Of Flame and Light: A Weird Girls Novel

by Cecy Robson

  “Yeah?” I answer her slowly.

  She stretches out her hands. “Well, here we are again, dude.”

  “Ergh,” Alice agrees.

  My swears cut off as I realize I’m still in the red dress I had on for dinner. All at once, I’m jarred awake. “Where’s Gemini?” I ask, glancing around.

  “He’s back at the house, I think,” Emme offers, speaking quietly. She steals a glimpse toward the witches. She doesn’t trust them, and rightfully so, but finishes explaining since honest to God, there’s not really a choice. “Your arm went crazy and I think started burning you. He wouldn’t let go until your arm forced him off you, and both of you went flying in opposite directions.”

  “You landed at the edge of the property line,” Shayna adds. “He hit the side of the house and left a really bad dent.” She gives it some thought. “I think we may need to redo the side of the house.” She holds out her hands when my jaw drops open. “But I think he’s okay. The others ran to him. Me, Em, and Alice ran to you and were dragged herewith you.”

  “That was our fault,” Paula explains. I hadn’t noticed her hiding in the shadows until she steps forward. “Merri, Fiona, and I accidently summoned you here. When we helped you cast Mirror, it bonded our magic, not that it’s permanent,” she adds in a way of an apology. “And we only meant to call you and tell you we were in trouble. But somehow, it brought you and your family here.”

  “And where is here?” I ask.

  “A fortress beneath the north side of the compound,” Merri explains. “Genevieve created it in case we were ever attacked, or if the apocalypse or whatever came and we were gonna die. We’ve been using it as our new home since, you know, you blew our last one to shit.”

  I cover my eyes until an unearthly growl and the sound of claws scraping against stone gives me a reason to quickly drop my hands away.

  “What’s that?” I ask, only to be silenced.

  “They’ll hear you,” Paula says, batting her hands.

  “Who?” I mouth.

  “The monsters,” she says, like that’s supposed to explain anything.

  “You’re going to have to give me more than that,” I press, hoping I’m being loud enough that she can hear me, but not so loud that whatever is stalking the exterior notices.

  Emme gently touches my arm. “They’re not sure,” she whispers. “They’ve been trapped here since we left. Some of the younger witches went missing when everyone was trying to settle in. The Superiors went to investigate and they never came back.” She pauses. “Including Genevieve.”

  “You have to be kidding me,” I say. I’m not crazy about Vieve, but I’ve only wished her scabies, not death. And if the strongest among them is gone, that means someone stronger is here.

  A deep sniff follows a heavy growl that reverberates down the hall and sends some of the witches scurrying back. “They can smell us,” Paula whispers.

  Yeah. They can. But death by mutilation is not the way I want to go. I clench my fists, cracking my knuckles. My arm starts to buzz, but instead of turning against me, and causing me pain like the rest of me, it feels ready to act. I stroke it, feeling slightly reassured. But then it’s like the motion increases the buzzing, but also its strength.

  Holy shit. It’s listening.

  I step forward since now is not the time to analyze what’s happening, and it’s especially not the time to die. “Take up the rear,” I mouth to Emme.

  She nods, urging Alice behind her.

  Shayna is ahead of us, but I don’t need to tell her what to do, especially when the growls turn more challenging. She lifts a torch from the wall and blows it out. Using her gift to manipulate the metal, she stretches out the tip, separating it from the rest of the handle and converting it into a dagger while she transforms the remainder into a long and deadly sword.

  I follow behind her, but hate how dark it is. The torches along the walls barely cast enough light to see. We pass an open doorway where two sets of bunk beds are pressed against the wall. Another similar room follows, but as we near the corner, what appears to be a dining area opens up on the opposite side, a long wooden table set at the middle of the cramped room.

  Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaaaaape.

  Shit.

  Whatever this thing is has big claws. Shayna tucks her dagger in the waistband of her skinny jeans then adjusts her grip on the hilt of her sword. We inch toward the scratches, doing our best to move quietly.

