by Ware Wilkins
Today, though...
I point to Abe to go first. As soon as he’s through the door, I open the one to David, spell already resting on my tongue, eager to be unleashed. Tucked deep inside is a rational version of me, but the magic and the need for vengeance is stronger and mutes it. A push of power from my hand and the door slams wide.
There’s nothing in the room except a table with a tape player on it.
It’s rolling with David’s voice.
That’s when I hear the scuffle and whirl around. David is behind Abe, gun to his temple. “Well, aren’t you a clever witch?”
Respect feels heavy and eager in my hand. “You should step away from the Sheriff, David. I’m not feeling very charitable right now.”
“And making threats, too? Color me impressed. But you must think I’m kidding around.” He steps back and aims the gun lower, pulling the trigger before I can react. It’s not as noisy as I expect, but red blooms on Abe’s front and he falls to his knees, fingers pressed to the wound. “I skipped his spine, but that bullet definitely tagged his liver. He’s in for an excruciating last few minutes of death.”
Rage explodes black inside of me, like the magic was gasoline soaking into me and the gunshot ignited it. There’s no cool words, no catch phrases. No time for anything but reaction to a cataclysmic action. I’m racing toward David, my feet launching each step, bat already hefted up and prepared to swing.
He smiles and maybe it’s because I’m a small woman he’s managed to cow so far. He has a gun and I have a baseball bat. I’m honed in, though, siphoning magic into my hungry weapon. He braces to dodge my swing and I push some magic into my feet, rocketing me forward faster than humanly possible.
David can’t dodge. He doesn’t even have time for a look of surprise before my bat hits home on his side. The connection of magically-imbued wood and flesh is harder than I’d imagine, and I feel the impact in my elbows and shoulders.
Then he’s flying, hurled by the force of my strike. His body crashes outside, skipping and rolling like he was tossed off a motorcycle. He lays like a limp noodle and my own body sags.
I’ve depleted the tooth. Whatever it came from, it had come with a ton of juice, but no bone is infinite. My muscles ache and scream in protest. This isn’t coming down from magic: it’s crashing. Hard.
But I don’t care. Instead, I rush over to Abe. His skin is pale and waxy. Beneath him is a too-large puddle of blood. His chest is only moving a little with breath. I’m too tired to scoop him up, even, so I lay beside him and press my face to his chest. The heartbeat there is pitiful and I sob, because this is my fault. I should have just run with him.
“Hey,” he wheezes. “I still owe you a kiss.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I mumble into his chest. It’s too cold.
“Don’t suppose you could magic me better?”
As if hearing his words, the teeth flare to life in my pocket, heating to the point I wonder if they’ll burn through the denim. “Yes! I might be able to.” I reach in and grab them—all nine—and consume them. There’s no time for doubt or to question the intelligence of it. My body is moving on its own, following my heart and muting my brain.
Sweet Jesus.
I scream from the rush. There’s no way to understand what’s happening to my body. This isn’t just euphoric. I’m in rapture, jerking and writhing. It feels as if I’m stuck in a bubble of nothing but this energy, stroking and milking me until I’m incoherent.
Finally, shuddering, I wrangle some measure of control over myself. This amount of magic isn’t something I can hold on to. It needs out and it needs out now.
“Abe,” I say and feel a tremor when I hear my voice. It’s layered, as if someone else is inside of me. I suppose, in a way, that’s true, if I just absorbed nine different essences. “Hold on.”
I touch him and wait for the words to come to me. But despite the throbbing, desperate desire to spend this magic, there’s no spell.
I don’t know how to save someone this wounded. He’s on the brink of death, his heart beginning to skip beats under my palms. I can feel his pain and, oh god, it’s immense, and the best I can do is siphon some of it into myself.
That’s when a hand yanks me from Abe, throwing me like a twig across the ground. The pavement rips into my skin in a hundred different places, but the magic pulses out to keep me cushioned for the most part. No broken bones. That I can feel, at least.
