right to do this to me?”
“The right of our kind.” Jenna nodded to the swathe of dancers on the floor. “See them? That used to be us. We’re above all that now.”
“What do you mean?” Felicia spared a glance at the dance floor. “I still like to dance, even after what you did to me.”
“Dance, yes, but the perpetual rutting?” Jenna shook her head. “Sex with our own kind is much more rewarding.” She drew a finger down Felicia’s blouse.
Felicia slapped her hand away. “That makes it all right, does it? My life has been ruined by this. I can’t think straight any more. My mother’s dead and there’s a bloody angel hunting me.”
Jenna’s eyes flashed. “I know. My whole clan was destroyed in a single night in London. Do you know how many of our kind have died over the last three months? Hundreds. Not just werewolves but vampires, mages, seers and breeders. All of us. Someone is trying to eradicate the nephilim.”
“You seem to know a lot about it. How do I know you’re not allied with them?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Jenna turned and rested her arms on the railing. “Would I have quickened you if I was? I could have destroyed you while you were still mundane far more easily.”
“I wish you had.” Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I never asked for this.”
“You didn’t ask for the intelligence you were born with either, but you don’t begrudge it. There’s no going back, only forward. Embrace your new life.”
“I might have adjusted to it more easily if you hadn’t just changed me and left. I had no idea what was happening.”
“I would have come looking for you. There’s a full moon in a week’s time. I’d have found you.”
“What did you expect me to do? Curl up and sleep until then?”
“You ran off. What was I supposed to do? You didn't give me your number, did you? At least at the full moon I would know you were a wolf. I would have found you by scent.
“Did you even try to trace me?
“Would you truly go back to what you were?” Jenna placed a hand on Felicia’s shoulder. “You have so much more now. You have a family.”
&
nbsp; “I had a family before.” Felicia shrugged, and Jenna’s hand dropped away. “Now my mother’s dead and my sister is in hiding.”
“I’m sorry.” Jenna gave a heavy sigh and leaned against the railing. “We have to band together in this. I don’t know why they’ve turned on us again.”
“Again?” Felicia clutched at Jenna, her nails digging into the soft flesh. “They’ve done this before?”
“Not like this.” Jenna twisted away. “They normally just hunt one or two for sport.” She looked down at where Felicia clutched her. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s just a scratch.” Felicia said, but she knew that she was wrong by the shift in her perceptions. The scent of blood filled her nostrils and she growled.
In the light of the strobes from the dance floor she could see the shift in Jenna’s eyes and she tensed before she sprang, a hundred pounds of woman hit with the force of five hundred pounds of wolf, the blow splitting Felicia’s cheek against her teeth.
A spray of blood spattered onto the dancers below as Felicia launched herself against Jenna, her nails shredding cloth like detergent through oil. Felicia’s wrist caught Jenna under the throat as her left hand reached for the back of her neck, intent upon twisting bone against bone to end the fight as quickly as it had started. Jenna sank with the blow, dropping to her right to drive her claws into the soft flesh of Felicia’s abdomen and eviscerate her.
Felicia’s thigh muscles, strong even before she became a wolf, powered her backward and over the railing, where she executed a flip to land on her feet in the center of the dance floor, narrowly missing a pair of boys who sprang apart at the interruption of their kiss. Felicia glanced around, looking for an escape route. She may have found a new family with Gillian and the rest but it hadn't even occurred to her that Jenna was an alpha. The nature channel had taught her that wolves were fiercely competitive and yet here she was, challenging an alpha. Stupid.
She looked up as Jenna leaped onto the railing, pausing for a moment before springing down onto Felicia. Dancing ceased as everyone turned to watch the catfight. Since only those with the Sight could see the shifts as hands turned into claws and mouths elongated into snouts, it appeared to be just two women fighting. Her heavier bulk landed on top of Felicia, forcing her to the floor. Felicia rolled and kicked, twisting off her shoes to rake the butch with her feet. In her peripheral vision she could see bouncers pushing through the crowd of excited onlookers, and with a concerted effort, pushed Jenna off.
She sprang up and ran, leaping to the shoulders of the crowd and stepping from one to the next, treading so lightly they hardly noticed her passing. A glance behind showed Jenna giving chase by barging through them, sending drinks and people flying. Felicia reached the car park and carried on running, heading toward the Royal Park. Behind her, she heard the door slam into the wall and Jenna’s boots pounding against the tarmac. She increased her speed, trying to outrun the bigger woman. She ducked left into Park Road, gaining several yards as Jenna skidded on the turn.
She leaped onto the wall that enclosed the park then pulled herself up and over before heading toward the woods on the other side. If she could make it there, she could reach Laverstone Manor and the safety offered by Jasfoup and Gillian.
Felicia risked a look behind. Jenna had just cleared the wall and was pounding toward her, her stronger legs gaining ground. She was half-shifted, her wolf form giving her an advantage Felicia couldn’t yet match.
Her heart pounding and the threat of imminent stitch in her side, Felicia tried to increase speed but it only made the pain more intrusive. She grunted. A werewolf might heal external injuries but muscle fatigue would always be with her.
Wishing she had an imp like Julie’s she could send for help, she turned to face Jenna, hoping her reserves of energy would hold out for a fight. She gaped in horror as a winged figure dropped out of the sky like a hawk coming in for the kill. “Look out!”
