by L. A. Jones
“Yes, they might be,” said Dereck, shifting into his werewolf form again. “But you sure as hell are not!”
With the speed and power of a tornado, Dereck leapt from the staircase towards Aradia. He landed a few feet in front of her, bounded once, and tackled her. She was ready and rolled with him. They wrestled and she ended up pinned, Dereck’s paw-like hands wrapped around her throat. He started to squeeze.
She closed her eyes, and in spite of Dereck crushing her windpipe so strongly that her face was beginning to turn blue, she calmed herself. You tried it that way once, she said. You won’t win fighting him hand to hand. Aradia managed to smile.
Dereck’s face became a mask of confusion only to change to pain when Aradia wrapped her own hands around his throat and summoned her flame. She smelled burning fur and flesh. He howled in agony, but still held her throat.
She kneed him in his gut and pulled him close enough to head-butt him. His grip faltered and she gasped a deep breath. Following through on her combo attack, she rolled him off of her, sprang to her feet, and kicked him sharply in the face.
“You really should have taken my parents hostage. That way I might have wanted to hold back!”
She clasped her hands together like a praying mantis, and from her clasped hands emerged a huge whip of flame.
Dereck scrambled to his feet. On all fours he stalked a circle around Aradia, just outside her whip’s reach. His cockiness was gone.
Aradia cracking the fire whip. He wasn’t sure of what he was seeing, or if it were even real. He pounced and came down at her from a high arc, attacking her from above. She whipped at him with her flame construct, lashing him across the torso from left shoulder to right hip. He screeched in pain and completely failed on his landing, coming down in a heavy thud which snapped the decrepit old floorboards.
“Maybe coming here wasn’t the dumbest thing I’ve ever done!” Aradia chuckled, cracking the whip again, this time across his back.
Dereck ran towards the front door.
Aradia, however, had other ideas.
“Oh hells to the no you don’t!” she shouted, stamping her foot on the floor. The doors glossed over and became immovable. Dereck pried at the handles, but they didn’t even shake on their ancient old hinges.
Aradia smiled as she said, “Now this is when it gets good.”
It had been almost impossible for Dax and Roy to find Aradia, but once they noted the flashes and loud booms coming from the manor on Warlock Hill, it definitely narrowed the search. They raced through the forest and Roy smashed himself into one of the manor’s old front doors which, to his surprise, did not crash open.
Picking himself up, he and Dax looked at one another.
Dax proposed, “Window?”
Roy nodded.
In unison the two jumped and crashed through their respective window panes. Dax was careful to use his arms to protect his heart from any wayward shards of wood his arrival might have flung about.
The duo found Aradia and Dereck battling on the second floor.
Dereck tried dodging the fireballs Aradia threw at him, and in return, she tried to avoid him whenever he lunged or swiped at her for an attack.
“I am going to rip you to shreds and feed what is left of you to pigeons!” he threatened.
Aradia sighed as she swung herself around a huge pillar and said, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but so far you have yet to hurt me! And between you and me, I don't think you ever will!”
Dereck roared as he slashed his claws at her, but Aradia ducked every blow.
“Hold still dammit!” he finally cried out.
“Now what fun would that be?”
He furiously slashed as quickly as he could while Aradia tried to dodge the blow again.
Aradia didn’t know whether he lured her to overextend herself or if she had merely gotten overconfident, but either way, his claws finally made contact. His hand managed to scrape against Aradia's belly. The wound was not deep, but it was painful, and again there was much blood.
Aradia cried out in pain, and the fireball she was holding dissipated. Dereck grinned wickedly as she dropped to her knees. He moved in for the kill.
He moved in for the kill, only to be sacked from the side by another werewolf. Roy and Dereck rolled over one another, Roy swiping and biting at him more ferociously than he’d ever attacked anything. Dereck was larger, stronger, and more experienced than Roy. He was also injured, tired, and not nearly as incensed.