  Emme trails me, she’s in sneakers. Shayna is in a pair of old flip-flops while I maneuver in platform stilettos. Alice is in bare feet.

  Guess who makes the most noise?

  “Ergh?”

  “Alice, quiet,” I whisper.

  The scratching sound increases, growing frantic as does the sound of sniffling along the ground.

  “Ergh?” she calls out, this time louder.

  The wall shakes and dust falls from the ceiling. What resembles a paw stripped of its fur pushes beneath a crevice, scratching three lines into a rune that’s supposed to ward off evil.

  “Ergh!” Alice yells.

  I fall back as the wall shatters and three large forms bust through. The one in the lead growls, the tone distorted as it charges.

  My arm shoots out as a long row of sharp fangs clamp down.

  I don’t feel pain.

  All I feel is fire.

  It spreads along my limb in ripples of blue and white, illuminating the creature.

  Patches of fur and muscle peel away in strips from his long snout while sunken eyes widen in torture. My flames consume him, spreading out across his sagging brown pelt like pieces of carpet lit on fire.

  I push onto my feet as he releases me, shaking out my arm as he writhes and bounds away. But instead of racing back outside, he ricochets toward Shayna and the creature she’s fighting.

  “Shayna!” I scream.

  With ballerina grace she pivots, bringing down the sword and decapitating her opponent. As she leaps out of the way, the creature I engulfed in flames crashes into the one she fought, igniting him as if doused in gasoline.

  “Taran, Shayna, move!”

  Shayna and I press our backs against the wall as Emme shoves a third creature past us, this one appearing more feline, unlike the wolves that attacked me and Shayna. Perspiration builds across her brow as she marches forward with her hands out, the magnitude of her power skimming across my skin and making my arm twitch.

  The creature refuses to submit, its aggressive nature causing it to flail and viciously swing its limbs. Claws rake the air inches from my face as it jerks and struggles to break free. But Emme hangs on, slamming it into the opposite wall before launching it into the others.

  My flames eat through them like piñatas, their agonized howls threatening to rupture my eardrums.

  As they burn to ash Alice hobbles to my side, moaning softly while the rest of us work to settle our breathing. Tears glisten Emme’s and Shayna’s eyes. Emme’s because of the raging heat, but Shayna because of something entirely different. “That was a werewolf,” she says.

  “I know,” I respond, struggling to relax my hands.

  “Yours was, too,” she adds.

  I nod because this is too messed up to be real. Paula edges forward, followed by Merri, and Fiona, and a few Lessers who didn’t run and hide. “What are they?” she asks.

  “Zombies,” I explain, biting out the words. “Savana is raising dead werebeasts.”

  ~ * ~

  Shayna stands guard by the caved-in wall, one foot on the rubble, her sword out. I don’t like her there, but her senses are more heightened than ours and she’ll latch onto trouble sooner than we will. “We can’t stay here,” she says, keeping her gaze fixed out toward the darkness. “Whatever else is out there could have heard the fight. But even if they didn’t, they’ll track us, just like the others.”

  “I know,” I say. I kick at the runes etched into the floor as I work through what’s happened. “Did Genevieve strengthen these markings?
” I ask. After studying them a few weeks ago, I recognize their meaning, and know they’ve been bespelled to protect. Yet seeing how three very deceased werebeasts not only found the location, but broke in here, clearly they’re not working and it’s so not a good sign.

  Paula realizes as much, wringing her hands. “Yes. One of her duties requires her to strengthen them every quarter moon. The most powerful in her coven, and her most trusted guards, accompany her to help her reinforce the spell.”

  Emme looks at me. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we’re screwed,” I tell her, walking forward.

  Her shoulders slump. “It’s worse than we thought. Isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah. For starters, her guards are dead. Their heads were the ones in that box,” I remind her. I tap my foot against one of the runes. “And if these aren’t working, the Superior witches are dead, too.”

  One of the Lessers begin to cry, then another few more after that. “I don’t think Genevieve’s dead,” Paula begins.

