The Witchkin Murders

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  Kayla rubbed the wrist of her now free hand where she usually wore the silver band. She chewed her upper lip, lost in thought.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Me, either, but we have to stay in our lane. Let the experts do what they do.”

  She sighed but didn’t argue further.

  A quarter of an hour ticked past, then half, then a whole. Still no signs of any problems from the lab. Kayla was growing impatient, as was the rest of the crowd. The drizzle had stopped and her hood had fallen back. She paced, tapping her fingers against her thighs. The same urgency to return punched at Ray’s kidneys. He made himself stand still.

  After an hour and a half, Kayla had had enough.

  “I’m going back,” she declared and headed back to the street.

  Ray strode after her, dodging around clusters of nervous employees as they gossiped about what might be happening. He overtook her at the sidewalk.

  Back at the lab building, security had extended the perimeter to the outskirts of the campus. The same guard who’d told them Kayla wasn’t official stopped them.

  “Can’t go inside,” she said, her dark eyes steely, her shoulders squared. “Best just turn around and go on about your business.”

  Kayla’s only acknowledgment was a quick glance before she fixed her attention back on the lab building, leaving Ray to deal with the guard.

  “I need to borrow your phone,” he told the guard.

  She got a look on her face that said he could kiss her ass. “No,” was her flat response.

  Ray fought the urge to tear her a new asshole. She was just doing her job, and anyway, he could catch more flies with honey.

  “The evacuation is because of our case,” he told her in a confidential voice, as if letting her in on a secret. “One of the bodies had something inside it, something magical. Dr. Cordone was calling in the technomage and a witch. It’s imperative we find out if they are okay, and what was in the body. Lives depend upon it,” he said.

  Leveling a look at her, he went for the right hook. “You know how this is, Officer Zuniga,” he said, reading her name from her name tag. “Cops like us don’t get to run away from danger. Our job is to get in its way. Our job is to fight evil no matter what form it takes.”

  Even as a pride straightened her spine and swelled her chest, Ray couldn’t help feeling disgusted at himself. Not for the words or for the way he used them to elicit her cooperation, but for the fact that by ignoring crimes against witchkin, he’d let evil thrive. He could do better. He should do better.

  He’d won over Officer Zuniga. She took her phone out of a leather pouch on her belt and handed it to him.

  Ray typed in the number for the morgue’s switchboard, then tapped Angie’s extension. It rang several times, and he began to think she wasn’t going to pick up.

  “Cordone,” she said in a clipped voice.

  “This is Ray. What’s going on?”

  “Wondered how long you’d wait. It’s still not safe.”

  “I don’t get paid to stay safe.”

  “Maybe not, but I get paid to make sure my employees don’t end up dead because of the job.”

  “Good thing I’m not one of your employees then,” Ray said. “We’re coming back in. Tell Officer Zuniga we’re cleared.” He didn’t wait for Angie’s response, but passed the phone back.

  “Zuniga here.”

  The security officer nodded a couple times, said “yes ma’am,” and then hung up. She looked at Ray. “Follow me.”

  Much as he wanted to, Ray couldn’t tell Zuniga to stay put. He had a pretty good feeling if she didn’t go, he and Kayla weren’t going either.

  They started across the wide stretch of lawn and trees surrounding the building. Zuniga spoke into the microphone on her shoulder, notifying someone that she was escorting them in. When they entered the central spindle, Kayla halted.

  “I need the stuff I left with security,” she said, looking at Ray. “We’ll be safer if I have my things,” she added.

  It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Something in her belongings helped her to transform. She wanted that capability in case something went wrong. He looked at Zuniga who just shrugged and took them over to a set of wall bins, each marked with a picture. Ray found his and Kayla’s pictures on the far-left side. They must’ve been taken when they came through the scanner.

  They both collected their belongings and made their way down to the lab where they’d left Angie and the nymph.

  She met them at the doors. “Come inside, but keep back.”

