by D. N. Hoxa
It swung its arm and its claws tore through my shield, but just as I thought he was going to attack again, someone howled.
The beast stopped moving for a second, then took a look back. When it saw that its three friends were twenty feet away from him now, down the street and still running, it turned to follow them, forgetting all about me.
I didn’t stop to think. I ran after it, one end of the chain still in my hands. I had no idea what the hell I expected to accomplish by chasing after four seemingly indestructible beasts, but I threw the chain forward with all my strength anyway. It hit the wounded beast square on its back, and it growled like the world had come to an end. To my horror, though, he didn’t turn to face me. He just kept running.
I didn’t have much strength left. My knees were shaking violently, but I hurried after him one more time. This time, I was going to use my fucking head—and my beads. My beads were there to help me. I was going to make sure they did.
Holding onto the chain with one hand only as it dragged behind me was no fun, but I needed my fingers if I was going to control my beads properly. I sent them forward, aiming at the back of the beast’s head.
When they hit their target, all five of them in row, one after the other, the beast’s legs gave, and he almost fell down. I swung the chain forward again and sent him tumbling down a few steps. I never stopped running, so the second he slowed down, I reached him, and just like he’d done to me, I wrapped that chain around his thick neck.
Unfortunately, he was a beast and I a mere witch/fairy. He could drag me back easily, but when I tried to do the same, I found I didn’t have enough power to pull him, or even make him hit the ground. Instead, he shot forward again, after his friends we could no longer even see, and he pulled me forward.
Shit. I couldn’t seem to catch a fucking break. My hands burned as I tried to hold on, but the steel tore through the flesh of my palms. I was a second away from letting go, but then something else occurred to me. If I wrapped the chain around the beast’s neck tightly enough, he was going to pass out. Yes, he was a huge creature with extreme strength, twice my size and twenty times my physical strength, but I was a Wayne. I had my beads with me.
Letting go of the chain, I stopped running and raised my left arm. The beads didn’t need to be told twice. They buried in the brown fur of the beast, searching for the steel around its neck, and I lined them on the chain rings, two in the front and three on the back. Then, squeezing my fingers into a tight fist, I pulled them to the left.
The chain tightened. The beast missed a step. Its claws went around its neck, but my beads held the steel tightly, just like the beast had held me. A smile stretched my lips as I watched it fall to its knees, no longer growling but gasping for air. I walked over to it without rushing because its friends weren’t coming back to its rescue, and continued to squeeze my fist more and more. The beast looked up at me, its green eyes begging, but it would find no mercy in me.
Soon, its eyes turned on their sockets, and it fell to the ground, face first.
Seven
Victory didn’t taste as sweet when I could barely stand on my own feet. Reluctantly, I looked down at my chest, only to find three claw marks on my jacket, shirt, and skin. It was pretty terrifying to see my own raw flesh, but the wounds were already healing. It must have been a fairy thing because wounds like that didn’t just heal on a witch without a strong spell.
The palms of my hands were a mess, too. Blood dripped down my fingers, but for now, I didn’t feel the pain. Adrenaline still kept my blood boiling, and I was taking advantage of that.
The brown furred beast with the thick chain around its neck was right in front of my feet. It took all my will power not to kick the hell out of it for clawing at my chest, but it was over now. All I had to do was get it to turn back to whatever it really was and to talk. Soon, all of this would be over.
“Hands where I can see them,” someone said.
You have got to be shitting me. Was he talking to me?
A look behind me confirmed it. The ECU werewolf with his gun pointed at my face was definitely talking to me.
With a sigh, I slowly turned to face him. I so didn’t need this. Couldn’t he see I was busy?
“Take it easy, buddy,” I said but didn’t put my hands up. I wasn’t there to make his damn night.
“Step forward and put your hands up,” the werewolf said. His six friends behind him, looking almost identical, supported his request by pointing their guns at me, too.
“I’m not going anywhere. This is mine.” I pointed at the beast by my feet, still unconscious, but it wouldn’t be for long. My beads still held the chain around its neck, loose enough so that a tiny amount of air could get through his throat.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Step forward and put—”
“Or what?” I hissed before he could finish. I wasn’t there to play games and my patience was wearing thin. Who knew how long I had before the beast came to its senses? Then, we would all be in trouble.
“Or you’ll die,” the werewolf said, his eyes filled with disgust as he looked at me. I could clearly make out all the expressions on their faces because of the fire still burning to their side, right in front of Peterson’s house. Behind the werewolves, the street was crowded. Green witches of all ages were there, taking in the mess, the ruined SUVs, the fire, the dead werewolves and witches, the beast on the ground—and me.
I offered the werewolf a bitter smile. He was dead wrong if he thought I was going to hand him my furry friend there, just like that. I’d die first before I let anyone else touch it before I spoke to it.
“In that case, before you pull that trigger, there’s something you should know first.” Silently, I conjured my shield and moved the beads from the chain around the beast’s neck, and right in front of my face. The werewolves were about ten feet away from me, close enough to see them. “See these pretty little balls here?”
