Hell's Belle

by Marie Castle

  Brittan’s eyes were still suspicious, but at least she no longer looked like she wanted to deck someone. Risa could’ve released her, but the tiger had yet to loosen her grip.

  No one spoke, so Fera resumed her tale, gesturing toward Brittan. “The vampire fingered her as the sorcerer’s next target. We were going to watch, protect her from a distance, but they moved up their schedule. We pulled up and nearly hit her,” she pointed at Brittan, who was listening with rapt ears, “and her toy-sized scooter.”

  “It’s called a moped. Jeez, what century are you from? And what are you talking about? Sorcerer? Are you on something? You know you’re not supposed to eat the ’shrums that grow on those cow patties, right?” Brittan gave Fera the classic eye-roll and hair-toss. A blonde in action was a beautiful thing.

  Fera didn’t miss a beat. “The fifteenth century. Scooter, schmooter. It doesn’t matter what the bloody thing is called. It would still have been a pancake if I’d run it over. And I would never eat anything that grows on shit. Anywho, the girl pulled out into traffic like the demons of hell were after her. I don’t know if they were demons, but they were definitely big and ugly. I swerved and hit one. There was also one scary-looking dude hot on her trail.”

  Everyone opened their mouths, but Mynx waved her hand, answering the unasked question in a slightly nasal tone. “They weren’t Weres or hellhounds but something much bigger and meaner. I’ve never seen anything like them. They were almost reptilian with no fur and slitted eyes. You should see what they did to Fera’s cruiser.”

  Fera visibly flinched, and Mynx rubbed her arm. Ouch, running into a demonic beastie would be hard to explain to any insurance adjuster, even a Council one. “Fera said they looked like miniature blue T-Rexes, but we’ve been calling them raptors because they seem to hunt in packs.”

  Aunt Helena popped down the stairs. Like hot potatoes, Jacq’s hands dropped from my waist. I grinned. The twinkle-toed po-po didn’t feel so amorous when the family unit was around.

  I eyed Mynx’s puffy nose even as Aunt Helena took in our unexpected, bleeding guest, saying in a tone that brooked no argument, “Everybody to the kitchen. Now.” More gently, she said, “Come child,” grabbing from Risa’s arms a Brittan whose sarcasm had fled upon seeing the older, much smaller woman bossing around the seemingly giant warriors. Charge in tow, Aunt Helena stalked through the group, not waiting for anyone to follow.

  We were a tight fit, but all managed to move into the bright, airy room. I grabbed an ice pack and a tea towel, passed them to Mynx then moved toward the coffeemaker as Aunt Helena grabbed her black bag and headed for Brittan.

  But we all stopped and stood still when Fera said, “Coffee’s good. I figure we have a few hours to kill before those raptor marauders follow the blonde one’s scent right to your doorstep.” Fera smiled, shaking her cup in my general direction. “Cream and sugar, please.” Her charming, carefree self was back and in fine form.

  I just shook my head and moved to finish my task. It would be a miracle if that woman didn’t give us all whiplash.

  * * *

  “I’m going to need a sword.”

  I’d just finished looking through our weapons stash when Brittan approached with her request. I looked up from the steel blade that I was wiping down. Freshly showered, Brittan looked earnest and more than a little pissed. My first response was to tell her no, but I hesitated. I understood her insistence. Technically, it was her butt we were protecting. From the stormy looks passing between her and Risa, it was obvious they’d already had a similar discussion.

  “Do you know how to use a sword?” I gestured to the row I’d picked through. Earlier, we’d played a game of I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. As it turned out, the tigers had been packing an impressive amount of firepower. Silly me, thinking “didn’t have time to unpack from the move” included the grenades and semi-automatics. I was pretty sure one or two of the weapons they were carrying were illegal in this country.

  I’d never thought of Becca as a fighter, but she’d also had a healthy amount of guns and battle gear. She’d changed out of her nice suit and into leather almost eagerly. The Wolf Second was spoiling for a fight. It was too bad that Luke was still conked out. I was pretty sure that if he saw how hot Becca looked in the tight black leather pants, vest and guns, he’d have her wedded, bedded and with cub before she could click the safety off.