  Ray scanned the scene inside. Logan stood next to the nymph, staring down at her stomach which had tripled in size. The skin now stretched obscenely over whatever was inside. Lumpy knots moved beneath the surface. Beside Logan was a young blond woman—at least she appeared young. Witches didn’t age past the point of age 21 or so. For all he knew, she could be an octogenarian or older. It occurred to him that Theresa Runyon was no spring chicken, and neither was her daughter. Illusion? He certainly hadn’t grown younger since he’d turned into a witch.

  He tucked the question away for later, and continued his examination.

  Like most witches, this one was slender to the point of being skinny. The hazard of the craft he’d heard. Magic required a lot of energy, and a lot of calories. Her sun-bleached hair hung to her shoulders. Magic swirled in the room thick and syrupy. It called to Ray, summoning his own to the surface.

  The witch’s eyes snapped up, and she stared at him. He stared back, expressionless. Most of the time he stayed far enough away from witches that they didn’t recognize he was one of them. The rest of the time he kept his power tamped down. That seemed to keep them from noticing. Either that or it was general courtesy that witches didn’t out one another.

  After a moment, her gaze dropped back down to the corpse and she said something under her breath to Logan. The technomage shook his head. She rolled her eyes and then turned to face him, putting her hands on his shoulder and shoving hard. Caught off balance, Logan stumbled away. Instantly a silver shield rose up around the corpse and the witch, sealing them both inside.

  Logan swore and slapped his hands against the shield. Power knocked him flying. He smashed against the cabinet and dropped to the floor like a sack of onions, leaving dents in the stainless steel. Kayla made a sound and sprinted over to him.

  Hot jealousy boiled up inside Ray. He hauled back on it, but it bubbled up through whatever control he had. He snarled, unaware he’d made a sound until Angie put a hand on his arm.

  “Down, boy,” she said. She patted his arm, and then went to join Kayla.

  Ray sucked in a couple of breaths, forcing himself to calm the fuck down, glaring at the technomage who now sat up. Angie examined his eyes, and Kayla held one hand and looked at the back of his head.

  Ray tore his gaze away. No reason to torture himself by watching them together. Instead he watched the witch.

  The stomach of the nymph continued to move. Magic coalesced around the witch’s fingers, and she pressed them against the swollen, undulating flesh.

  Light flared bright orange, and the witch screamed, the sound agonized.

  Ray leaped forward, unable to see inside the shield, which had turned opaque. Magic leaped eagerly inside him, and without stopping to consider what had happened to Logan, he smashed his hands into the shield, releasing a bolt of energy.

  The shield crumbled away, the released power whipping through the lab like frantic electric eels.

  Ignoring the lashing pain, Ray dove toward the witch. She lay on the floor, bleeding profusely from a hash of gouges across her face and body. Standing on top of her and on either side were three creatures, vaguely dog like, but with armored bodies and clawed hands at the
end of their serpentine tails. Blood dripped from their maws and ran down their chests. More coated their other four clawed paw-hands. As he watched, one chomped into the witch’s shoulder with his teeth and yanked, twisting and clawing to get the flesh to separate.

  She whimpered, clearly on the verge of unconsciousness. Ray clapped his hands around the beast’s thickly armored neck and unleashed a bolt of energy. Red light flashed. The demon dog made a high-pitched sound and reared away, twisting out of Ray’s grip. He kicked at the others to knock them away as he swung the wounded witch into his arms.

  Robbed of their prey, the creatures leaped at Ray. Dagger-teeth knifed into his thighs and ass. He tried to shake them off, but they hung on. Suddenly an electric whip snapped, coiling around the one on his ass. The beast fell away, and the stench of burning fur filled his nose. Two more snaps and the other two fell off. One of the whips caught Ray on the calf, and fire seared through his leg. He dropped to his knees, the nerves in his legs giving out along with the muscles.