  “Wake up,” Cynthia snaps, her face swollen from crying. “These runes did nothing and the others didn’t come back. Of course Genevieve’s dead, along with everyone else.”

  I ignore her, focusing on Paula. “What makes you think she’s alive?”

  Paula glances at Cynthia as if afraid to answer. I step forward, blocking her view. “Don’t worry about her,” I say. “Tell me what you know.”

  “The Whisperer of the Dead—Savana, I mean, can’t raise werebeasts without sacrificing a ton of magic.” Her voice drops. “And she’s not going to sacrifice her own.”

  I glance briefly at Emme before addressing Paula. “So she’s leaching from Genevieve, and possibly the others?” She nods. “You’re sure?”

  “A werebeast’s spirit is too strong to raise otherwise. It’s the reason it takes years for their bodies to decompose, and why they appeared as whole as they were, despite their dismembering parts.”

  Emme’s eyes open wide. “That’s why all those witches never came back. She must have used them to raise at least a couple of beasts.”

  “Which then helped her kill more witches, so she could raise more weres,” I finish for her. It’s like a twisted circle. But an effective one.

  “T?” Shayna calls, her voice shaking. She keeps her attention outside, not waiting for me to ask what’s wrong, even though something obviously is. “All the weres who died during the war were brought back and buried in Squaw Valley, at the base of the Den where generations of weres have been laid to rest.”

  The others gasp around me and I feel the blood drain from my face. Everything suddenly makes sense, not that I’m thrilled by the news. “This is why Savana came here to begin with. She wasn’t trying to join the coven, she was getting a feel for witches and staking out the area.” I start to pace. “We’re not just looking at a few werebeasts, we’re looking at a potential army if Savana’s draining enough of Vieve’s juice.”

  I stop in my tracks. “I take it none of you have cell phones?”

  The Lessers shake their heads. “Naw,” Merri responds. “You melted them to nothing when you burned down our house.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” I say, lifting a hand. “Shayna, any chance Koda knows where you are?”

  She closes her eyes briefly and breathes slowly. “What’s she doing?” Paula asks.

  “They’re mated,” I explain. “He can sense her distress and longing. If he’s close enough, he can hone in on her presence.”

  “So there’s a chance they’ll know you’re here?” Merri asks, jumping in place hard enough to bounce the hair on her feet.

  “I can’t be sure,” I admit. “The weres don’t know of this place, do they?”

  The Lessers collectively shake their heads. “Only the head witch and her most trusted circle was made aware,” Fiona explains. She’s been noticeably quiet, but like the rest, she seems scared out of her mind. “The rest of us were told only after we arrived.”

  I curse under my breath. “In that case, we have a real problem. Gemini was supposed to meet Vieve at midnight, on the Nevada side of Tahoe to begin the hunt.”

  “That’s a good hour from here,” Paula says. “And it’s only about eleven now.”

  Not to mention the north side of the compound where we are is nowhere close to the remains of the mansion, and the furthest away from the road. The weres wouldn’t have a reason to come, and even if they did the amount of rain the witches cast would make tracking us harder.

  “Shayna,” I ask. “Do you feel anything?”

  She opens her eyes. “Nothing, T. Koda isn’t any place near me.” She pauses. “Are you getting anything from Gemini?”

  Cynthia frowns. “Why would she?” she asks.

  “Because he’s my mate,” I respond.

  Oh, and don’t I have everyone’s attention then?

  “You’re a liar,” Cynthia says. “He belongs to our most Superior Genevieve.”

  Emme whimpers as I stomp forward and ram my face in Cynthia’s. Knowing you’re going to die by your own fire, if some scary zombie werebeasts don’t kill you first, while you wait in some dingy crypt-like hole in the ground, as the most evil and powerful necromancer witch ever known stalks you in the dead of night has a way of shoving petty insecurities aside. “He belongs to me,” I fire back. “And if you say one more negative thing against me, or anyone here, I’m going to set your ass on fire and use what remains as bait. Got me?”

  Her scowl dwindles and she nods.