  However, even with all of those guns, knives, grenades and one flame-thrower (thankfully empty of gas), none of the Weres had swords, and they didn’t seem convinced that their larger munitions wouldn’t work on the demonic beasts we continued to call raptors for lack of a better word. After some persuasion—and much cajoling with sugary snacks—they’d agreed to use the swords…but only if their guns failed to perform. They might not be shooting blanks, but I’d assured them that if the raptors were anything like the hellhounds, nothing short of a rocket launcher would do. When I’d asked if they had one of those packed away, the twins had given me a funny look. Rom had answered in all seriousness that they’d left it at home. He’d also added, with a smirk, that they’d be sure to bring it next visit. I’d made a mental note to buy more doughnuts, just in case.

  “I can use a sword…probably better than Twiddledum and Twiddledee over there.” Brittan gestured at the tigers, who were looking at a rough map Jacq had drawn of the house and surrounding area. There was enough time to relocate, but if we went into the city, the raptors and the sorcerer leading them would follow. A few well-placed calls had found that the raptors had been spotted several times and that Fera was right.

  They were headed this way.

  The Council’s spinners had quickly attributed the accidents to a pack of wild dogs straying into the road. The Council could get away with that because humans only saw what they wanted to see. But for once, I was glad for the Council’s PR machine. People had a tendency to do stupid things when they were scared, which was why we were staying put. The raptors were now making their way here through the sparsely populated woods. The last thing we needed was for them to follow us into the city and cause widespread panic.

  But we also couldn’t stay holed up inside the house, nice and comfy, while the raptors rammed themselves to death on the wards. There were too many attackers for the shielding to handle. If they acted en masse, the wards would eventually fail, and there was no way I was letting those things inside to dig up my garden and get more blood all over the grass. It took forever to clean up the gore made by only two hellhounds.

  But the selfish need to preserve my yard wasn’t my main reason for taking the fight to our enemies. Our goal was to have Brittan and Aunt Helena stay within the wards, safe, while we went to meet the “marauders.”

  I slid my now gleaming sword into its sheath, laid it across a nearby chair, and pulled one of my favorite blades from the rack. It was the perfect length for someone my height. It also wasn’t a practice weapon. I passed Brittan the sword, doubting my sanity. “Let me see you use it. But try not to bust my nose—I don’t heal as quickly as Mynx. And the blade’s sharp, so don’t cut yourself. Blood stains the floors…and I hate to clean.”

  Brittan smiled, chagrined. We’d been ribbing her for bloodying her would-be savior. But I wasn’t joking. I was all cleaned out. I might just leave the next person to bleed on my floors to die there. A shiver ran down my spine, and I swung my blade, trying to warm up.

  “I’ll be gentle, but I make no promises regarding anyone else.” Brittan watched Risa with a gleam in her eye. It was the kind of gleam that said she was looking for a tussle.

  I smiled, remembering. I’d looked in my bathroom mirror the night I’d met Jacq and seen that same look in my own eyes.

  “Here.” Reaching into my shirt, I pulled an active suppression amulet from around my neck and threw it to Brittan. She caught it midair, nearly dropping the wooden disk as she immediately felt its effects. “I wouldn’t want you to lose because you were distracted.” At her questioning look, I
quickly explained the Weres’ phers. She gave me a grateful smile and put the amulet around her neck, tucking it under the blue T she’d borrowed from me. Its color nearly matched her streaked hair.

  We took off our shoes. I removed my gun harness, hooked it on the chair, and patted my pockets. Normally full of amulets and throwing stars, they were currently empty, which was a good thing. If I took a tumble, sharp discs slicing into my flesh wouldn’t be too comfortable. A quick final check showed that except for the amulets I was magic-less…at least externally. We moved to the indoor sparring mats.

  * * *

  My mother had taught me to never underestimate an opponent. It seemed that I needed a refresher, because Brittan caught me off guard with her skill and speed. We circled each other, almost gently testing the other’s defenses. Things quickly sped up as I realized her proficiency. Parry. Thrust. Lunge. I would advance. She would advance. The fighting began more like a warmup with neither of us sweating. Then it changed…As if a switch had been flipped, Brittan suddenly became fearsome. I’d been expecting it. The blonde had something to prove, and people with a cause were often dangerous in their single-mindedness.