Still, even with the field somewhat leveled, experience won out over youth. Dereck got Roy on his back, and opened his mouth to bite out the younger werewolf’s throat. Aradia summoned a fireball to stop, but the pain from her stomach was too great, and she couldn’t.
“Nooo!” Aradia cried out.
Time seemed to freeze. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She’d come here to protect her loved ones, and now she was going to be responsible for the death of a loved one. She realized in that instant that she didn’t really know for sure how she felt about Dax or Roy, but she loved them both in some capacity, and she couldn’t lose either of them.
Wonderfully, she didn’t have to.
Dax had climbed to the rafters above the pair and crept through the darkness where Aradia and the werewolves hadn’t noticed him. Now he struck, like a rock spider snatching its prey. He dropped himself from the rafters and landed on the elder werewolf’s back. He used an old, rusty fireplace shovel as a gag, forcing it crosswise into the wolf’s gaping maw, keeping him from closing his jaws.
Then he did some biting of his own, flicking out his fangs and sinking them deeply into the wolf’s throat.
Dereck screamed, releasing his hold on Roy and clawing at Dax as he had earlier at Aradia. Unlike Aradia, though, his scratches and cuts had little effect.
Dax struck again and again, like a tiger rattlesnake or a black mamba. Now it was Dereck’s blood flowing freely.
His injuries were mounting rapidly, and his strength was waning. Soon he was no longer even swiping at Dax. The large werewolf fell to his knees.
“Dax,” Aradia said. Still Dax mounted his assault. “Dax!”
He stopped and looked at her, mouth and chin dripping with werewolf blood.
“That’s enough,” she said. He tilted his head curiously. Roy, too, who was crouched and ready to strike, seemed uncertain of her meaning. “He’s incapacitated.”
“Aradia,” Dax warned, but she only shushed him and waved him back. He complied.
Dereck, still in his wolf form, managed to hold himself up, albeit unsteadily, on his knees. He was burned, bruised, bleeding, and broken.
His mouth opened and closed several times. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to speak, or attempting in vain to bite her. Finally, he spat out, “What the hell are you, you crazy bitch?”
At this, Aradia smirked while balling her hand into a fist.
“I’ll give you a hint,” she stage whispered. “You’re only one letter off!”
Then she clocked him. He fell over backwards, finally, mercifully unconscious.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Holy buckets,” Ross muttered as his daughter and her two companions strolled in the front door. Dax’s mouth and clothes were stained dark red with recent blood, and Roy was in his wolf form.
“Oh my,” Liza agreed.
Between the three of them, the trio carried another werewolf. Roy, on all fours, shouldered most of the burden.
“Dereck Caradoc, I presume?” Mr. Dayton asked.
Dax nodded. Roy shrugged him off his shoulders and onto the Dayton’s sofa, the same sofa upon which Aradia had only recently tossed him. Mr. Dayton wrinkled his nose. Dax interpreted that as a sign that they’d soon have a new sofa.
“You all didn’t, ah…” Ross asked.
“Kill him?” Aradia finished.
“Well…”
“No,” Mr. Dayton replied. “They did not.”
“How do you know. Can you hear his hear
tbeat?”
“Dead werewolves revert to their human form. If he remains a wolf, he lives.”
“Bah!” Ross replied. “I should have known that. American Werewolf in London used to be one of my favorites.”
“Um,” Liza said, not believing how cavalierly her husband was handling the situation, “what happened?”
“We let Aradia show him what happens to people when they cross her. Poor bloke never had a chance!”
Aradia smiled at him, causing Roy to growl softly. “That’s not exactly how it happened. I got by with a little help from my friends.”
Ross pulled out his phone. “This is amazing. I’m calling the police now.”
Mr. Dayton stepped forward and interrupted him, saying, “I would greatly appreciate if you held off on that for a moment.”
Ross looked at the other man. So far, he liked the vampire well enough, but his opinions could change quickly based on how this conversation played out. “Alright. Say your piece.”
