Switch of Fate 2

by Grace Quillen

  “When winter was over and the water began to warm, Mother and Father Catfish set out for their spawning grounds, but it turned out the five sisters were witches who had cast a spell so the fish couldn’t leave. They were trapped, forced to lay their eggs at the Springs. When the babies hatched, the sisters ate them up to the very last one. Mother Catfish couldn’t stand the pain of watching her babies be killed, so she found a shallow pool and lay there until the water dried up and she died.”

  Goldie gasped. “How awful!”

  “Yep. Father Catfish was so overcome with grief that he began to shake. He shook so hard all his scales fell off and floated to the top of the spring. That day when the witches came they found Mother Catfish’s body, and all of Father Catfish’s scales, and they thought both had died. They lifted the spell that had held Mother and Father Catfish prisoner, and made plans to capture more catfish and eat their babies, too.”

  Jameson’s voice turned dark. “But Father Catfish heard their plans and didn’t leave, even though he was finally free to do so. Instead he decided to exact his revenge on the witches. He sank himself deep down to the bottom of the springs, where no light could reach, and waited. When the witches returned the next day and walked into the spring to reset their magic, he counted on his naked skin to keep him from reflecting the sun as he used to, and he gobbled them up, except for one. A lone sister escaped his jaws, but he scared her so badly she ran away and never came back.

  “Ever since then it’s been said that Father Catfish still lurks in the bottom of the spring, waiting for the fifth witch, and that anyone who swims there or even wades in too far risks being pulled under and never heard from again. Over the years there have been a handful of unexplained disappearances that centered around the Springs. Now it’s like a haunted house, teenagers will go there to spend the night and prove you don’t die, but the thing is it’s so treacherous getting out here, you just might.”

  Cove Springs was a pool off to one side of the Nantahala River, a few miles upriver from the BBOC. Just a slow seep that picked up after rainstorms, like the one they'd had on Monday that had washed that guy’s body downstream. Flint had been to the Springs dozens of times over the years starting, as Jameson said, when he was a cocky teenager bound to prove it was possible. Nothing strange had ever happened to him or his buddies, but Flint had felt… different there. Like he needed to watch his back and be open to magic at the same time.

  Goldie gave him a fascinated look, no longer nervous. Which made no sense, but Flint was going with it. Jameson needed to keep talking.

  “What about the Warrior Woman?” Flint said.

  Jameson didn’t say anything. Maybe walked faster. Acted like he didn’t hear. Goldie turned questioning eyes to Flint's. Ah, right, Jameson was touchy about the Warrior Woman, since she’d first appeared around the time of the Reckoning, when Jameson had lost his own family to vampires. It was like asking Flint about bloodblades. He knuckled the tight scar at his neck.

  He spoke softly to Goldie. “Remember I told you about the Reckoning? When the vampires turned the tide of the war and…”

  He trailed off. He’d always thought the vampires had won, even though they’d also taken a huge blow in numbers, had to, because they’d been hard to spot until recently. But they didn’t win. The war was not even close to being over. And there were switches again...

  Goldie turned to look at him again, urging him with her eyes to continue. He did. “Ever since then, there’s been rumors, legends, and sightings of a fierce, otherworldly woman haunting Cove Springs. She’s only shown up to shifters, so this legend is more covert than the ones you’ll hear in town, like the White Wolf of the Forest.” He looked up, but Jameson didn’t slow or act like he heard.

  Flint warmed to his story. “She haunts Cove Springs, it’s said, looking for something or someone. Dressed like a Cherokee in a deerskin skirt and top, with a body they say, ‘curves like the Nantahala River itself’. She winds acorns and rocks and vines in her wild, black hair, and has a whole string of knives, spearheads, and sharp sticks hanging from her waist.”

  Goldie looked at him over her shoulder again, eyes shining, like she loved the imagery. “Fancy.”

  “Shifters who see her usually remember when they wake up somewhere crazy, doing something they don’t understand. One guy, a wolf, woke up miles away in the Murphy Marble Belt up in the hills, digging up graphite. Another one, a bear, went home and burnt up half his winter firewood down to charcoal while his wife yelled and tried to stop him, but when he woke up he claimed he didn’t remember a thing from the second he saw the Warrior Woman. Most shifters stay away just because they don’t want to get caught having to explain themselves, but there are others who says she’s not even real.”

