Blood Ties

by Skyla Dawn Cameron

  “Tear in reality” seemed like a pretty nebulous warning sign to search for, but there were specifics even after the Aanzhenii were long gone from an area. One was nature’s reaction—everything in the vicinity either died or got...weird. If those creatures passed through quickly, there might not be much—and they had wings, so they flew a lot—but a lot of time spent in one area had an effect on the environment. Usually wildlife or any animals avoided the space. Trees and plants would either rapidly grow away from the spot, or they’d die entirely. There would end up being great gaps in the environment for months after, obvious enough that the Aanzhenii got smart about where they spent their time.

  Concrete didn’t fare much better—it cracked and bent oddly, but any kind of dimensional tear could do the same thing so it was less specific of a sign.

  Then there were the weird spots. Reality also meant time, so a spot in the forest might suddenly be overgrown more than the surrounding trees or go back to seedlings. I’d often wondered if something like that was how Rodney got here as saber-tooth cats were pretty nonexistent these past twelve thousand years, even though he’d been in this world long before the Aanzhenii came through.

  The trees thinned a little the farther we got from the cemetery so we could see farther on either side and ahead. Melinoë had gone over what she’d read a bit about the trails, that the main one ran twelve kilometers or so total, with smaller ones that branched here and there. Beyond that it got dicey; the main one was the only trail previously maintained, and given the intervening years since this was a park, I didn’t know how much would’ve grown over.

  We walked in mostly silence for forty minutes, the sunlight fading and shadows thickening. Dusk brought a breeze, cooling my skin, and I crossed my arms to keep out some of the chill. While I kept my personal magic coiled around me in preparation, I whispered the words of a spell to better light our path. It didn’t conjure light or do anything that would magically draw attention to us, but gathered what ambient light there was from the last of the sun to the rising starlight and moonlight, and drew it over us. Didn’t make a glow or anything obvious, but dialed the brightness up. We still wouldn’t see much beyond a few feet, but I was counting on my supernatural Spidey-sense to draw my attention to anything of note.

  What was Dev doing out here?

  I finally asked that aloud. “Did he ever say anything that would indicate what would draw him out here?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve combed back through every conversation I can remember, went over all of my notes. I even researched the town online. No unexplained deaths or missing people, no strange power outages. Doesn’t seem to be a lot of demonic or Aanzhenii activity. The town is definitely weird but it seems like just human weird.”

  There was something I was missing here, but damned if I could tell what it was. “Maybe that’s the clue: that there aren’t any clues. You said yourself, there are no flowers at the cemetery and no recent graves.”

  “They might have an additional cemetery somewhere else,” she pointed out.

  “But the lack of children... Not even a hint of past kids—no playgrounds.” I wouldn’t expect a school in a town that small, but there were no signs indicating bus pickup spots.

  I looked at Melinoë, who frowned deep in thought as we walked. “You’re right,” she said. “Something was niggling me but I couldn’t put my finger on it. You don’t think...people with kids simply move away?”

  “Initially, yeah, I thought that would be the case, but moving takes money and no one here seems to have much. Could I see some teenagers going to the nearest community college and then not coming back? Sure, but not all of them. This isn’t a wealthy town and I’d take a shot in the dark and say they push abstinence-only sex-ed, so there should be some poor people with kids.”

  “I haven’t seen any technology newer than the past ten to fifteen years at least,” she said. “When I first signed into the motel, the computer in the office surprised me—glorified paperweight. They’re like a little old town stuck in time...”

  I shivered and it wasn’t the cool autumn air. “Which could be what tipped off Dev. Something is happening here, and the sooner we figure it out, the sooner we’ll find where he went.”

  She looked around at the woods shrouding us. “Pity we didn’t think of that before we went out here.”

  Hard agree on that. “Tomorrow morning let’s go back to that library and town hall.”

  “Property records,” she filled in.

  I nodded. “Google the names, see what we can trace. I can pass them to some occultist and demonologist contacts who might have some ideas.”

