by Kaye Draper
I sighed. Wasn’t that exactly what Death had said to me? “I don’t know what to do,” I said softly. I felt trapped. We had not one, but two groups of powerful enemies. Even if the Whitehalls could get the witches to stop helping the hunters, that still left the other organization. Cloud sat at my feet as I paced, claws out, wanting to kill something.
Of course she was all calm and resigned.
Though she did look less cold and closed than usual.
“I think--" she began.
But then she bolted to her feet and I spun around with a growl. The creatures scattered, but I could feel them around us. Hiding, but not gone. Watchful.
A witch was coming.
A strong one. And further off, I could sense more of them, their magical energy like a beacon.
I pulled myself up straight when Tommy’s dad came into the clearing. “Wendigo. Hunter.” He nodded to us. He was dressed down, in worn jeans and a thick brown sweater that blended in to the trees around us. Hiking boots. A backpack?
I crossed my arms over my chest and planted my feet. “Witchie.”
He took a deep breath. “My coven has pulled its members from the service of the hunters.” The corner of his lip twitched. “And some of them have also left any other organizations that deal with the supernatural.”
Well, that was easy.
Now what?
Cloud stepped forward. “Are they willing to help us?”
Ah, good question Cloud. That was my little chieftess… or, whatever. Just because they weren’t helping the bad guys didn’t mean the covens were going to help us.
Caldwell the seventy-fifth nodded. “One of our own has been… murdered,” his voice caught on that. But God, he was talking about his daughter. I wanted to hug him. I might have been coming down with something. Did wendigos get sick?
“The hunters must be brought to task for their actions,” he continued. “And there are some among our coven who believe the hunters’ dogma is flawed.”
I snorted. Some among them. Like his one surviving daughter. I wondered if anyone else shared that view? Some of the witches might have joined the hunters, but I got the feeling relations between the two groups were generally a bit strained.
“So, we deal with the hunters first?” I said, uncrossing my arms, forcing myself to relax. Ignoring how badly I wanted to eat a hunter. Or ten.
Cloud shook her head. “First, we talk to the witches. We need them to meet you. We need to know they will support you.”
I ran a hand through my hair. I swear it was already longer. And… my horns were growing back. Rapidly. As if my body was protesting any attempt to appear human. “You want me to be their mascot?”
Cloud rolled her eyes. “Who, exactly, is at the center of all this? Who speaks to the gods, Tess?” She snorted, and I knew she still wasn’t completely over her anger at the world. “Certainly not me.”
I left that alone. For now.
“Well, Pops,” I said, turning to the witch. “Do you have any idea where we could pow-wow?”
He shook his head at me. Then he rolled his eyes. People did that a lot around me. I was feeling generous though, so I didn’t flip him off.
“Follow me,” he said, turning and striding off into the woods. He didn’t look back to make sure we were following.
“I begin to see where Tommy and his brother get their… personality,” Cloud said as we stared after him.
I shook my head. “That gene pool needs some chlorine.”
She laughed. Then took my arm, stopping me when I made to follow the witch. “Tess.”
I stopped and looked back, going stiff in surprise when Cloud bent and kissed me, a light brush of her soft lips. Then another.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For…knowing my heart.”
I took a deep breath, warmth and terror warring inside me. Cloud was depth. Layers upon layers of things I couldn’t see. And I had the feeling she was willing to let me go spelunking down into caves she’d never let anyone explore.
I was afraid of depth. Depth was dangerous. Depth could hurt. It had almost killed me last time I tried to love someone that way. There would always be a Barrett-and-Toby-shaped hole in my heart.
I didn’t need a hunter-shaped hole in my soul.
I nodded, then turned and followed the witch into the woods, toward the place where my cabin had once stood.
I came to a halt a short time later. We hadn’t been traveling in the general direction of my cabin. We’d been headed right to it.
There was nothing there.
My yard was empty, dotted with brown grass that had been scorched or frosted. My sad little gardening shed stood alone in one corner of the yard. The witch fire, which burned so hot it destroyed everything had done its job.
There were no charred remains to remind me of my cabin. Even my poor, ancient truck was gone, the metal burned to ash.
“Fuck,” I muttered, feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.
It looked like the city had come by and capped electrical and water lines. I had no clue what they made of all of this. After all, it wasn’t like I had reported the fire. I suspected someone had friends in high places. Either Cloud or Caldwell.
There were about a half-dozen cars parked in my driveway. I followed the witch as he led the way across my yard, through another wooded stretch, and to the cabin next door. There were a half-dozen more cars there. And a bunch of hippies lounging on the porch of the cabin, smoking something that smelled like basil.
“Witch convention,” I whispered to Cloud.
Her brown eyes darted around the place, and her hand fluttered over the axe at her waist. “Covens. Thank God the hunters never wanted to… commune… together.”
We followed Tommy’s dad up the front steps and past the younger witches, who fell silent and watched us with fascination.