  Brittan stalked me around the floor, her face grim. Our swords clashed with more and more force. We both grunted as one blow’s jarring power went up our arms. After narrowly redirecting a quick thrust, I realized too late that it was merely a feint. My right arm overextended. Brittan stepped in close, reversing her sword’s direction, moving the blade vertical. She brought her hilt down on my wrist, pulling the punch at the last second. The blow wasn’t hard, but it hit a nerve perfectly. My hand went numb, and my sword dropped with a muffled clang. At the same time she caught me with a leg sweep, knocking me off balance. I landed in an inelegant heap, my bottom breaking my fall. For a moment, I lay there, strangely pleased and unsurprised by the turn of events.

  “That was a cheap shot.” I rubbed my hand and smiled.

  It was a good move, and we both knew it. No traditional sensei would’ve allowed it, but when it came to survival, those who fought dirty were—as my mom would say—less likely to pull a Humpty Dumpty and need putting together again. I liked this girl more and more. Brittan simply shrugged and smiled back.

  Rom and Risa were talking to Jacq, who was openly watching me. Raising her eyebrows, she looked at my wrist. I shook my head. Brittan looked from Jacq to the twins, whose strangely colored heads were still bent over their map, and finally to me.

  “So you and the detective…you’re an item?”

  Brit’s question surprised me. I couldn’t read my own feelings, but apparently someone who’d known me for less than two hours could. Was it any wonder my jealous ex had gone ballistic on Jacq the night before?

  I sighed. How could I explain something I didn’t know? “You’re going to have to take a rain check on the answer to that. It’s time to go.” I stood, rubbing my aching backside, and moved off the mats. “Rematch another day?”

  “It’s a deal.” Brittan smiled. “But just so you know, I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

  I looked at her for a moment, narrowing my eyes. She had a street fighter’s gumption and a samurai’s sleek efficiency. And after our initial explanation of the situation, she hadn’t seemed too freaked out. I let my magic barely peek past my shields, scanning her. Magic faintly buzzed around her as if she were almost something but not quite. Curiouser and curiouser.

  “At least it wasn’t your nose,” Mynx said with a grin. She and Fera had returned during the match. Her voice had already lost its nasal quality.

  “Hearty-har-har-har.” I stuck my tongue out. “Maybe I should’ve been more specific in my list of ‘don’ts.’ If I’d said, ‘don’t throw me on my ass,’ then I’d be okay.” My tone may not have reflected my enthusiasm at Mynx’s reminder.

  “No, then she would’ve thrown you on your head.” Mynx tapped her chin. “Actually, that might have worked better…considering how hard it is.”

  Laughing, I moved to where I’d left my weapons. Traveling light, I looked fondly at my utility belt but left it in the chair. Then I pulled the spare sword from its sheath, checked its blade and balance once more, before encasing it again. I had barely fastened the sword’s harness around my waist when Jacq approached.

  “Are you all right?” Her voice was as whiskey-smooth as ever, but her eyes twinkled and her lips twitched. She was dying to laugh but was restraining herself. Someone was learning. Smiling in thanks, I grabbed her offered towel and wiped the sweat from my neck. Jacq smiled back.

  “It’s nothing that a hot soak later won’t fix.” At her smoldering look, I added with a cheeky grin, “Alone.” I waited for my heart to speed up and my face to flush, but Jacq’s subsequent laugh only brought a warm sensation to my chest. When had we become so comfortable that I could tease her about sex without blushing? I wasn’t sure, but it was nice. I’d never really indulged in this light-hearted, innuendo-filled banter. It healed something inside me. Something I hadn’t realized was broken.

  Warmth zinged across my aching rear. “Cut that out!” Jumping in unexpected pleasure, I slapped at Jacq’s roaming hand. Looking to see if anyone had noticed, I caught Mynx’s eye. She winked. This time, I did blush.

  But Jacq was unrepentant. She leaned down, whispering in my ear, “I just want to make you feel…” She hesitated, and my mind reeled, mentally finishing her sentence a dozen times over. Her breath was warm on my ear as she added, “ready…for what’s coming.”