  The trail looped left and we continued. Melinoë swung her head from side to side as if she could see better than I could. Hell, maybe she could. There was plenty about Dev’s abilities I wasn’t familiar with.

  Ugh, killing men was so much easier than trying to find one unharmed.

  After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “I think we just went in a circle?”

  I nodded and gestured ahead. “Seems like. I think those are our footprints on the path going the opposite direction.” So the exit couldn’t be far now.

  “Are you seeing anything here that might indicate what Dev was looking for?”

  I’d been thinking about it, but there was nothing about the woods that drew my attention, nothing that suggested it was different from any forest. No stray magic. No whispers of inhabitants. Nothing but the fact that it was still so quiet and maybe that should’ve worried me more.

  “No. Maybe I can get Dad to overnight some supplies that might let me cast something to put us more on Dev’s trail.”

  “I didn’t see a post office in town either.”

  Fuck. “You’re right. They must get some kind of deliveries...” Now I couldn’t recall if I’d seen any mailboxes at all. The more and more I thought about it, the more and more off this town felt, and my stomach twisted.

  “We could just leave tonight,” she suggested. “Find another place to stay overnight and you could stock up then?”

  “Not back at the city with the police.” Fuck fuck fuck, what if there was some kind of BOLO out on me that hadn’t been made public yet? The very reason I didn’t want to stay in St. Philip Point—the lack of technology and resources—might be why it was also the only safe place for me. Internally I thrashed about with frustration, hating the feeling of being trapped.

  “I could do it,” she offered. “You lay low, I can pick up what you need if you give me a list. Or meet with your dad again to get supplies. What spell are you thinking?”

  I tried to focus on that, on a problem I could solve with magic. Get my thoughts in order and push aside the crawling panic of being stuck. “Um...some kind of tracker would be best. Something that could find his trail. You’ve both got the same demon magic—I could probably cobble together something.”

  I looked up at the sky. There was less and less light for my spell to work from. I had a penlight in the messenger bag, but my sense of direction told me we were winding back around to the cemetery.

  Ahead of us, the trees thickened as we neared the exit and cemetery again.

  A rustle of leaves above me alerted me to danger just seconds before the net fell.

  Seventeen

  Burn the Witch

  Bright red flared along the netting around me as I sank to my knees.

  Melinoë thrashed at my side. I called to magic, surged it crackling upward; it sizzled and faded immediately, the moment it hit the net.

  Motherfucker—it created a dead zone.

  No witch really understood the mechanics behind it or what it was even made of—probably some interdimensional substance or combination of ingredients. But my magic couldn’t penetrate it—no magic could.

  Something struck my side and I tumbled over, Melinoë collapsing with me, and pain flared against my arm as I hit the ground. We were moving, then, the thin but heavy netting shifting and driving under us so we were completely co
cooned. I stopped fighting and stifled my anger to switch gears and assess, twisting as best I could to glimpse past the netting at the darkness around. Footsteps crunched on the ground, and it sounded like multiple people—dragging us, though I couldn’t say where.

  Melinoë did not give up—she flailed wildly, shouting and swearing. She managed to withdraw the gun and aimed the barrel between the gaps in the net. The weapon spoke, sound deafening with the proximity.

  Moments later she cried out as it was knocked from her hands and a club came down again, smacking against the side of her head. Fury burned through me—impotent fury because I couldn’t do anything. I tried to wrap an arm protectively around her head but the club hit her exposed side next.

  Melinoë was growling but she stopped thrashing and the clubbing stopped.

  We continued to move over bumpy ground—I wasn’t sure but I suspected they dragged us back through the woods. I caught glimpses of light but it wasn’t from my spell—that went as soon as my connection was severed—so I figured they had flashlights. Suggesting humans.

  Humans kidnapping us? Who in this shitty town would have that kind of anti-magic netting? It would’ve cost a fortune.