Then we were inside, and there were even more of them, all faintly radiating power. I swallowed, suddenly hungry. Too much magic all packed into warm, gooey human wrappings.
Cloud nudged me, and I realized I was starting to let out a faint growl. My throat burned, but I ignored it.
“Hey there, witchie-poos,” I said, to the staring faces. I gave a little wave.
Tommy’s dad rolled his eyes. “Come in and sit down,” he said, waving us over to the dining room, where a bunch of witches sat around an over-sized wooden dining table. “Tess Vere, may I introduce you to the Whitehall coven.”
I glanced around the table. The witches seated there were older. Some even sported white hair and wrinkles. I had no idea if witches aged more slowly than humans, but these were the elders of the group, whether they were eighty or eight-hundred. I made a colossal effort and pulled my shit together.
“Hello,” I said, keeping my claws in. “Thank you for coming out here to chat.” At Caldwell’s urging, I sat down, Cloud coming to stand behind me like a guard.
The witches from outside came in on a drift of wintry air. I paused when Viola rushed over, snowflakes caught in her dark hair and dusting her wool coat. “Tess!” She hugged me awkwardly as she stood at my side. “They said they’d listen. No one around here ever listens.”
One of the older ladies snorted. She bore a strong resemblance to Viola’s mother. Probably a grandmother or a great aunt. “We are listening now.”
I swallowed. What the hell was I supposed to say? “Right, well.” I slipped out of my coat and draped it over my arm. “I don’t know how much Caldwell the twentieth here has told you, but the hunters insist that all of the…non-human… creatures out there are evil.” I shook my head. “They aren’t.”
Viola squeezed my shoulder. “They are beings who are closely tied to nature,” she said firmly. “The way the witches once were.”
I nodded. “I don’t know my witch lore. But I think we all were more closely tied to nature once upon a time. Maybe that’s part of what has gone wrong?”
Cloud spoke then, her husky alto giving me chills. It was the voice of
someone who had seen history being written. “The tribes of my people could see them… we lived in harmony with the spirits once, long before my time. There was… respect, perhaps? Though not always peace.”
“Aren’t you a hunter?” One of the younger guys asked. He looked like he might be in high school.
I glared at him. “She was a hunter. Not anymore.”
Cloud set her axe on the table and a few of the younger coven members squirmed and shifted about. They were magic users, not hardened warriors. I grinned.
“I think,” I offered, my mind spinning with a sudden realization, “we all need to work together.” I drummed my fingers on the table, wanting to move, to go now. “As if it isn’t bad enough that the hunters are wrong about their mission in life, we have bigger issues. They are being more aggressive than usual. They are hunting creatures that are more powerful than the little forest spirits, things like me, who were once human and are now… more.”
One of the middle-aged women eyed me. “And?”
I sneered at her. “We would like to live.” Then I shrugged. “Also, there is a reason they are hunting us, and it isn’t just for theology and sport.” Cloud tsked at that, but I ignored her. “There is another group out there who are also hunting the human-monster hybrids. And they aren’t hunting to kill.”
Now I had their attention.
“What are you saying, child,” an old man prompted, the wrinkles around his mouth deepening as he frowned.
I pushed my hair back out of my face, ignoring how that got a bunch of people staring at my rapidly re-growing horn stubs. “They are taking creatures. Think about it,” I said, acid in my voice. “Someone who has been attacked by a monster and survived, but suddenly they are stronger, faster, and way more lethal than any human could dream of being… what uses could they serve? What kind of perfect weapon could you create?”
Someone hissed at that.
“They are capturing the creatures,” Cloud said softly. “And we think they have taken Tommy—probably for experimentation and study.”
Even though Cloud and I had talked about this—at length—I still had trouble saying it out loud. I wanted to believe we were wrong about what the organization was doing… but in my black heart, I knew we had it right.
I took a deep breath. “And it gets worse—more personal for you all. They are forcing one of the most powerful witches you know to work for them because they have his little girl.”
The room went utterly silent.
“Cal,” one of the younger ones whispered.
“What could they do if they combined magical creatures with humans and witches? And…what would they do with that information? Sell it to the highest bidder? Use it to try to change humanity?” I thumped my hands on the table. “And aside from all that save the world bullshit—they have one of your children, and my ghoul. And I want them back.”
Caldwell the nine hundred and fifty-seventh looked around the room, his features stern. “Does anyone here object to working with the wendigo to rectify this situation and avenge the death of my daughter?”
Ooh. Avenge. I liked that. I growled.
No one said anything to object. I saw lots of glittering promise in the eyes of the witches around me. Apparently, you didn’t mess with a coven’s family. I felt like I was surrounded by hippie mobsters.
“We will need an army,” Cloud said, drawing all eyes to her. “It is one thing to stop the hunters. That would help. However, the organization has witches working for it still. And we cannot fight two battles at the same time.”
I turned to her to study her face. She was vibrating with purpose. “You’re going to try to get the hunters to see reason, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “I was misled,” she said firmly. “I was given lies and half-truths, sometimes purposefully so. Sometimes due to ignorance. How many others simply don’t know what they are doing? We need to at least try to bring some of them over to our side.”