  I turn back to Shayna. “I don’t feel Gemini, but we can’t wait for them to show. We’re not too far from the Den. Is there any way you can howl and call for help?”

  Shayna can’t go all furry, and her howls are pathetic at best. But any were belonging to the Pack will recognize her voice and alert the others. It may be all that we need, not that it gives us a lot of time.

  “I can, but we’re far, T.” She adjusts her hold on her sword. “And anything out there will hear me, too.”

  “I know. But we need to move and need more help.” My thoughts ground to a halt when I see something in Paula’s expression change. “What is it?”

  “I can make her howl louder,” she says. “There’s an amplifying spell that’s supposed to work to enforce charms, but it can also work on voices. It should also intensify your emotions and help you reach your mate so he can find you.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Do it. We have to move fast.” I move to take over watch duty as Shayna hops down and a group of thirteen witches surround her.

  I don’t bother participating in the spell despite how I’m somewhat familiar with it. My arm is behaving, but the witch who bound it is either dead or being leached of her power. I can’t count on its good behavior to last, and I don’t want to screw up our last chance to call for help.

  I carefully step through the mound of rubble. These shoes are the absolute worst footwear I could have been transported into the woods with. Stones and bark litter the terrain and the ground isn’t exactly flat. I can’t go barefoot, but I can’t exactly charge into battle in these things.

  “Anybody have an extra pair of shoes?” I ask, not that I think any sort of pilgrim-wear is much better.

  “Oh!” a little witch calls out. “I found a pair beneath my bed.” She hurries away from the crowd gathered around Shayna as they cast their spell.

  Whispers fill the corridor as the witches begin their chant. They’re almost finished when the little witch returns with a pair of pink bunny slippers.

  It shouldn’t surprise me, after all this pretty much sums up the kind of luck I have. “Ah, thanks,” I mumble, switching out my shoes.

  The good news is they’re heavily cushioned to somewhat protect my feet. They also wrap around them entirely and will, hopefully, stay on when I’m running for my life. I almost laugh, thinking about what Gemini would say, but my smile fades the more I think of him.

  I step through the opening, and a little further out when I fail to sense any ne
arby danger. The full moon peers at me from the heavens. Despite its brightness, it takes some time for my eyes to adjust.

  This part of the compound survived my fire, though the lingering smell of charred wood remains. It will help camouflage our scents, but the thick stands of trees will make it harder to see and trek through. It will also make it harder to see what’s coming.

  I’m not sure how long I have and I’m not positive any of us will make out of here alive. So I take a moment to speak to my mate even though I can’t be positive he’s listening.

  “I don’t know if you can hear my words or thoughts,” I whisper. “But if you can, I’m at the north side of the Genevieve’s compound. Savana is raising dead werebeasts using Genevieve’s power. I’m with Shayna, Emme, Alice, and the Lessers. We’re moving out toward the main road. We might not make it, and I need you to know something in case we don’t.” I take a breath, trying to keep my composure, but barely managing to do so. “You told me you love me. I believe you . . . because I’ll never stop loving you.”

  I don’t realize I’m crying until Emme steps to my side and squeezes my hand. “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “No, but I need to be.”

  I glance behind me to where the Lessers are gathering behind Shayna and Alice. “Are we ready?” I ask.

  Shayna nods, lifting her sword. “Yeah, T. It’s time.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “Okay,” I say. “We have to get to the river that runs along the main road. It’s the only chance we have to lose our scent. My sisters and I have more battle experience. We’ll lead. But there’s a lot of us and so we’ll need to separate out into three groups. Get behind us and form a line. Paula, Fiona, and Merri will lead each—”

  “Why them?” Cynthia interrupts.

  Good God, I may have to literally throw her to the wolves.

  “Because right now, they have some of my residual power, making them stronger,” I remind her.

  “But I’m not sure how long it will last,” Paula points out.

  She’s as averse to leading as the rest of the Lessers. “No, but for now you have it, and it could last long enough to help you fight and get everyone out of here.”