  This might explain what happened to Dev, though. A place like this, his guard down as mine was. I didn’t trust anyone ever and I hadn’t expected this.

  My cell phone was in my back pocket but the signal was spotty, and we might get clubbed again if they caught me using it. Last thing I needed was for it to get cracked too.

  What I did do was shift and shuffle awkwardly, slipping the phone from my back pocket and keeping it hidden in my palm. When we rolled over a jostling bump on the trail, I pulled my legs up and wiggled the phone into my boot, the plastic hard against my ankle. At least if they searched me, they probably wouldn’t find it.

  I met Melinoë’s eyes in the poor light. “You okay?” I whispered. A bruise was forming on her temple and blood rolled down her cheek, but it wasn’t as bad as head wounds normally were.

  Her dark eyes were furious. “I’ll be fine as soon as I kill every single one of them.”

  Her expression actually chilled me—and delighted me in turn, because I recognized her fury as my own. She would kill them if she had the chance, as would I. If we could just get out of the stupid fucking net, that is.

  They were prepared for a witch. Ready to ambush and had some kind of plans for us. My stomach twisted in knots even as I tried to reassure myself. If this was what happened to Dev, we might find him still alive, and he and I could take out just about anything. Add Melinoë to the list and I was pretty confident we’d get out of this.

  Of course, we were basing the possibility of Dev being here on some townies believing they saw him by the woods. This could all have been a setup—Dev might be long gone from this town.

  Or he could already be dead.

  Our captors tugged us over a wide stone that scraped my hoodie and arm—at least I kept my head protected—and I struggled, and failed, to figure out what direction we were headed in. The trees were thick enough that I couldn’t make out any glimpse of the moon, though it didn’t help that the netting flared red and disrupted my vision every time my magic flexed.

  I picked through the sounds of footsteps and tried to place how many were out there—three, maybe, dragging our dead weight, but shuffling together with the rustle of dead leaves underfoot, there could be more.

  The feeling beneath us changed abruptly to something smoother and I twisted to see wooden slats over dirt, some old path we hadn’t encountered in the hour we’d been wandering earlier. Light broke overhead, the orange of torches or maybe older lanterns. Hinges squeaked, boots on creaking wood. The echoes changed—we were definitely moving indoors.

  Hands gripped the netting and we were hauled up, stumbling to get onto our feet before being thrust forward. The netting snapped and fell away and something collided with my back, pain spiking. I threw my hands out to catch my fall, then twisted and kicked as I felt someone rifling through my pockets. I called for magic—

  It didn’t answer.

  There was nothing. Not even a spark, not that hum along my skin. Silence. Panic—real, true panic—clawed its way across my flesh.

  Melinoë screamed and threw herself at the retreating figures—they had the messenger bag and her gun must’ve been long gone. The door slammed and she threw her fists at the unyielding wood.

  We were trapped and there was no magic. I had no magic. Goddessdamn it all—fuck.

  I climbed to my feet and took a moment to close my eyes and breathe, pushing down at all the panic and fear. You don’t only have magic—you have many skills. You can do this.

  I could do this. At least, I could tell myself I could do this, and maybe eventually I’d believe it.

  I took stock of our surroundings, trying to pin down my whirling thoughts and focus. We were in a tiny room of wood-panelled walls, ceiling, and floor. Aged and weathered, though somewhat recently polished almost gold. There was no furniture, nothing but us in here and two lights on two of the walls. An old cabin, maybe, although no windows—no sign of one at all, like it had been built without. An internal room deep within a building, or was it intentionally built like this to prevent other methods of escape?

  I pressed my hand to the nearest wall but felt nothing beyond—of course. Because no magic. No matter how I tried to call it, nothing worked—not a whispered smile, not the instinctual kind that hovered around me all the time. I was well and truly alone for the first time in my life.

  Was this how a normal human felt? Good goddess, how did they stand it?

  Melinoë wasn’t helping matters—she’d gone practically feral, throwing herself at the door and screaming. It was yet another side of her, pure rage that would’ve been frightening had she the power to back it up right now, and I wondered how often this fury was buried under that aloof and vulnerable exterior.

