by T. F. Walsh
She focused almost all of her attention on her injury. She imagined the bones of her wounded leg scraping together, her muscles aching, pulling, and bleeding as they protested against the unnatural and sharp twist of her shin. This almost entirely counteracted her earlier spell, bringing the pain back to her, and again making it difficult and almost impossible move. But even this struggle she funneled into her new spell. When she hit him with this, he needed to be immobilized by the intensity of these sensations. The pain needed to explode in his brain, shaking both his focus and his sense of reality. He had to be convinced, utterly convinced, that he was wounded so severely that he could not move, and that he had to surrender, or this would all be for nothing. She would lose and, in the center of the arena, it would all be very public.
What a way to risk everything.
She had perhaps a hundred yards to go before she entered the arena. That was more than enough time to work the spell into something with enough bite to stop this vampire. Now to consider where she would hide. Maybe Mr. Broken Face could help her. He was so emotionless, he might not even react at all if she suddenly appeared in front of him.
Wait. That might actually work. Of all of those in the arena, he seemed the least involved in the entire process. He was napping the first afternoon of the trials, he never lost his cool during their sparring, and as she had studied the people in the arena earlier, she’d noticed that he was the only one who had no active desire to beat her or to see her beaten. He really did seem the only logical choice. The vampire prince saving he wolf princess. How romantic.
Gritting her teeth against her pain, she pushed on, and finally ran into the arena.
She ran quickly toward her “prince,” climbing the wall, using only her legs because she needed her hands to work the spell. The pain was almost enough to make her faint. It was making her dizzy even as she fought it and funneled it into a ball for her spell, but this had to work. It had to.
• • •
Caleb could tell, even from this distance, that she was hurt very badly. She was bleeding, limping. She was aware of the shape she was in, wasn’t she? Where was she running to? Why had she come back? This was certainly an unorthodox plan of attack for one so injured. What could she be thinking? His people had long insisted that these wolves possessed limited cognitive skills. But this was beyond illogical. This was idiotic. She was going to get herself killed, running injured, into a deathtrap with no escape route. She was going to die, right here, in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Wait … was she running toward him?
• • •
She was close. She could see him standing in the same place she had left him. Even his posture had not changed — he was still standing with his feet placed apart and his arms crossed over his chest — but as she neared him, she saw that, finally, she had surprised him. Not a lot, of course: his brow was only slightly wrinkled, as though he were moderately confused. Still, it was good news. She was launching toward him, and this was his only reaction. This meant that her plan just might work.
She leaped up to the ledge he stood on. Running toward him, she saw that his arms opened. He looked as though he were going to catch or embrace her. But she knew him better than that. She slowed down to a jog, and said more nonchalantly than she felt, “Do you mind if I use you for a minute?” She was a little shocked by her own flippancy, but she needed to continue to throw him off-guard if this was going to work. She just hoped he would play along. “Don’t move. Just stand there. You can do that, can’t you?” She hissed out between her teeth. He didn’t know what she wanted, but clearly he was curious enough to participate because he simply raised one disdainful eyebrow and then re-crossed his arms.
The precious prince had clearly decided that he would submit to her childish little whims. She stood behind him moving a little slowly so that she didn’t make him suddenly anxious. She really hoped this worked. It seemed to make logical sense in her head. She wasn’t exactly sure of vampire physiology, but for a vampire to live, they had to have blood flowing through them. Hopefully, with Caleb standing in front of her, the other vampire would not perceive her immediately. She had a few moments left. She rested her back against the dark corner on the wall, taking some of the weight off of her leg. Working the last of her spell, she was careful to keep her hand motions and her words from being too carefully seen by even beta near her.
Almost immediately after she finished her spell, he entered, his eyes darting around the arena to spot her. Her plan was working. He was disoriented by her positioning. She had to move quickly, though — she didn’t know how long his confusion would last. She moved off of the wall and peered around Caleb. Then she blasted her feelings and her illness toward the enemy vampire as quickly as she could. He was only moving a little, so her aim was true. It ricocheted through him, and he fell to the ground.
The spell had weakened her considerably, and she lost her balance, starting to fall forward. She fell into Caleb or he had moved toward her — she was in too much pain and too tired to actually understand how she had come to be in his arms.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Your spell worked.” His voice shook her entire body, like it always did, its timbre seeming to pass though her. She shivered. But her shiver passed down into her leg and she was jolted with pain again. She sucked in air in between clenched teeth and closed her eyes against the pain. He spoke again, “You should know. He is trying to move toward you.”
Her eyes shot open. She had hoped he would surrender because the pain was immense. It was doubled, perhaps even tripled, but still he was crawling along the floor. Had her spell not worked?
She scanned his feelings. No, her spell had worked. He felt her leg pain, and he did believe that she had somehow injured him. But instead of forcing his withdrawal, he was more determined than ever to harm her. She needed to act quickly, while he still believed he was broken, while his movement was limited.