“I believe we can all agree it wise to at least wait until he resumes his human form before notifying your human authorities.”
Ross chewed on that. “Yeah, yeah that’s a good point.”
“Further, though, there is a bigger picture to consider. Dereck has proven himself unpredictable and disrespectful of both human and hidden laws. Even if he were arrested, there is no guarantee that he would not simply shift again, in front of humans even.”
“I hear you,” Ross said, “and I don’t mean to disrespect your people or your customs, but I can’t let that stop me from doing my duty. We can’t just let him walk. He must stand before a court for his crimes.”
“Agreed,” Mr. Dayton said. “But what kind of court? What kind of authorities are more equipped to deal with him?”
Understanding dawned on Ross. “You’re talking jurisdiction with me?”
“After a fashion,” Mr. Dayton replied. “He has violated both human and hidden crimes, but can only be judged by one standard of justice.”
Aradia cringed. She didn’t like the idea of hidden justice.
Ross was wavering, but not completely convinced.
“There are the children to consider as well,” Mr. Dayton played his trump card.
“What do you mean?” Ross asked.
Aradia piped up, saying, “He means what I was telling you about before, the highest hidden law, remaining hidden. If Dereck tells humans about me and Roy and Dax, then the three of us could be punished.”
“Well, that isn’t justice!” Liza exclaimed.
“No, it’s not,” Aradia agreed. “It’s not justice at all. But for now, at least, it’s the way things are in hidden society.”
Ross asked, “What about us, then? All of us? Isn’t everybody in this room guilty of that same crime just by discussing this with Liza and me?”
“Your situation is a special one,” Mr. Dayton explained. “I’d have discussed this more earlier, if not for the interruption. Aradia, you are the last of your kind. As such, you find yourself in an unusual situation.”
“What kind of situation,” she asked cautiously.
“We will discuss the details at length, if you wish. Suffice to say that not all hidden rules apply quite so strongly to you as to others. You are permitted human allies who know our secrets.”
“But if Dereck started telling the world about us…”
“Not protected,” Mr. Dayton finished.
They all mulled on their options. Finally Ross spoke. “If I turn the accused over to your justice system, you give me your word he will answer for his crimes?”
“Indeed I do,” Mr. Dayton replied.
“He will be judged before some form of impartial court which will rule and issue judgment based on the merits of his case?”
“I believe it will be so.”
“That wasn’t exactly a yes.”
“No,” Mr. Dayton agreed, “it wasn’t.”
Ross sighed. “Liza, I’m about to put my phone away, but not without you agreeing with me that this is the best course.”
Liza nodded. “Aradia? What about you, honey. I think your decision’s the only one any of us should really want on this matter.”
She’d been afraid of that. She knew the human world couldn’t handle a creature like Dereck. Yet, if she threw him to the hidden world, anything could happen. She hated her options.
“Dereck is hidden,” she finally said. “He chose that life, and he chose to violate hidden laws. He did violate hidden laws, right?”
Mr. Dayton nodded.
“Alright, then. I say hidden court.”
“I will request a tribunal,” Mr. Dayton said.
“I’ll let Kaiser know his dad’s killer is getting justice,” Aradia said. Her father nodded. He was proud of her. Even now, she firmly and clearly understood that Dereck deserved justice, not vengeance.
It was late by the time they’d finished their preparations. Dereck was bound and sedated. Mr. Dayton had a veritable pharmacy in his basement. The hidden tribunal had been arranged, and as Aradia understood, representatives from all the hidden races with substantial populations in the area would be present for it.
“It will soon be dawn,” Mr. Dayton declared. “I sense it’s approach, and while I need not necessarily sleep the day, on this one I would prefer to do so.”
Ross yawned. “Yeah, I think we’re all on a vampire schedule.”
“Before you go, though, there is one final matter I wish to discuss. Aradia, there is something you must know regarding your lineage. Your heritage.”