  I pulled my phone from my boot and checked the screen. “Motherfucker,” I muttered.

  At that, Melinoë stopped with a frustrated sigh and turned back to me. “What?”

  I waved the phone at her and tucked it in my back pocket. “No signal.”

  “Can you...spell us out of here?”

  Well, that answered the question of what she could sense—she had some natural magic but clearly didn’t feel it at all times like I did. “It’s blocked.”

  “Blocked?”

  I peered around the room again, looked up at the ceiling. “Yes. I mean, completely. They’re prepared for magic users—that net would’ve run several hundred thousand on the black market if not more. And this room is spelled, not just warded.”

  “Have you ever seen something like this before?”

  “Only academically—basically, I’ve read about it. And I don’t know anyone who has successfully dismantled it—while I’m in this room, I have no magic.”

  “Motherfucker.”

  “Exactly. Did they leave anything on you?”

  She checked her coat pockets, then those of her jeans. “My cell phone and Dev’s.”

  Because they knew we wouldn’t have a signal in here. “Demon magic? Test and see if that’s blocked?”

  She looked to the side and her eyes went unfocused. A prickle ran across my skin, not because I felt anything but I remembered Dev getting that look now and then.

  At last she shook her head. “Nothing. I can’t even see anything, any trace of anything.”

  “Neither can I.” If I could see the spelling over the room, maybe I could find a hole, but it was possibly woven right into the wood or something beyond.

  Panic wasn’t going to help matters, but fuck, I really wanted to freak out. Howl and thrash and give into tears. But I didn’t know why we were here or how much time we had, and I wouldn’t waste any moment freaking out.

  I took another deep breath and let calmness roll over me. My magic was dampened but I wasn’t powerless. “Let’s look around. Anything that can be a weapon—loose board or s
omething? Or any sign of Dev.” Maybe if Dev knew Melinoë was looking for him, or assumed she’d go to me, he’d have left something for us to find had he been in here. Carved in the wood, stuffed between the floorboards.

  Melinoë took the door while I worked my way around the room. I ran my fingers along the walls, the seams between the panels. Checked around the baseboards. While much of the room had been carefully put together, there were long nails sticking out of the odd spot where repairs had been done, some rusty and some not. The light sources were both open flames behind glass. Glass shards as a weapon? Risky, they’d probably see it was broken if not hear it shatter. Fire didn’t do me any good without magic to control it. Nowhere to hide, just a plain square box.

  “Think you can pry a board up?” I asked, glancing back at her.

  She shook her head. “Not unless we find one already loose. Nothing to pry it with.” She went through her pockets again as if she might’ve missed something. “Shoelaces? To garrotte?”

  A possibility—I wasn’t sure I had the strength to pull that off but if her brain went there, she might. Of course that would leave me stumbling around in loose boots if we failed. “Let’s see if any of the ceiling boards are loose. Give me a boost?”

  She nodded and walked to me, leaned her back to the wall and offered her hands. I stepped into them and she boosted me up; I pressed my hands to the wall for balance. I reached up and pushed on the tile above—no give, no budging at all. I tried the others I could reach, still nothing.

  We repeated the process around the room, even in the center though she couldn’t hold me for long before we toppled over with a loud thump our captors likely heard.

  Melinoë rose and paced back and forth, fury rushing off her. The cut on her temple had clotted but blood streaked still down her check, dried flecks flaking off. She swept a hand back through her hair. “This is fucked.”

  Although I had a feeling we’d eventually find out what the hell was going on, it might be too late to do anything by then. I racked my brain for something, some possibility, that would explain all this. Did we accidentally encroach on some other witch’s territory? It was the wild west now, all the stories Dad told me of How It Used To Be no longer relevant. There used to be structure to the covens; now there was nothing. Good in some ways, bad in others, like now when I had no rules, nothing to fall back on, to get help.