The werewolf raised a brow in confusion. My grin grew wider.
“The second you fire, these will go right through the skull of the beast and come out the other side. I might die from your bullet, but I’m taking my prey with me.”
Silence fell heavy around the street. Everybody out there, all the witches and werewolves looking at me held their breaths. Sweat covered my forehead. Could they tell I was bluffing? Because my beads hadn’t been able to cause any real damage to the beast’s face before, and I doubted they’d be strong enough to go through its skull.
“You’ll be dead before you have the chance to think,” the werewolf said, but by the time he finished his sentence, my beads were right in front of his eyes.
He jumped back, scared shitless, and it took an awful lot of restraint to keep from laughing out loud. His face was hilarious.
“I suggest you turn around and clean up the mess your men made. I’ll be on my way.”
Half my attention was on the beast behind my feet. I ordered my beads back into the rings of the chain, so they could keep it unconscious until those people got off my back.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the werewolf hissed. He was pissed off now. Naturally. I’d made a fool out of him in front of his colleagues. See if I care.
But before I could say anything else, someone spoke.
“Ms. Wayne?”
It was William Peterson. I could see his pale face behind the werewolves. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes wide when he finally made it in front of them. It was easy to tell how badly his whole body was shaking. The man was afraid, but when he looked behind me, relief washed over his features.
“You caught it,” the witch breathed in wonder, as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“I did.” Straightening my shoulders, I cleared my throat. “And I’d appreciate it if these werewolves would stop treating me like I’m the enemy.”
Raising his brows, Peterson looked to his left where the werewolf I’d been speaking to stood, and the witch looked surprised for a second, as if he ha
dn’t even seen the gun right next to his head, pointed at me.
“Put those down,” he said and took a step to the side.
“Sir, she is an intruder,” the werewolf said, narrowing his brows, his eyes never leaving mine.
“She works for me,” Peterson said, his voice stronger now. “Put the guns down, Brooks.”
I tried to stop myself, I really did, but while surprise registered on the werewolf’s face, I smiled the brightest smile I could muster. Suck it, asshole.
Brooks didn’t like his order, but then again, nobody gave a shit. Reluctantly, he took a step back and put his gun down. The rest of his werewolves did the same.
Peterson never even blinked as he looked at the beast on the ground and slowly walked over to me.
“Is it…is it…” he whispered, but I didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence.
“Unconscious,” I said. “But not for long. I need a place to keep him. And I need your strongest spells to hold him.”
Getting the beast back to New York was out of the question. I was going to have to work with whatever I could find.
“You really caught it.” Peterson’s voice was filled with wonder.
I’d have been flattered if I hadn’t seen the beast in action. But I had and I knew that if it woke up, nothing was going to be able to stop him. Not there in the middle of the street.
“Mr. Peterson, I need to get it someplace safe. Right now,” I said in a rush. “If it wakes up…” I didn’t need to tell him what would happen. He had seen what those things had done right in front of his house with his own eyes.
When the witch finally looked at me, he seemed a bit more sober. “My basement.”
I nodded. “And I’m going to need help carrying it, too.”
Without a word, Peterson waved for Brooks and one of his werewolves to approach.
The beast wasn’t as heavy as I thought it would be. I only needed Brooks and one other werewolf to carry it into Peterson’s house. He led the way through the wreck and the fire, and right through the gates. I tried my best to ignore the stares of the people around me and focused on my beads instead. My eyes never left the closed ones of the beast from fear they’d pop open any second now. If that happened, my shield would be no good. Magic was out of the question. Too many ECU people around. If they so much as suspected what I could do, I’d be dead.
Peterson took us inside his house, to the end of the hallway and through a narrow corridor. We barely fit in there, but that was nothing compared to the stairs that led to the basement. I had to walk backwards since I was holding the head of the beast in my arms, and I almost fell at least four times before I made it.
The adrenaline in my body was wearing off. The wounds on my chest began to sting and my hands hurt like they were stripped completely of skin and flesh. Gritting my teeth, I tried to focus on the beast because I couldn’t afford to be weak now. It sucked that I couldn’t even conjure a healing spell, but I needed to suck it up and deal until I could get this over with.
Six werewolves and Brooks created half a circle around the beast that we left lying on the floor on his back. All their guns were pointed at its head, fingers on the trigger. I doubted that would serve them if the beast woke up, but it was better than nothing.
“This is Emily and Ryan Dawson,” Peterson said and invited my eyes to him. By his side was a man and a woman, both older than me and extremely similar. Almost like they were twins. “They’re our coven’s best at holding spells.”
I nodded. Two was better than one. “I’ll also need more chains. As many as you can find.”
The plan was to tie the beast to whatever we could, then hold it in place as motionless as was possible with spells. I had never learned a holding spell before, but now that was going to be at the top of my list as soon as I got back to my office.