  A brand new voice, young, sounding almost bored despite its shaking, broke in. “She is real. She saved my life. And by the way, what took you so long?”

  Chapter 24 - Brittany’s Bomb

  A young woman with muddy hair stepped out from behind a boulder ten feet up the path. Every inch of skin Goldie could see was smudged with dirt and her clothes were in tatters. The poor girl was practically naked; even her feet were bare. But she was alive, and that was more than Goldie had dared to hope for when she’d agreed to join this expedition.

  When Lucas had told Goldie, his big eyes wide and scared, that he’d overheard his sister and her boyfriend arguing about going someplace they weren’t supposed to, and his big sister had yelled at him that he better not tell anyone, Goldie had reassured Lucas that he’d done the right thing. It had been hard on him, all the talking, but he’d made her understand. She’d called the police immediately, but she’d called Jameson, too, because vampires were involved, and he was a law enforcement ranger and part of The Cause.

  When Flint had asked her to help them on their search for Brittany, she couldn’t refuse. Didn’t want to. For so many reasons. If she could help, she would. And Flint, Flint was there. Big, strong, doing the right thing. She wanted to do it with him.

  Jameson knelt to dig a blanket out of his kit. Flint grabbed it, and took it to the young woman, placing it around her shoulders. “Everyone has been worried sick.”

  Goldie stood off to the side. She wasn’t needed after all.

  Jameson led Brittany to sit on a boulder. “What happened?”

  The young woman began her story. “Toby’s the one who wanted to come here, not me. We fought about it until the day before we left, but then he gave up, said we could go out east towards Pisgah Forest like I wanted. Well, out in Pisgah we had a fight and I told him to bring me home, but then on the way we made up, and he suggested we come up to the Springs. I didn’t want to fight again, so I said yes.” Tears spilled over her lashes and cleared tracks down her dirty cheeks. “And he died for it.”

  Her lip trembling, Brittany continued. “He wanted to help me learn to sh-” She looked to Goldie, but Flint patted her hand. “She’s cool, she knows.”

  Brittany nodded and kept going, her voice directed at her lap. “I never could shift, because I’m only half, but then I met Toby, and he’s only half too, and he could shift. He said he would teach me, that it would be easier for me to learn if we were surrounded by nature.”

  She sniffled. “And it totes sucked. I didn’t shift once. That’s what our fight was about, because I didn’t think it was going to work. But Toby thought that coming to the Spring would help. He said it’s magic for shifters.”

  Jameson gave a disbelieving grunt. “It’s deadly for shifters.”

  The younger woman practically spat at her rescuers. “Well, it worked. I shifted for the first time in my life. We ran around the woods together as deer and even went skinny-dipping in the Spring every sunset to celebrate.” A sad smile twisted Brittany’s lips. “That’s when he attacked us.”

  Oh man, Goldie did not want to hear this part. But she had to.

  Brittany’s cheeks pinked as she went on. “I was getting my clothes on and Toby was gathering wood
for a fire when I heard him shout at someone. I started that way and then I heard-” Her voice broke, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “I heard him scream. And when I peeked out from the rocks there was a man kneeling over him with this big, black knife.”

  Brittany took several shaky breaths. “I couldn’t help it, I screamed. He looked right at me and cursed, like he was pissed to have someone else to kill.” Her face crumpled. “I ran, and he chased me. I tried to shift but I was so scared I couldn’t focus enough to do it. He was maybe ten feet behind me when I came around a boulder and saw her.” She looked up at each of them. “She’s real and she saved me from that vampire. I don’t know how. There was lots of shouting, pink light everywhere. I hid behind a rock, and only came out when she said it was safe.”

  Goldie’s mind raced. What Brittany described sounded like a switch to her. A quick glance at the men showed them looking at each other over Brittany’s head with identical quizzical expressions.

