Witch Hunter

by Shannon Curtis

  His comment, though, brought a lot of things into sharp relief. He’d been cast out. For a witch whose powers were limited, he needed the safety of a coven to ward off threats. He would have been vulnerable. Alone. Although she thought that was a fitting outcome for this guy, she wouldn’t have actually wished it on anyone. After living so long without her own coven, she knew how lonely, and how scary, it could be on your own.

  Marty sneered. “You called me a pathetic vessel of puerile misery.”

  “I’d have to agree,” a deep voice called out from behind her.

  Relief flooded her when she recognized Dave’s voice. She didn’t turn, though, didn’t take her eyes off Marty and little Noah.

  Marty’s eyes widened, and his hand moved. A fireball burst from his palm, and Sully ducked. She heard a grunt, a hiss and then a thud. She glanced over her shoulder. Dave was on the sandy floor of the cave below, and steam was rising from his jacket. Dave shot Marty an exasperated glare.

  “Hey, watch it. This is my favorite jacket.”

  “Stand back,” Marty shouted, and Sully turned in time to see him angle the knife toward Noah’s throat.

  She met Noah’s eyes and saw a familiar terror, one she recognized from her own experience with this man. That day he’d pushed her down the hallway, and she’d fallen in front of the mirror... She’d seen her expression, seen the fear, the desperation...the depths she’d allowed herself to sink to. She saw that same fear, that same desperation in her friend’s son. Something snapped inside her. Rage—but not fiery and unpredictable. No, this anger filled her like a cold, calm curtain of control.

  She stepped closer. “You can’t hurt him,” she told Marty, her eyes on his.

  “Oh, and who’s going to stop me? You?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She lifted her chin in Noah’s direction. “He is.”

  “He’s a little badass,” Dave called as he grasped the lip of the ramp and pulled himself up and over. He rose to his feet and winked at Noah. “Aren’t you, buddy?”

  Noah looked at Dave, then nodded faintly.

  Marty smirked, then brought the knife down.

  The blade halted about half a foot away from his body. Marty frowned and tried again. Again, he faltered, as though the knife encountered an invisible barrier.

  Marty looked up at her and Dave, his eyes wide. “What have you done?” he rasped.

  “You’re not the only one who can draw symbols,” Dave responded as he came up to Sully’s side. “Only I’m better at it.”

  “He’s protected,” Sully told Marty. “It’s over. You can’t make your quota.”

  Marty shook his head. “No,” he bellowed, his face blooming with the heat of his rage. He shoved Noah, who screamed as he stumbled and fell over the edge of the ramp. Dave launched himself over the edge, diving for the boy. He caught Noah midfall and twisted so that his body bore the full brunt of the landing on the cave floor about twelve feet below.

  Sully screamed, racing to the edge of the ramp to look down. Dave wheezed, but he gave her a thumbs-up signal. She turned around to see Marty running farther up the ramp. The witch leaped across a divide to a rock ledge. He scurried along to a tunnel opening and disappeared.

  She hesitated, then Dave groaned.

  “No,” he gasped, his hand to his chest. He lifted his gaze to Sully. “I’m warming up. He’s got someone back there.”

  She turned and ran, heart in her throat as she jumped over the gap between ramp and rock ledge. She hissed as her hands slammed into the rock wall, and she almost bounced back. She clasped a rock bulge to prevent herself from plummeting backward into the cave. Taking a deep breath, she scurried along the ledge, hugging the wall until she reached the tunnel, and then started to run.

  It was so dark. Sully braced her hands outward, using her contact with the wall of the tunnel as a guide. A strangled scream echoed down the tunnel, and she sped up, stumbling along until the tunnel opened up into another smaller cavern. She skidded to a halt. A shaft of light came through an opening in the roof of the cavern, almost like a natural skylight. The light was weak, though, and growing dimmer.

  A man lay cowering on the floor, Marty straddled his body. His hands and feet were tied, and his yells were muffled by his gag as he shook his head rapidly at Marty. A woman lay on the ground nearby, her wrists and ankles bound, tears streaking her face. Marty raised his hand and the blade gleamed in the weak light.