She uttered a quick “Thank you,” to Caleb, and then she pushed past him and jumped down to the arena floor. She had to make this vampire withdraw. She wasn’t going to last much longer.
Approaching the vampire, she said, as bravely as she could, “You know, blood sucker, if you destroy all the blood vessels to any part of a vamp’s body, they can no longer use it. Isn’t that true?” She didn’t stop for an answer. She waited just long enough for the idea to sink in, then she continued. “You know what? I think it is. And I think you’re awfully close to that now. Blood’s pumping out of that leg so fast. I bet all your little veins are drying up,” she said gleefully. “There’ll be nothing you can do about it in a few minutes’ time.” Knowing vampires needed blood to live, she taunted, “Then, if you keep bleeding, well, death’s on its way. But don’t you worry. I’ll spare you. Since you can’t move and since you’re too stupid to withdraw, I’ll do you a favor and kill the leg right now. Gotta stop that bleeding. If the leg dies, the rest of you lives. Doesn’t that sound good to you?”
She waited a few seconds, watching the vampire’s eyes widen in concern. She was going to reverse the spell, and she could only hope that, in the sudden absence of pain, the vampire would believe that he felt numbness and loss. If it went according to plan, he would get scared enough to withdraw, thinking she had damaged his leg. Grabbing her own leg, she smiled a little bit crazily at the vampire, and, misdirecting his gaze, she used her free hand to point at his “injured” leg. She managed a weak laugh. Then, while he wasn’t paying attention, she used her other hand to break her spell. As pain returned to her leg, the vampire’s eyes widened, his face went white with fear.
“My leg! What have you done to me, you witch? My leg! Doctor, help! I need a doctor!” He kept yelling, “I quit. I withdraw. I withdraw. I withdraw. I need a doctor! Get me a doctor!”
She should have corrected him or calmed him down, and she would have, if she didn’t need a doctor so desperatel
y herself. As it was, she just collapsed and waited and considered how nice it was that her enemy called, ironically, for a doctor she herself didn’t have the energy to summon. Thinking, Father, see? Even fate likes to have a good laugh every once in a while, she blacked out.
Chapter 7: EVERYTHING CHANGES
What had they all thought, seeing the vampire prince carry out the pack heir? Doubtless none of them suspected that he needed her alive for his own plans to work, so if not that, then what? He could only imagine the confusion of his own people as he carried Libby to a nearby medic. He wouldn’t even consider what the wolves thought was happening. In the moment, he hadn’t given a damn what anyone thought, vampire or wolf. As he had watched her fall, he had been horrified. He had jumped out of the waiting area and into the main arena, and was running toward her before he had a single conscious thought.
The young vampire was begging for a doctor, but when he saw Caleb, he starting screaming: “My Lord. I have been injured, but I have struck down our enemy.”
Caleb had been so angry, he had yelled back at the boy, “Be quiet, you fool! She beat you.”
Surely, if the boy hadn’t made him so angry, he might have calmed down, inspected Libby’s condition with a cool head, and patiently waited for a doctor. However, as it stood, he turned away from the boy and he reached down, grabbed Libby, and trotted off the field with her in his arms. He tried to ameliorate his own foolishness by remembering that she did need a doctor. If his plan was ever going to work, she had to live. But he knew that wasn’t the reason he had leapt around like an idiot bent on rescue.
Caleb was no fool. He and Libby were enemies to be sure, but he had grown to respect her, and he would be damned if he would let her die in such a useless way.
Although she had been in tremendous pain, when he had told her that her opponent was still moving, he had felt her go rigid and tense, ready for battle. After thanking him (imagine thanking the prince of your enemy!), she had jumped into the arena and then taunted her opponent. Showing no sign of her own exhaustion, pain, or fear, she’d made the vampire afraid. She had threatened him with loss of limb and loss of life, although, in truth, she could affect neither. As she had stared down at him, she smiled. She looked like a goddess, bent on retribution, relishing her vengeance. A warrior, indeed.
It was obvious that he had misjudged her. He had thought her weak. More than that. Just a few weeks ago, he had decided that she was weak enough to reduce her pack’s power. But her will was a great force. Her will would hold her pack together; it would make war with the wolves difficult indeed. An opponent who did not know when to flee or quit was more than dangerous. If she came to power, the war would never end. If she became pack alpha, they would be locked in another stalemate for another generation or more. Now he probably did have to kill her. Well. Damn.
• • •
Although rules and nurses specified that she was not to leave her bed for any reason, Libby had already spent too much time in the hospital after her battle with Lukas, and she couldn’t take lying in this room for another second. Her head exploded with questions: why had Caleb saved her, would he talk to her now, what had her father seen during her battle, would she be allowed to continue in the trials, had she healed enough, did she have any chance of winning, especially with Caleb in the competition.