  “She told me to shift, to hide between those boulders, and then she disappeared, too. I stayed shifted and curled up on top of my clothes and waited. I only came out to eat because I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know how to get home through the woods, and every night I heard him out there, crashing around, cursing. Looking for me.” She shuddered.

  Flint looked at her. “Let’s get you home. Can you walk?”

  Brittany nodded and stood, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. The pine needles beneath her feet shifted, and Goldie spied something glinting in the dirt. She lunged forward to pick it up.

  It was a metallic gray prism of rock, about one inch long and slender, with one end pyramidal in shape and the other jagged and brittle, as if it had been broken off. Gray stayed behind on Goldie’s fingers as she turned the crystal this way and that.

  Brittany’s voice broke in, just over Goldie’s shoulder. “Looks like one of the rocks the Warrior Woman had in her hair. A few of them were shiny and jagged like that.”

  Jameson held out his hand and Goldie dropped the rock in his palm. “Stibnite, looks like. But this stuff is only found out West.”

  Jameson palmed the bit of rock and tucked it into his pocket. He spoke to Brittany. “Are you up for shifting? We can get out quicker. I scented a stash of clothes on the way out that we can pick up on our way back. Something in them should fit you.”

  Brittany shrugged. “Sure.” She went for it, shifting smoothly like she’d been doing it her whole life. Her jaw lengthened, her nose extended, her brown eyes going wider and rounder. Slender shoulders and hips grew a thin layer of fur as arms and legs stretched to graceful lengths, joints altered, bones thinned, and painted toes became dainty hooves. The whitetail deer gave a delicate shake and her ruined clothes fell to the ground in tatters.

  Flint nodded in approval. “Nice. You’re good.”

  A ghost of a giggle flitted through Goldie’s mind. Was that-? Could she hear-? Oh, man this was so weird. But as many hours as she had spent pretending to be a princess with magical animal friends, she really shouldn’t be at such a loss. I’ve been training for this all my life.

  But her attention was stolen by Jameson. While Goldie had been watching Brittany, Jameson had transformed into a white wolf.

  She knew it.

  “You wrecked my car, you big mutt!” she said, the words slipping out before she could filter them. Whoops.

  The enormous wolf tilted his head at her like an overgrown dog, and Jameson’s voice rang through her head. Why do you think I offered you the duplex ten minutes after we met?

  Jameson’s wolf made a little snuffling sound and turned down the path they’d come in on, glancing back to make sure Brittany followed. The two shifters rapidly picked up speed until they were both leaping over the ground, covering huge distances with every pace.

  Goldie was almost jealous. “Must be nice. Now we have to do it the hard way.”

  Flint laughed just a little, his voice low. “Too much poison ivy around here for doing it the hard way.”

  Oh my word, had he just said that? She looked at Flint. He was staring at her like he could barely hold himself back from crushing her in his arms and kissing her. She didn’t even know what had happened. But she liked it.

  Helpless against the way her body responded, Goldie imagined Flint pulling her off this path and backing her up against a tree, lifting her legs around his waist, plunging deeper inside her than any man had ever been before. Or maybe- she looked around- he’d bend her over that big rock and take her from behind, his massive body sheltering hers as his hips pumped, their sweaty flesh slapping together in time with every moan and scream. No doubt, whatever happened, Goldie would not be in charge. And no doubt as well that she would relish every moment of it.

  Flint stepped closer and slipped his strong, thick fingers into Goldie’s hair at the nape of her neck, waiting just a beat to study her, see if she was telling him yes or no. Yes! Yes! Go! All systems! She couldn’t speak. He practically growled at her. “Jesus, Goldie, you are so sexy, do you know that? The look in your eyes just now, like you were imagining all the things I’d do to you… Fuck.”

  He’d seen what she was thinking? Oh, she was in trouble. His eyes flitted to her neck, her chest. Goldie’s nipples were hard as pebbles and lightly pulsing. They pressed against the fabric of her bra, aching for more stimulation. Goldie imagined Flint using his other hand, the one not holding her head still with the barest tension, to slip under her shirt and pull the restricting undergarment down for a better view, then being so overcome with desire that his mouth followed to feast on her flesh through the thin cotton barrier. A shuddering breath left her, bringing Flint’s gaze back to hers.