  Kayla and Angie grabbed him and pulled him upright. They dragged him toward the door. Zuniga punched the automatic-open button. It didn’t work. She kicked the seam of the doors, and they swung open a few inches.

  Ray careened toward escape, holding the bleeding witch clutched against his chest. Blood bubbled from between her lips. Behind he could hear more screeches as Logan held off the ravenous beasts.

  Zuniga shoved the doors wider and Ray burst through, followed quickly by Kayla and Angie and a moment later, Logan. The door slid shut, and Logan threw up a shield to keep the beasts inside. Three thuds hit the reinforced windows, shattering them. The beasts stood on their hind legs howling and snarling, unable to break through Logan’s barrier. They’d grown to the size of Great Danes.

  “Get out of here!” Logan yelled. “I don’t know how long I can hold them!”

  Ray staggered as fast as he could toward the exit, trying not to jostle the injured witch. If she didn’t get help and quickly, she’d bleed out.

  Angie ran beside him, her face gray, her lips pinched tight. Blood soaked through Ray’s jeans where he’d been bitten. The wounds burned as if full of acid and sent streaks of fire to his toes and up through his chest.

  He cursed himself for knowing so little magic that he couldn’t perform even a basic healing spell. Hell, he didn’t even know if a basic healing spell was even a thing. All he knew was he didn’t know how to stop the witch’s bleeding and he should. Goddamn, but he should know enough to be able to do some first aid! And not just for her, but himself.

  But then he’d have to let people see what he was. What had Angie, Kayla, Zuniga, or Logan been able to see when he’d gone to help the witch? He’d been on the opposite side of the shield, so likely they hadn’t seen him break through, but they could have seen his attack on the demon dog.

  He didn’t feel his leg give way, and only realized he was no longer standing when he hit the floor. The witch made a whimpering sound as they crashed down together. Ray rolled aside to get off her, but his brain seemed disconnected from his trunk, and he made a wheezing sound and barely moved.

  “Shit! Get him up!”

  Kayla and Officer Zuniga hooked hands under his armpits and tried to pull him erect. He tried to help get up, but had no feeling anymore in his legs. They let go of him.

  Kayla swore. “Stand back,” she ordered. “Zach! Get your ass down here! I’ll handle the beasts. You take care of Ray and the witch.”

  She had gone for years without exposing her secret, and now she was not only going to transform, she was gonna do it in front of witnesses. Angie and Logan might keep her secret, but Zuniga was bound to shout it from the rooftops.

  The fact that Kayla had already exposed herself on the Island didn’t matter. No one but Raven and the dryads had known her in her human form. He doubted anybody had gotten a good look at her before she’d plunged into the water, so her secret remained safe. If she shifted now, the entire city would likely know before sundown.

  Ray told her to stop, not to do it. There had to be another way. Or at least he tried to. The words came out garbled. Then it was too late.

  A burst of magic rolled over him followed by a sweep of damp air across his cheeks. Angie made a strangled sound, and Officer Zuniga yelped. Ray heard the sound of claws on the floor and the scrape of scales as Kayla ran back up the hall to the lab.

  Then he was scooped up in a shroud of magic. The walls and overhead lights rushed past as Angie and Logan hauled him and the witch out at a run.

  Ray wanted to demand that they stop, that they go back and help Kayla. Everything inside him howled in fear for her. The magic inside him roared, burning at the insides of his skin. Something in the bites from the creatures kept it contained.

  The last thing he remembered was a shrill, unearthly shriek before he fell unconscious.

  Chapter 17

  Kayla

  KAYLA ACTIVATED the silver band on her wrist. Water sluiced up from nowhere, drenching her in a spinning geyser. She summoned the shift, wanting it like she had never wanted it before. In the blink of an eye she turned, her body expanding and lengthening. Paying no attention to Angie or Officer Zuniga, she whirled, her body flowing in a serpentine back to the autopsy room.