Rolling to hands and knees, I look up and hiss. David is standing next to Abe, a horrible grin on his face. His teeth, the few that remain, glint in the moonlight. His eyes are flared and glowing. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble, witch.”
He lifts his shirt and I can see the crushed, mangled remains of his side where the bat had hit. Then he digs another packet from his pocket and snorts it. “I never should have tangled with your lot. Now I’m dead and this magic is the only thing keeping me going.”
“You’re—” I cough, and start to stand. My skin burns from the road rash and I’m without Respect, but he doesn’t know I’m brimming with more power than I know what to do with.
You need it to save Abe. A spell will come, but it’s going to take all the mojo you’ve got. Instinctually, I know this is true. I know I’ll need all of it, but if I push deep enough, I can save Abe. If I can get to him in time.
But there’s a zombie in front of me. His eyes are already glossing over as he slips into a mindless killing machine. Unlike the undead in movies, zombies raised by necromancers actually have enhanced speed and unbelievable dexterity. No rigor mortis here, folks, and he won’t feel it if he pulls a muscle or snaps a ligament.
His head jerks away, though, gaze to the mountains.
Then I hear it, too.
Howls. Many of them, rich and bone-chilling in the night air. From the trees huge, lean wolves race toward us, snarling and snapping. David reaches down and hauls up Respect.
“No!” I scream. There’s five of them, but this is a magically-enhanced zombie with a bat that seeks to do damage. The wolves are zeroed in on the kill, though, and don’t hear me.
To my horror, a sleek, silver one leaps through the air, jaw aimed for David’s throat. He swings, so fast I can barely track the movement, and it connects. A gut-twisting yelp pierces the air and the wolf is batted aside, its body bouncing and crunching. The other wolves slow, suddenly wary of this new prey. What they can’t understand is, unless they take his head off, their bites are useless.
David knows this and starts laughing. It’s a paper thin, harsh sound. “Come and get it, puppies.”
He swings and a wolf almost dodges, but the bat clips its hind leg. Whining, it backs away quickly, dragging the leg. Panic is building like static with me and, while I have no love for the pack, I can’t watch them get beaten to death. I have to choose between saving them and Abe.
Has he ever had to make this kind of choice? In his line of work, was there ever a moment where he had to choose between one and the many? It’s hard to believe, in a town as small as Grimloch, that that’s the case, but then again, I didn’t know we needed a forensic dentist until this week.
Abraham Murray. He was the high school hero and the town’s trusted enforcer. Always chipper, always kind, even when giving tickets. I know what choice he’d make, and so I’ll make it for him, even if I hate it.
These words come easy. Bone magic, it seems, prefers destruction over creation. The magic hadn’t wanted to save his life, but it sure as hell wants to end David’s. I let it, allowing it to take over my mouth, my body. I spit the spell, lacing it with as much hate and animosity as I can. I can feel the other magic user’s force manipulating David’s body and for a brief moment, it’s me pitted against them.
But I just absorbed nine teeth and he snorted powder laced with, I assume, some reanimation magic. There’s no match. Nine teeth in the moment versus magically infused bone powder? Nine teeth win, hands down.
The wolves step back as his body begins to smoke. He’s s
till looking at them, laughing and swinging wild, unaware of the change. Then his skin begins to bubble and David drops the bat, holding up his hands, curious and then horrified. Flames burst and lick at him. They’re brighter than normal fire, glowing with the magic that created them, and soon they rage over his entire body, eating, eating, eating.
My lips don’t stop moving until there’s nothing but ash.
Drained, I sink to my knees. My only wish now is to let it be over so the grief for Abe, which feels worse than the withdrawal from the magic, can fill me. Instead, though, the wolves turn on me. Their snarls pierce my dulled mind and I’m too tired to fight back.
I’m not sure I want to fight back.
Before they can attack, a slim, muscular figure dressed in black, pale skin flashing in the moonlight, is standing in front of me. A small seed of relief is able to sprout amidst all my sorrow.
Benji.