  Sully reacted. She ran toward him, her hand pulling out one of her belt blades as she did. She raised her hand behind her ear and flung the blade.

  Chapter 23

  The woman screamed. Marty cried out in pain as the blade sliced across the back of his clenched fist, and he dropped his knife.

  Sully leaped, her legs out in front, and caught Marty in the back with her foot. He tumbled off the man, and Sully landed heavily on the rocky ground, rolling with her momentum to gain her feet and spin around.

  The null on the floor rolled rapidly away from Marty and kept rolling until he hit a boulder.

  Marty reached for his knife as he rose to his knees, then his feet. His face was grim and full of anger as he faced Sully.

  “You bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. Sully put both her hands out, knees bent, waiting for his move. Marty started to laugh. “You think you can fight me?” He tossed the blade, letting it turn in his hand. Sully flinched at the nonchalance of his movement. “These are nulls, Sully. You have no power here.”

  Sully licked her lips, her gaze darting to the couple on the ground to the left. The man stretched his hand out and grasped the hilt of the blade she’d thrown at Marty. She brought her gaze back to the maddened witch in front of her. As long as she had his attention, he wouldn’t realize the purebloods were cutting through their restraints.

  She just had to keep him occupied long enough for them to escape...her, against the only witch to ever be able to use the null effect to his advantage. She swallowed.

  “See, this is your problem, Marty,” she told him, shaking her head as she sidestepped to the right. His gaze followed her—away from the bound couple on the ground. “You never got it.”

  He smirked, and she had to wonder what on earth she’d ever seen in this man who was becoming even more unattractive to her. “What’s that, Sully?”

  “You were always thirsty for magic, you always craved it and you never realized that magic isn’t the only form of power,” she said softly. She flexed her wrists, and her sai swords ejected from their sheaths, sliding along her arms until she grasped their hilts.

  He grinned and his left eyebrow rose at the move. “You think you can take me on?” he asked silkily. “Do you forget all those times, Sully, when you were cowering on our living room floor, or beside the bed, quivering?” He spread his arms out. “That—that was power. And you always gave it to me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I guess I’m taking it back.”

  She launched herself at him, and he brought his blade up. The clink and clank of blades striking each other filled the cave, little sparks coming off as the metals collided. Sully moved rapidly, spinning and ducking. A movement caught her eye. The couple had freed themselves, and were running toward the tunnel.

  Her distraction cost her. She hissed when she felt the hot slice against her forearm. Marty had cut her.

  He gave her a triumphant grin—until he saw the couple dart down the tunnel behind her. He shifted his gaze back to hers. “You bitch.”

  This time she smirked at him. “You have no idea.”

  She flicked her wrists, drawing her blades along her forearms in a defensive yet elegant move. His eyes narrowed and he came at her again, his blade flashing. Over and over, she blocked his strikes, the clash of metal ringing through the cave. He was forcing her back, his eyes wide with fury, his teeth bared.

  She stepped back and halted. Her back
was to the wall. Marty smiled.

  Sully flicked the sai swords around to an offensive position, then started twirling them. She got faster and faster as she stepped forward, and Marty was forced to step back, unable to penetrate her wall of whirling blades.

  “Martin Steedbeck,” a familiar voice bellowed from within the tunnel. Dave.

  She waggled her eyebrows at Marty. “Ooh, you’re in trouble now.”

  “In accordance with Nature’s Law, passed down by the Ancients, you have been found guilty, and for your dark crimes, the Ancestors call upon your return to the Other Realm, to a place of execution—”

  Marty roared, lashing out with his feet and kicking Sully’s knee out from under her. She fell to the floor, her knee landing hard on the rock surface. Marty smacked one sword out of her grasp, and grabbed hold of her other wrist as he stepped behind her, his knife at her neck. “Drop it.”

  He squeezed her wrist, and she could feel her fingers tingle. Her grasp relaxed on the blade, and it clanged as it fell to the stone floor.