“Is being a witch of the hidden race a bad thing?” Aradia asked.
“No,” said Mr. Dayton, “quite the contrary, it is an amazing thing. The problem is, Aradia, no one has seen a hidden witch in over three hundred years. It is common knowledge, apparently false knowledge, that all the witches were eliminated.”
“Eliminated?” Aradia repeated. “What do you mean?”
“He means genocide,” Ross said, recognizing a euphemism when he heard one.
“You know of the Salem witch trials. The victims of the trials were human, every one. The incident coincided, though, with a not-unrelated mass hysteria in the hidden world. The other hidden races at the time believed that the witches had betrayed us, and so they embarked upon the most shameful crusade the hidden world has seen. They hunted down and killed every last witch.”
“Every...” Aradia started in disbelief.
“Or so they thought,” Mr. Dayton concluded, looking directly at Aradia. All eyes in the room, in fact, rested on Aradia.
She shook her head and said, “No, surely not everyone. I mean, not everyone but me. They couldn’t. The Nazis tried this in World War II and they failed.”
“I mean no disrespect to the human race,” Mr. Dayton said, nodding toward the humans in the room, “but we of the hidden race, when we decide to do something, we do it very efficiently.”
He emphasized the word ‘very’ in a deep tone to indicate to Aradia how serious he was. Aradia did not want to believe it. Yet, Mr. Dayton wasn’t leaving much room for ambiguity.
“But if what you say is true,” Aradia sputtered, “then wouldn't that make me...”
“Yes, Aradia. Not only are you a witch, but you are also the last of your kind. You, Aradia, are the last witch.”
Chapter Thirty
Aradia sat by herself at a Starbucks, nursing her extra-whip gingerbread latte. Normally she’d hang at the SilverMoon, but after the recent events, she needed a little time to herself.
She was thus quite disappointed when Tristan, of all people, slid into the chair opposite her.
“Tristan,” she said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really don’t want to deal with you right now. Say whatever you have to say, and please go.”
“Okay,” he replied, surprising her. “I just wanted to tell you that Dereck wasn’t the lone wolf you and your little team make him out to be. At least, not by choice.”
She raised an eye
brow. “What do you mean? How do you know that?”
“I did some digging,” he replied. “He had a pack, once, a pretty good sized one. He even had a wife. They were systematically wiped out, Aradia, one by one, real genocide style. Dereck was the only survivor.”
“Oh, God. Who was responsible?”
Tristan shook his head. “That’s all I got. I do know he blamed vampires, though. I don’t know if he was right to do so. This all happened a while back, and you know our kind doesn’t exactly keep records of this sort of thing. Apparently he was always kind of on the crazy side. Even in the pack, he was something of a sociopath. I guess when they were wiped out, it pushed him over the edge.”
“I guess that explains some of his rage.”
Tristan nodded.
“When did this happen?”
“Over the course of several weeks, a little over six months ago.”
“Tristan, why are you telling me this?”
“Why are you so suspicious of my motives?”
“You don’t do anything for nothing. You don’t do anything good for nothing, at least. What do you expect in return?”
“Nothing. Just take the information as a gift. Maybe it can make up for some of the torture through which I’ve put you and your friends.”
Aradia replied, “Gasp, Tristan, was that an apology?”
“Not at all,” he said, grabbing the back of his chair and rising. “Just a gift.”
Aradia and Roy strode through Salem Woods. Unlike the last few times she’d been there, this time they stayed on a path and enjoyed the scenery.
“What was it like for you?” Aradia asked regarding being called to speak before the hidden tribunal.
“Weird,” Roy said. “They didn’t tell me anything or let me stay after they were done questioning me. There were four of them on the panel. They didn’t introduce themselves, but I could tell they were a werewolf, a vampire, a fae, and a shapeshifter.”
“Sense of smell?” Aradia asked playfully.