“She just saved your lives,” he snarls, and it’s a different voice than I’ve heard Benji use in the past. Deeper and harder. There’s no frivolity, no teasing. He sounds like the monster he is, and I’m glad for it. “You will not harm her. You owe her a debt of life. Two, even, since both Henry and Vincent will recover.”
The largest wolf is colored like Alec and, based on size and the way the others defer to him, I can only assume it is Alec. He steps forward and Benji lowers himself into a fighting stand. “Don’t be stupid. You can smell me and know who’ll win.”
I’ve been close enough to smell Benji on a few occasions. There isn’t much of a smell there, actually, though he occasionally wears cologne. I don't know what smell he's referring to, but Alec seems to know, because he stops advancing forward. It's good enough. I don't see Alec as a back down kind of guy.
We're at a draw. Benji and Alec are staring each other down and if I wasn't wrung so dry, I'd worry more. Instead, though, there's only one thing on my mind.
“Abe's dying,” I say, voice cracking from the lump in my throat. “I want to be with him, please.”
There's a tense moment where I don't think they'll let me, but then Alec's large form moves to the side. I stand on my own and, with painful difficulty, make my way over to Abe.
David hasn't lied when he said dying would be painful and drawn out. Abe's wheezing faintly, but his muscles are corded and taut as the wound steals life from him.
Dropping to my knees, I let the tears come. They're raw. The kind of ugly crying you never want anyone to witness. “I’m so sorry, Abe.” I curl up beside him. “This is my fault.”
He’s too far gone to reply. Benji kneels beside me and checks his pulse. “He’s lost too much blood. I can’t save him.” I don’t know what that means, but I appreciate that Benji considered it.
Henry’s voice comes from behind me. “I can try, if you’ll let me.” He moves to Abe’s front, standing next to Benji. “I can bite him. Turn him. See if he’s still alive enough to recover.” Henry had done the same for Nash, when he’d found him in the woods. The perfect beta, full of compassion and hope.
“Please,” I sob. “Please.”
He shifts again while Benji comes to lift me up and hold me. “You don’t have to watch this.”
But I do, because if I’d just ignored what I knew was a terrible idea, Abe would be alive. Instead, I’d let the magic claim me, and now I was going to lose the only man I’d ever dreamed of.
It’s savage. There’s no way around that. I had thought it would be a little nip, but Henry bites into Abe over and over. Abe manages a soft groan and it almost breaks me. He’s covered in blood and I can’t imagine anyone recovering from this, lycanthropy or not.
“How long until we know if it works?” Snot is coming out of my nose and no amount of sniffling will fix it, but I just can’t care.
Alec shifts, his hulking form massive in the moon’s light. He walks over and picks up the rag-doll that Abe has become. “If it works, I’ll know in the next few days. I’ll call you.”
“Thanks.”
“Do not thank me, Sadie Salt. There is a serious conversation coming, and your life is still on the line.”
“Fine,” I agree. “I just want Abe to be okay.”
He grunts and starts trotting, his bare bum hardly enticing after all that’s happened. The pack fall in beside him and they disappear with Abe into the woods.
Benji squeezes me, reminding me he’s there, and I fall into him, borrowing from his strength. I’ve got none left. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Ingrid got to the apartment after you left. Your blood kept me alive until then and hers healed me after. I try not to feed on friends, I’m sorry—”
“You ask any time you need,” I mumble into his shoulder, locking my arms. Comfort, even from a vampire, is welcome. Especially when the vampire is a friend like Benji. “How did you find me?”
“Bonus to drinking your blood. I’ll know where you are for a week or so, if you’re in danger or pain, that sort of stuff. And I appreciate your offer, but I’ll pass. If I keep taking from the same person, they become a thrall.”
“Like the humans in the nest.”
“Exactly. You’ll start wanting it as much as me and—”
“I’ll turn into a vampire.”
“Um, no. Eventually I won’t be able to control myself and I’ll suck you dry. Turning a human takes a lot more than that.”
“Ugh.” It’s all I can manage. “I’m glad you found me.”