  * * *

  Dave emerged from the tunnel. He stopped talking when he saw Sully on her knees, Mental Marty’s knife to her throat.

  “I don’t recognize Nature’s Law,” Marty rasped, panting.

  “It recognizes you,” Dave said in a low, dangerous voice. He removed his sunglasses, sliding them casually into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. Son. Of. A. Bitch. He had to fight the natural instinct to go berserk all over the witch’s ass.

  The tip of the blade pressed under Sully’s chin, and she had to tilt her head back to avoid it piercing her skin.

  “Get up,” Marty hissed to her. She rose to her feet, very carefully. One stumble, one awkward lean, and she could end up with a knife in her skull.

  Dave’s heart was in his throat. His fists clenched. He could still sense the nulls in the cave system, although their effect was weakening. Tyler was guiding Noah and the couple he’d almost cannoned into on the rock ledge outside. He’d told the sheriff to clear the area of nulls. If there were any nearby, they’d mute his capacity to fight this witch, and Marty would have the advantage.

  “You’re going to be fine, Sully,” Dave said, trying to keep his voice calm and warm for her benefit, when he really wanted to bellow with rage at this witch putting the woman he loved at risk. He tried to convey all the hell he was going to visit on this witch with his eyes. “Don’t even think about hurting her.”

  A clap of thunder reverberated throughout the cave. Sully glanced upward. The sky that she could glimpse at the end of the shaft was dark gray, and a flash of lightning jolted across the diameter of the shaft.

  “Can you feel the power in the air, Witch Hunter?” Marty asked as he started to back toward the shaft. “That’s my power. I created that.”

  Dave advanced, his shoulders moving in a way that made him look like a big cat stalking prey. Sully shuffled along with Marty, the knife at her neck silently urging her movement.

  “But you can’t complete the spell,” Dave told him. Noah was protected. The other two nulls had escaped.

  Marty shrugged. “Then I simply complete it between now and the summer solstice. I only need two more.” He stepped up on a rock, and Sully hissed at the painful little prick under her chin. “Up.”

  “Sully,” Dave’s voice was low.

  She gave him a shaky smile. “Trust me,” she said in a tremulous voice. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Marty laughed. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to make this feel better, Sully.”

  Dave frowned, his silver gaze full of concern. Sully was...calm. Alarmingly so. She slowly slid her hand to her belt. Trust me, she mouthed at him.

  His mouth opened and his gaze flicked between hers and Marty’s. Aw, hell. She could get herself killed.

  He’d heard their fight through the tunnel, and he’d seen her display back at the motel. He’d been fairly confident she could protect herself—until she wound up with a knife at her throat. He wanted to blast Mental Marty. He wanted to annihilate the bastard. That was his job. He did this alone.

  His gaze met Sully’s. She was pleading with him with her eyes. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to trust her, but...she was in a vulnerable position.

  And she’s armed to the teeth and knows more about personal safeguarding than he may ever learn. Damn it. He hated this. It was anathema to him, letting a woman—a woman in a vulnerable position—call the shots. But it was Sully. He had no idea what she was thinking, but she knew something...this was the woman who’d managed to hold her own against him, who could block an invasive threat to her mind and magic as easily as swatting a fly.

  His frown deepened, but then he nodded. Just once. He kept his gaze on Marty. He could distract the witch, at least. “The Ancestors call upon your return to the Other Realm, to a place of execution, until you are dead. May the Ancestors—”

  Sully’s movement was graceful as she slid her blade from her belt and caught Marty’s knife-wielding hand. She jerked it back, and Marty roared—and Dave winced—at the audible snap of bone. The knife fell to the ground, and she held his hand close to her body as she twisted and knelt. Marty flipped over her head, his feet flying through the air, as she used that same move on the man she’d used on Dave in the motel room. Marty yelled, his head tilting back as he cried out in pain. Dave ran forward, but the witch sat up, hands outstretched, and a wave of power rolled through the cavern. Dave was knocked backward, as was Sully. By the time he rolled over onto his back, Marty was hastily climbing the shaft toward the darkened sky above.