  Her claws gouged chunks in the concrete floor as she hurled herself down the corridor. Zach stood with his back to her, power rolling from his hands to create an electric barrier. The beasts inside flung themselves at the wall of energy, snarling and screeching with frustration and pain.

  As she came abreast of the technomage, Kayla hooked her tail around his waist and thrust him back behind her. She crouched, her tail snaking back and forth as she prepared to attack. She heard Zach’s footsteps as he ran in the opposite direction. Dear God, let him be able to save Ray. That was her last coherent thought before the predator inside took over.

  The mage’s energy wall thinned and turned to tatters and sparks. The creatures torpedoed through as if they’d been launched from a gun. They’d grown even larger, and each was now the size of a llama, with thick heavy jaws.

  They pounced on Kayla, ripping and shredding with all five claws. Razor teeth pierced through her scales. Kayla crashed against the cinder block wall, knocking two creatures away. She picked one up and flung it back into the lab. It crashed into a table and let loose a shrill keening sound. She grabbed another in her teeth before it could reattach itself. She shook it viciously and then slammed it to the floor. It squalled and bounced back up on its feet. The one still attached to her back snapped and chomped at her spine, trying to break through her tough scales.

  She flexed them, each ridge rippling upward into a carpet of diamond-sharp knives. The beast squealed, its grip loosening. She twisted and rolled her body, shaking the creature free. She whirled and smashed it with her tail. It flew across the lab and crashed into the cabinets above the sinks.

  The other two leaped at her again, one fastening itself to her throat, the other diving at her eyes. She thrashed, crushing one between her skull and the wall while clawing away the other.

  Fire burned where their teeth had pierced. Acid dripped into her veins. She shook herself and roared before rocketing into the lab. She forgot who she was. She remembered only the need to protect and kill. She snatched one of the creatures in her toothy maw, crunching down and flinging it against the wall.

  It lay only a moment before springing back to its feet, its twisted limbs straightening, its wounds vanishing. Before she could do anything else, the creatures raced passed her, escaping down the hallway. She whirled to follow, leaping up over the gurneys.

  She was fast, but they were faster. They streaked away, disappearing around a corner. By the time she got there, they had ripped apart the door leading into the main lobby, shredding the steel to confetti with their claws.

  She chased them, but her body h
ad grown sluggish and awkward. She staggered against the wall, then clawed her way through the door and into the spindle. She could see no sign of the creatures or her companions. She stopped, turning her head to search. The overwhelming scents of blood and the pungent odor of the three creatures smothered her senses.

  She scuttled toward the nearest escape, pausing on the threshold to look outside. Far across the lawn she could see Angie, Zach, and Officer Zuniga. Zach kneeled beside Ray, while Angie worked on the witch.

  As she watched, the ground began to shudder and tilt. Her insides felt as though they were turning to liquid. Cramps rolled down her body in fierce waves. Instinct told her to run, to find a safe place. She needed water.

  She didn’t try to hide. She lurched toward the river, following the most direct path. People screamed and ran, some leaping out of cars to get out of her way. She clambered over vehicles and bumbled through intersections with no heed for safety.

  She just wanted—needed—water.

  She hardly noticed when someone took potshots at her. The bullets ricocheted away. Dizziness made it difficult to see and stay upright. She staggered like a drunk, bouncing off buildings and trees. She tripped over a curb and fell onto her stomach. It took far more effort than it should have to lift herself up again. Her muscles had grown lethargic and stupid. She couldn’t feel the bottoms of her feet or the end of her tail. The latter dragged behind her like a ratty rope.

  The closer she drew to the river, the slower she went. Crowds of humans and witchkin gathered to watch her in breathless fear. Stupid. But then obviously she wasn’t a particular threat. Her head swung side to side with ponderous effort as she dragged herself along. Her legs shook and violent shudders coruscated through her body.

  In the dim recesses of her conscious mind Kayla knew she was dying. The creatures had poisoned her. So much for being a big bad monster. Pride goeth before the fall, and damned but she was falling hard.