  “I am,” I said, referring to the upcoming fight. I turned, brushing her warm arm with my hand. Each time our magic touched, I could feel her. I knew the desire and affection showing in Jacq’s eyes were more than skin-deep…and that her worry for me was a dangerous distraction. “Thank you. I’m less sore already.” My hand momentarily lingered, held by her fingers. Then Risa called her name, and Jacq turned away.

  I moved to the tack area, grabbed a spare sheath that slung across the back, then headed toward Brittan, who was sipping water and staring pensively at the sword in her hand. Risa glared at us from across the room.

  “You might want to put that up before you’re tempted to gut a certain tiger.” Brittan tried to pass me the sword, but I held up my hand. “No, put it in the sheath and put it on. I made a promise.” I passed her the leather sheath then helped her adjust the straps. “You’ve more than proved your skill with a blade.” She looked surprised…and embarrassed. Had no one ever complimented her skill? Before Brittan could misunderstand, I added, “But this doesn’t change anything. I need you to stay inside.” At her exasperated look, I continued, “It’s going to be a magic free-for-all out there. Not to mention the Weres with their dumb-ass pistols.”

  Her eyes glazed, as if she’d heard it all before. No doubt she had. Risa had been dogging her steps for hours. “I can hold my own.”

  I cinched up another strap then gave her a once-over. Brittan had pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her jeans had been ripped in a fashionable way, but the holes also allowed more freedom of movement. Clever.

  I laughed softly. “Trust me, I know. You just finished kicking my ass, remember?” I rubbed my backside with an exaggerated grimace. She laughed too, and we shared a smile. Brittan had a nice smile. I could see why Risa was so taken. I didn’t have lustful feelings for her, but I felt a connection. Like I’d felt to Becca and even hearing about Isabella Richmond.

  A low growl came from the corner. Oh yeah, Risa was a goner. Brittan gave her a look of pure consternation. No doubt Brittan had been told she would be a liability in a fight. And she would. I couldn’t sugarcoat that. The others would be busy protecting the Weres from the sorcerer’s magic. They couldn’t also protect Brittan. But she didn’t need to hear that again. She was a fighter. A survivor, if I wasn’t mistaken. She needed a goal. A purpose. She needed a reason to stay inside that didn’t have to do with her own safety. I had that feeling again—as if this was going to change everything—but I carried on, unable to see how a few
words might affect anything more than a hurt girl’s spirit.

  Smiling, I turned Brittan toward a mirror we used when weight training, hoping I had read my audience correctly. “How’s that look?” My change of subject threw her. Confused, Brittan sheathed then unsheathed the sword, testing its resistance. She nodded her approval then began to undo the straps. My hands stilled hers. I redid the buckles. “Keep it. The sword, the sheath—they’re yours.”

  “I couldn’t.” Brittan sighed, pulling the harness over her head. “I won’t owe anyone, anything.”

  The again was left unspoken, but I heard it, nevertheless.

  Everyone has a security blanket. They just came in different forms. I could tell Brittan wanted to keep the sword. She needed to keep it. But she wasn’t going to allow herself to. And I wouldn’t force her. I’d been in her shoes once. Brittan held the sword out, balanced across her palms.

  “Why would you give something like this to someone you’d just met?”

  I took the sheathed weapon and examined the leather, sliding the shining blade out. “You know, my grandfather made this case.” After all these years, the brown hide was still smooth and supple. “His brother forged and folded the steel. It was necessary in those days.” The flawless blade—still strong and sharp—felt nearly weightless. “It was hard to explain the purchase of swords in the post-Civil War period. They were good men who worked hard and lived long lives.” The runes etched into the steel were still clear, untouched by time. Her brows drew down at the timeframe. “Witches live long lives. Our generations are more spread out than those of humans. But to answer your question…this has been in my family for a long time. It’s precious. Some might consider it valuable. But it’s still just a thing, and that’s never worth more than a life. My mother taught me that.” I pushed the sword back into its home, passing it back as I’d received it—balanced across my palms. I held it there, waiting for its new owner to take possession.