Her leg was injured, but surely she could run on it, for at least a few miles. And, technically, she was still on hospital premises. She would just run in the practice yard to the side of the building. Of course, this area was usually reserved for rehabilitation with nursing staff, but she was well enough to run, and she had to run, or she would go crazy. As she jogged, her body began to loosen up and her injured limb ached a little, stretching with the pressure her body placed on it, but it was a good pain, a healthy one. Finally stepping up the pace after a fast warm-up, she started to run. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a white shape emerge from the hospital. At first glance, she thought it was a nurse, but it was her father. He was wearing his white ceremonial robes. Something terrible must have happened.
“What have you done, daughter?”
“I’ve been training,” she answered, hoping he was talking about her leg, about right now.
“Don’t pretend to misunderstand me, Elisabeth.”
“The beta told me how you won in the match, that you used some strange spell on your opponent. What did you do?”
She looked at him closely, hoping to see a sign that he approved of the spell she had done. But her father revealed nothing.
“I was injured. I was in a considerable amount of pain. I thought for a moment that I would be unable to move. When I realized I might be immobilized, it made me think … well, I thought that, if I could send that feeling to my opponent, if I could amplify it, I would be able to immobilize him. I was right.”
“You know that the skills of our family are closely guarded, do you not?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You showed them your powers. The entire group now knows your skills. They know you can read emotions and manipulate them. How dare you make such a move?” he hissed at her. He had been disappointed with her before, but never overtly angry, never furious. “Did you simply not consider that exposing your gifts in such a public forum risked the most sacred secrets of our kind?”
“But I took precautions. No one could see my hands or hear my invocation. I am sure of it, Father, please — ”
“The beta knew. Even from where I sat it was obvious you had won without weapons or a shift. Did you think that would arouse no curiosity? You are a fool and you wielded your gifts as though you were a careless child.”
“No. I was cautious. I — ”
He held up his palm, silencing her. “The powers of our women are wholly unknown to all outside our kind. Your ability to read, to control, and to project emotions is of the utmost importance. It is essential to our survival. Without it, the strongest of our men would remain unchanged. And yet you would dare expose such things to our natural enemies.”
“I am sorry, Father.”
“An apology is not sufficient. With such knowledge, our enemies could destroy us. Their current comprehension of your spell is not relevant. If they understood your spell at all, then they might grow curious about the use and development of such a spell. If that is discovered, our way of life would be seriously at risk. You know the history of our people. You know what they did to us. They seek out our weaknesses. They target our women. They seek to destroy us and the spells that protect us. How could you forget this? How could you make such an error?”
She did know the history of the wars. How could she not know? The stories had been told and retold. They had a nearly mythic quality now, and all wolf children knew them.
The vampires and werewolves, hunted by humans, had united, using the other’s strengths as protection, hoping to outlast the superstitious attacks against their kind. The wolves needed greater cunning and strategy to escape their enemies. They also needed the security and protection wealth could afford. All of this they sought in an alliance with the vampires. For their part, the vampires needed strong protection during the day and promised cooperation with the wolves. The wolves accepted. The wolves aided them loyally, until, over time, the cloak of friendship became the habit of servitude. Their powers waned in the packs. They began to fear the effects of domestication and domination.
The wolves, seeking freedom, fought. The Great War began. The males were fierce, angry, aggressive, giving free reign to their animal nature to win battles. But it had been such a long time since they had shifted, the power of their wolf natures were too difficult to resist. Unlike the females, the males could not remember their human forms. They could not remember their families, their lives. They thought only of fighting, battles, blood. Their teeth, their claws, their instincts called out for use. But the wolf wives were worried and lon
ely. They traveled, returning to the battle, and leaving their homes, they hoped the males would eventually wake from their bloodlust.
After a time, though, it became clear that the males could not wake. Their wives stopped fighting, returning home to care for the village, for their children. But, as the war continued, the wolf wives followed their mates to the battlefields and, listening to the fighting, the wolf wives began to cry. Their mates could feel their pain, and sensing the sadness of their wives, returned to them. Leaving the scene of the battle, the wolves approached the wives. Their ears pushed back, their eyes wary, they moved slowly closer. Until, timidly, the alpha of the pack, laid his head in the lap of his wife and, finally, shifted.
The power of the wives to awaken their mates’ human natures was closely guarded. It offered tactical advantage. The males could fight fiercely, fully in the control of their animal instincts, but they could be sure they would return to the arms of their family. Although this was cause for celebration, it was also cause for alarm. A fear grew. A terror clouded the faces of the people that the monsters would learn of the wives’ magic and, in the way of the vampire, target their vulnerability.
The day finally came when the vampires attacked the wives who were only a short distance from the battle. Many wolves were lost that day, some to death, some to their shift.
“How could our people trust a leader with so little regard for our safety, with so little knowledge of our history? You seek approval for your actions, when you have done something utterly beyond redemption?” This time, he did not shout, resuming his typical indifference. His voice was coldly calm and reasonable. He talked as though he were reprimanding a child, as though he expected her to make these kinds of errors.