“Me too. Let me take you home.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hot shower? Check. I ran it hot enough that my skin is red and the shower only lasted ten minutes before I ran out of hot water. Pajamas, hot cocoa. Check and check.
Two friends listening as I tell them about what happened? Got them. Ingrid’s an animated listener. She gasps and sighs and opens her mouth in horror as I explain the cage, the journal, and my fight with David. Benji just listens, with vivid green eyes locked on me.
When I finish, the cocoa is gone and I’m starting to feel the withdrawal from the magic in a major way. Ingrid’s called Doug and he knows not to expect me for a few days. I’m pretty sure she told him I’ve had a nervous breakdown and it isn’t that far from the truth.
“Let me see your legs,” Benji says when I’m finished. Ah, right. I’d stayed in the shower for too long. My left leg is covered in old cyrillic from the sole of my foot to my knee. It looks mystical and horrifying and I’ll be in pants for the rest of my life. When I pull up my pajama leg, his frown deepens. “What possessed you to use so much magic?”
“Do you not remember the part where he attacked me and was a zombie about to smash the wolves to pieces?”
Benji sighs and leans back. “Yes, I do, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just that with that amount of magic expelled, there’s no way to keep you off the grid. Not only are we going to have to face the wolves, but I imagine other creatures and hunters will be drawn to Grimloch now in search of you.”
“I’m sorry, it didn’t feel like there was a choice.”
“Maybe not, but you can’t, and I mean can’t under any circumstances, use any more magic. It’s too dangerous.”
“Well, maybe I won’t have to. I’m square with the Tooth Fairy, thanks to David’s trophies.” Ingrid winces as we talk. “Ing, what’s wrong?”
“I just... I can’t believe I didn’t see him for what he was. What good is being a psychic, even a low-tier one, if I can’t tell when someone is a bad guy?” She shivers. “He was inside of me, and I don’t expect you to know how horrible that feels, but—”
“No, I don’t,” I agree and sit closer to her, snuggling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been going on and on and not thinking about how this would make you feel.”
She pecks my temple. “It’s okay. I’m glad at least one of my predictions came true. I’d pick keeping you safe over a lottery ticket any day.”
Benji stands up and stretches, which I’m pretty sure is just for show. I’m going to have to ask him if he really gets musc
le fatigue from sitting for so long or if he’s just very practiced at being human. “I need to go sleep. In my own home, with no windows nearby. Sadie, will you walk me out?”
I give Ingrid’s back one more pat, thankful that she didn’t get more caught up in the mess than she had. She’s more than a best friend, and now that I’m free from my debt to the Tooth Fairy, I’m hoping I can be a better friend to her, too. Standing, I follow Benji to my front door.
When we’re outside, he takes my hand and pulls me along toward his sexy car. “Do I still get rides some time?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“Am I walking you to your car because you want to lecture me some more?” Doubt is worming in and I’m too tired for more ‘don’t do magic, Sadie.’ Trust me, the hangover tomorrow will wipe away any desire I might have for more bone juice.
“Lecture, no. Talk, yes.” He leans against his car and starts to play with my fingers. Since we’ve been friends, I’ve adjusted to how affectionate he is. It isn’t something I expected in a vampire, but I certainly don’t mind it. It helps me be less intimidated by the hopelessly beautiful, immortal badass aspects of him. “About Abe—”
I suck in a breath. I’m still worried sick. There’d just been so much blood. “Do you really think the wolves can save him?”
“I’m afraid they will,” he mutters, unable to look me in the eye.
My heart drops. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you had a crush on a nice, sweet, human boy. But if it works, he’s going to be a moody, violent, angry wolf. I don’t want to see you get hurt, emotionally or physically.”
“Abe would never be like that.”
“How much time do you spend with the wolves? Ones like Nash and Henry are rare. There’s a lot of testosterone running through volatile bodies, Sadie.”
“So I’ll be careful.”
“Just... be prepared to consider non-wolf options.”
“Are you saying I should enter some paranormal version of matchme.com?”