  Dave bolted across the floor to Sully, who was just sitting up. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded, then pointed at the shaft. “Go. I’m fine.”

  Dave sprinted across the cavern floor, leaping up over a boulder to grasp a bulge in the wall, and he started hauling himself up after the witch.

  * * *

  Sully stumbled to the bottom of the shaft. She wasn’t anywhere near as fast as Dave, or that skunk, Marty. Her heart was pounding. Dave. All she could think about was Dave. Marty was strong. She could sense it in him. She would have tried to draw some of that power out of him, when he held her, but he would have sensed it immediately, and she couldn’t get her magic on with a knife in the brain.

  Her foot slipped and she gasped, clinging to the rock face. A ladder. A ladder would be really good about now. She kept climbing. The light was almost nonexistent now, and she was feeling her way up the rock wall.

  Her arms were shaking by the time she got to the top and could feel the grass around the edge of the hole. She raised her leg, using it to lever herself out awkwardly. Panting, she looked around.

  Oh. My. God. Clouds were swirling as though caught in a twister. Lightning flashed among the fiercely spinning clouds, illuminating the dark strands of a lethal magic. The sea at the bottom of the cliff showed white peaks as the waves roiled and rolled, as though caught in Mother Nature’s washing machine. The wind was biting, and she had to bend forward to avoid being pushed back by its gale force.

  Marty had tried to blast Dave with a ball of power, and Dave was currently holding it off. Streams of dark red fire were swirling toward him, but she could see they were slowly getting closer to him. She forced one leg in front of the other, her arms up to protect her face from the wind whipping at her. Her shirt cracked like a sail caught in a thunderstorm, and she could feel the fabric tear.

  She had to help Dave.

  As though sensing her, Dave turned his head, his silver eyes bright in the darkness. “Go away,” he called to her.

  She shook her head. She summoned her power, raising her hands toward Marty. He noticed her, and braced one hand in her direction. She reeled back under the impact of the blast, but managed to stop the dark fire from consuming her.

  “Leave, Sully,” Dave roared, his focus now on the wit
ch.

  Sully slowly crept forward, gritting her teeth as she tried to find her wedge through the wall of power Marty had thrown up. Marty was able to keep them both at bay, and his eyes brightened when he realized this. He was strong...too strong. Tears filled Sully’s eyes at the realization.

  She couldn’t fight him off, not in a power struggle. His death magic was too powerful for her, and for Dave. A dark flame danced across her arm, and she screamed at the burn. Marty was going to kill them.

  Dave shifted toward her, protective to the last. An idea hit her. She dropped her shields and mentally reached out for Dave. She felt his surprise, his confusion and then his acceptance. He reached back for her, and she grasped his hand. Marty started to fade in her vision as shards of light transferred between her and Dave. Blues, pinks, purples, the spears of light brightened. She sent Dave a mental image, and he squeezed her hand. Together they started to recite a spell, the Old Language glowing across her vision, like a magical teleprompter.

  Marty frowned, wincing as his right hand started to glow. The force coming from him stuttered a little, then flicked on to high wattage, before stuttering again. Marty glanced down at his hand, turning it over. Sully and Dave continued to chant, but then spread their arms out, calling on the tempest around them, drawing in the elements—the wind buffeting them, the water crashing below them, the spark of lightning fire and the solid ground beneath them.

  Marty’s eyes widened when he saw the mark Sully had carved onto his hand when she’d thrown him in the cavern below. His gaze flicked to hers, and full comprehension dawned on him.

  “No,” he cried, trying to blast them away. Harnessing the power of the tempest, they rebuffed his attempt to incinerate them.

  The mark on his hand glowed, and his skin began to blister. His face roiled, and he screamed in pain as his bones melted into another’s features. First Jenny, then Susanne... Jack, Amanda, Mary Anne and Gary. Each time his face twisted, Marty screamed. He clutched at his skull, but the fire from within consumed him, his flesh melting as his bones turned to ash, plucked away in all directions by the wind.