Peterson nodded at one of Brooks’s werewolves and he immediately ran up the stairs.
“How are you going to make it shift back?” Peterson asked in a whisper. He was afraid to even speak out loud.
“I’m not sure,” I mumbled as I took in the beast. There was enough light down there to see everything clearly, even the wounds my bullets had caused on its shoulder—the wounds that were barely scars now. It was amazing. The thing was healing itself even while unconscious.
What the hell was it?
“A spell to force transformation—” the witch named Ryan started, but I cut him off.
“Not going to work.”
“Of course it is,” the woman I assumed was his sister said.
“This is not a werewolf,” I said, and I didn’t bother to look at them.
“Then what it is?” Peterson asked, his voice still shaking. I understood why. His children were in that house, if he hadn’t moved them already. I’d be scared shitless, too, if I were in his position.
“No idea, but we’re going to find out soon.” Just as I finished the sentence, the beast’s arm moved just a tiny bit.
My heart rose to my throat. Panic made me want to grab my gun and shoot at its head until I could see its brains all over the floor, but I controlled myself.
“Start your spells, now,” I said to Ryan and Emily. My beads were still around the beast’s neck, and I pulled them so that they tightened the chain around it.
“Go ahead,” Peterson said and stepped back.
Ryan and Emily didn’t look half as afraid as their leader. Probably because they hadn’t seen what the beast could do. I wasn’t going to tell them to step back out of reach because the spells needed to be as strong as possible, but I stood right next to them just to make sure nothing would happen if the beast really woke up before they were done.
The whispers began almost immediately and both witches raised their arms, their palms towards the beast. The first chanting lasted no longer than ten seconds, and the second, almost a minute. When they began the third spell, the beast’s arm moved again. I bit my bottom lip hard. I could not conjure any spells. I could not do magic. If Peterson saw—if anyone saw—the ECU wouldn’t rest until they had my head on their desk.
No. No magic. I was just going to have to get to the bottom of this the way I used to, before I became a fairy.
The ECU werewolf finally came back just as Emily and Ryan were finishing their fourth spell. He had two large chains around his arms, and a boy behind him carried a third. They weren’t as big as the one the beast had carried, but they were long enough and they looked strong. They were going to have to do.
“Help me out here,” I said to Brooks, and he reluctantly put his gun away.
Fear turned the blood in my veins into ice, but there was no other way to go about this. I was going to have to touch the beast again.
“Let’s get it over there.” I nodded to the left to one of the thick square support columns in the room. It was going to be stronger than the water pipes, at least.
“What’s the plan?” Brooks asked.
To his credit, he wasn’t peeing himself already. His warm brown eyes looked scared, but he wasn’t terrified. Or maybe he just masked his emotions better than I could.
“Wake him up and try to turn him into whatever he turns into.” A simple plan, one that had to work. Otherwise…
“The house is going to break down if he wakes up,” Brooks whispered. Exactly. “The whole building is supported by these columns.”
“Any better ideas?” I asked because I was all ears. By the time we dumped the beast against the columns, I was sweating like a pig. No time to rest, though. I waved the werewolf and the witch with the chains over and got to work.
“These are not going to hold it,” Brooks said under his breath as he helped me lock the beast’s still limp body to the column.
“The spells will.” They had to. The thing was wounded, and if all else failed, we all had guns in there. I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“And if they don’t?”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop being such a pessimist. I thought werewolves ha
d bigger balls than this.”
“I’m trying to help here. Being prepared for all possible outcomes is called smart, not pessimistic.”
He was right, only I’d never admit it.
“If it tries to escape, shoot it,” I said reluctantly. “The forehead and the eyes should be a good target.”
Brooks sighed. “It’s locked.” He showed me the lock, which was as big as the palm of his hand, and which locked all six edges of the three chains together.
Shit. This was so not going to hold the beast. I turned to the Green witches and Peterson standing behind them.
“Are you guys done?”
Emily nodded. “The last one.” And she began to chant again.
“Ms. Wayne, may I?” Peterson said.
Before I knew it, I was walking toward him in a rush, glad to take a second away from that thing. I really needed to teach myself how to mask my fear better. By the time I made it to the coven leader, the door to the basement opened, and three more witches walked down the stairs. Behind them, suited ECU werewolves walked in a row, guns in hand, eyes trained only on the beast.
“These are my co-leaders,” Peterson said, but I’d already guessed that much.
I expected them to shake my hand, to thank me for catching the beast single-handedly, to congratulate me for it. Stupid. How fast I forgot how I looked…but the expression on their faces reminded me pretty quickly. All their eyes were focused on my pointy ears and my violet eyes. To them, I was not the witch who’d caught one of the beasts terrorizing their coven and kidnapping their children. To them, I was just a filthy fairy in the house of their leader.
“This is Winter Wayne,” Peterson continued. “I hired her to help with the case, and she managed to catch one of them.” The witch nodded at the beast and Brook with his six werewolves standing around it, guns ready and aiming at its face.