  Searing brown eyes left no doubt of his intentions as Flint’s face moved closer to Goldie’s, his free hand coming to rest on her hip, turning her to face him head-on. Goldie groaned in the back of her throat. She loved that Flint was big and strong enough to put her where he wanted her and not let her clumsiness mess it up. Goldie wondered if he’d possess the same mastery of her body in… other ways.

  Their lips met in a steamy tangle that immediately ratcheted up to hot lust. Flint’s hand at Goldie’s nape held her deliciously captive until his fingers fisted in her hair and pulled, exposing her throat to his rough kisses, to the sweet thrill of knowing he wanted her just as badly as she did him, that they could have each other, if only-

  Oh no.

  All control, all manners, all thoughts were shoved rudely aside, as power and hate welled up equally inside her. She shoved away from Flint, whirling to face the figure who’d materialized twenty feet behind them on the path.

  A man. No, a vampire. Dark. Tall. Wisps of black smoke that looked more like liquid clung to his clothes and hair before seeming to disappear, drawn inside him. Black hair, white stripe. Awesome. One of the really bad ones. Switch-hate and regular-person-hate surged inside her, co-mingling. He’d killed a young man for no reason other than that he was evil. He deserved every hole Goldie poked in him.

  She was ready. She whipped her knife off her belt before the surprise at seeing them dropped off his face.

  He’d be surprised when he died, too.

  She ran for him.

  Chapter 25 - Vampire Leapfrog

  Shit! Flint cursed internally as the fabric of Goldie’s shirt slipped from between his two fingers and she was off on the hunt.

  The vampire, when he appeared, had stood still for a moment, seeming as shocked as they were to have encountered each other. Flint had taken in at once the black hair with a white stripe and the distinct odor of pine and bitter herbs that overrode Goldie’s sweetly herbal scent. Fatherborne. Unfortunately for both males Goldie’s instinct was lightning-fast, and before either of them could react she was armed and on the move.

  The bottom dropped out of Flint’s stomach as he watched Goldie give chase. This wasn’t like it had been with Cora, when Flint had been eager to see a switch take out a bloodsucking monster and wasn’t too mindfu
l of the cost to any one member of The Cause. No, this time there was something precious to lose, and Flint would be damned if he let that happen.

  Flint shifted with a roar and barrelled after the pair, his bear lumbering like a tank, taking out small trees and rolling over felled logs as he gained on Goldie and her prey, sending his thoughts ahead of him. I got you, switch. Right here with you.

  No coherent thoughts came back to him, just a raw bloodlust that felt all too similar to his own. Goldie was locked in to the fight now, and Flint had no way to get her out. All he could do was be there to do his job as a shifter of The Cause and maybe they’d both get out of this alive. Then… what. No, he focused on the hunt, ran faster, his eyes on his switch, his charge, his…

  Goldie had reached the Fatherborne, was leaping at him, but before she could Flint had an impression of the vampire’s edges going blurry, wavy with little tendrils of what looked like black smoke but thick, opaque, like they had a weight and purpose to them. Not moving down like liquid or up like smoke, but curling around the vampire’s form like tiny snakes until he disappeared, fading out of sight, slower than Flint had seen it happen before but still only lasting milliseconds. Something was wrong.

  He phazed! Flint yelled at Goldie with his mind. He could come ba-

  Before he could finish the thought the vampire reappeared a few yards from where he’d been, looking taxed. The sunlight. Slows them down, makes phazing difficult. He must be desperate to find Brittany.

  Goldie had already course-corrected and was closing in fast. The bloodsucker’s lips curled in a snarl and he tensed. Those same miniscule, black snakes of thick, shiny smoke curled around his body again, and now Flint knew what that meant. He’s gonna phaze!

  Goldie vocalized, a fierce yell, and pushed off hard with one foot. Pebbles shifted under her feet and she lunged, but she was clumsy. Flint ran for her, but could not stop her from tripping over a root and pitching face-first at the ground. Her knife skittered across the rocks. Shoot, she said in his mind, and then, just before her face went splat, green lightning bubbles blossomed out of her fingers. She was too close to the ground.