Jenna glanced behind and managed to duck as an angel’s flaming sword whistling past her head. She rolled and whirled to face it, her pursuit forgotten.
Chapter 24
Felicia hesitated, her heart in her mouth at the re-appearance of the angel. The trees and grass flickered with reflected light as the angel landed lightly before Jenna, its body fluorescing faintly from the distant street lights. She took a deep breath, chiding herself for her cowardice and headed into the fray to aid the older werewolf.
“Hey, peacock.” She darted under the multiple sets of wings and aimed a strike and the statuesque legs of the eight-foot tall creature. “Why not try the newer model?”
The angel barely glanced at her before a launching a beam of celestial fire. She tried to dodge but was too slow, the flames piercing her leg like a laser, burning and cauterizing flesh as it earthed into the ground below.
Felicia screamed and collapsed against the grass, her regenerative powers unable to repair burned flesh. She clenched her teeth at the searing pain, her lips drawn back and her eyes squeezed shut for as long as she dared. She clutched her injury with both hands, rolling to one side in case another strike came, bile filling her mouth as she fought not to vomit. A stream of invective poured from her, every swear word she’d learned since she was three and her dad had let slip a “bugger”. The distraction allowed Jenna to strike, punching her claws into the angel and forcing it backward. Felicia used her good leg to scoot backward.
The sound of splintering glass heralded the arrival of an imp. Wrack took one look at the angel and whimpered. He hunkered down, pulling something from the pouch on his loincloth. “Here.” He stuffed it into her hand. “Compliments of Julie.” He began to open his portal again.
“Wait!” Felicia clutched at him. “How did you know I was in trouble? What are these?”
Wrack shrieked as the angel turned on them. “No time. They’re fetiches, encapsulated spells. Throw them.” He climbed into the gate.
“What do they do?”
“Magic!” Wrack vanished and Felicia looked up at the approaching seraph, hefted the three stones and transferred two to her left hand. They felt like marbles, and she had the urge to laugh at the absurdity of throwing them at such a powerful being. At least help was on its way.
Jenna launched herself toward the angel but it spun its sword in an arc and lopped off one of her hands. She screamed and fell, clutching the injured wrist against her stomach.
Felicia spared a glance at the fetiche in her right hand. Though hard as glass, it had the appearance of coiled smoke. She threw, the ball traveling in an arc until it hit the angel, bounced off the swiftly moving sword and landed in the grass.
A ball of fire lanced upward. Felicia could feel the heat of it on her face as she turned away, a fireball expanding into the night sky and snuffing out at the height of the treetops to leave a blue after-image on the back of her eyelids. Cool night air, expanded by the sudden heat, rushed to reclaim the low-pressure void and caused a thunderclap, which set car alarms going.
She rolled away, trying to keep her injured leg free of the grass. “That would have been great if it had worked.” She transferred the second ball into her right hand and lobbed it at the ground in front of the angel.
No fireball and no thunderclap. The second missile sent out a vertical beam of darkness, partially obscuring the glowing figure of the angel. Felicia rolled farther, slightly annoyed Julie had sent her a different spell that left unable to plan her attack. A figure appeared in the darkness, shifting and flowing like shadow as it attacked.
The angel swung its sword and the dark thing enveloped the blade as it was cut in two. Darkness flowed up the flickering steel as shadows knitted, leaving no sign of the bisecting cut.
Felicia could hear the sirens of emergency vehicles. Most of the car alarms had stopped.
The seraph sent a ball of flame at the dark thing, and it twisted in the embrace of the fire, its shrieks obvious from the wide mouth but terrifying in its silence. It vanished as Felicia h
obbled backward, favoring her uninjured leg.
The angel was almost upon her when she threw the third and final fetiche, this time with enough force to hit the seraph in the chest. Neither fireball nor dark thing appeared. Instead the air around the celestial being coalesced and seemed to be sucked back toward the advancing figure.
The seraph was frozen, water droplets freezing in the effect of the spell Julie had mastered earlier in the evening. Felicia was almost surprised there was a practical use for it other than for cooling drinks.
Edging around the stationary being, she reached Jenna, who still cradled her stump. “Let’s get out of here. That’s not going to hold it long.”
“My hand.” Jenna moaned, tears streaking her cheeks. “Find my hand.”
Felicia cast about on the ground, risking a glance at the seraph. The ice had already become translucent where it melted from the inside. The severed hand was still in flux between human and wolf, stubby fingers ending in long barbed claws. She pressed it into Jenna’s good hand. “We’ve got to go. It’ll be free any moment.”
Jenna nodded and the two limped across the park toward the woods, Felicia expecting to feel celestial fire at any moment. What she heard, though, were the shouts of several men as they hurried across the park with torches.
“Saved by mundanes.” Jenna nodded toward the angel.
Felicia looked back. The angel was gone, leaving behind the rapidly melting case of glass. The mortals would think it some elaborate stunt to build an ice sculpture in the middle of the park. “Why? Why does it vanish when the mortals come?”
“Faith.” Jenna clutched her stump to her chest. “If a mortal sees an angel, it proves the existence of God and proof denies faith, within which the power of God resides.”
Felicia shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why doesn’t God want to prove His existence?”
“It’s like picking numbers for a lottery.” Jenna glanced back again as they entered the safety of the trees. “If you know the numbers before you start, you’re not going to pick ones that don’t win. Freedom of choice would be gone. You would have to live according to God’s rules or not at all.”