I grinned at her. “That is going to be a whole lot of pissed off hunters.”
She nodded.
“Good. Serves them right.” Fucking hunters.
I followed Cloud outside into the snowy dark. I let out a sigh as fresh, cold air filled my lungs and the tantalizing smell of human buffet lessened. I was starting to love this time of year, when it was full dark by five-thirty at night. I had the sudden urge to prowl though snow drifts hunting rabbits. I shook myself.
“You can’t go alone,” I told Cloud’s back as she walked with purposeful steps back the way we had come, toward where her bike and our bag of supplies were hidden at the edge of the forest.
She spun to face me. “I suppose you think I should take you with me?” she asked with a coldly assessing look. “Your horns are growing back.”
I ran a hand through my hair and stopped to massage the base of one horn. They were tender…and just a smidgen longer than the last time I’d touched them. “Off topic,” I said flatly.
Then I grinned. “But I know you like the horns, so don’t even try to pretend.”
One corner of her perfect mouth twitched. Then she shut it down. “Can’t you be serious for one minute?” More pretending.
I stepped closer. “Fine. Here’s me being serious. You are not going off to talk to the hunters by yourself when they know you are a traitor to the cause.”
She snorted. “You sound like a bad movie.”
I clenched my fists to keep from stroking her silky, angular cut hair, where dozens of puffy snowflakes glittered against the black. “Cloud. You said yourself they were watching you and being suspicious. You think they haven’t figured out you aren’t playing for their team anymore?”
She shrugged one shoulder, face closed. “I know they have.” Then she looked at me hesitantly. “One of them got away the night Rose was killed.”
I couldn’t stop the rumble that rose up in my chest. “Then double hell no you are not going anywhere near them. They’ll kill you as soon as look at you.”
She rolled her eyes, which had started to glow faintly. “You are not my keeper, wendigo. I go where I want and do what I want. I’ve been on this planet several times longer than you’ve been alive. Do not speak to me as if you know best.”
I stepped even closer. “Could you be more irritating, Cloud? You know damned well I’m right. I just don’t want you to end up dead.” I grinned. “Because then I couldn’t kill you when you piss me off.”
She looked down at me, then shook her head. “I’m not bringing you, Tess. That really would enrage them. And then you would be in danger.”
I pushed up onto my tiptoes, pressing my chest lightly to hers as I got in her face. She smelled of incense and leather and life, even if she was painted in shadows. “I’ll bring friends,” I whispered.
She reached out and slipped a hand through my hair to rest at the base of my neck, cradling my head. “You won’t listen to anything I tell you to do anyway, will you?”
I shook my head. “Not a chance in hell. We’ve been through this.”
She leaned in to press her forehead to mine. “Are you sure?”
My chest rumbled. “Maybe once in a while. But not today. Not on this.”
She sighed and drew back. “Fine. Maybe your friends can help convince the hunters that we are telling the truth.”
I grinned, realizing she thought I meant some of the creatures from the forest. She was going to have kittens. “Okay,” I said stepping back. “You figure out where the council members are and how we can get them together. I’m going to go… talk to some friends.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Only a few,” she warned. “Tess, if you show up with an army of monsters at a hunter’s meeting, I will skin you alive.”
I smiled sweetly—or as sweetly as a person can manage with fangs. “No army. Got it.” I only needed one person with me anyway.
Cloud snorted and walked away muttering about uppity wendigos and ignorant hunters.
I grinned. This was going to be fun
.
Chapter 7
The next night, I emerged from my cozy shelter and pulled up my fur-lined hood. The cleared lot where my house had once stood had been transformed into something right out of a fantasy novel.
The previous day, more witches had arrived. The little cabin they had bought next door to my property was overflowing. But apparently witches were good survivalists. That or they had a strong desire to recreate some sort of hippie-witch Woodstock in my backyard.
The entirety of the two yards was dotted with shelters. In the center of my property they had erected one larger tepee made of a fabric that looked like natural fibers but was actually some new, high-tech weather resistant fabric. The others had similar structures of various sizes. Each one was made with a vent at the top and was heated by either a real fire or some sort of magical glowing orb that gave off heat. A couple of the younger witches had battery powered electric heaters.
Snow had fallen more heavily overnight, and I emerged to a winter wonderland. The light fabric of the shelters blended in with the six inches of snow that covered the ground and piled heavy on the overhanging tree branches. In addition to the silvery-gray parka I was wearing, Cloud had gotten us boots. Mine were laced up my calves, insulated and waterproof, but light-weight. I had no clue where she got her top-secret creature hunter clothes, but they were amazing. I had always hated tromping through snow in big heavy clod-hoppers. These things were like walking on clouds.
My hair and my horns had grown again overnight, and I stuffed both under my fluffy hood, pausing to rub a cheek against the soft white fur. Cloud had been gone all day, coming back with supplies and the location of our upcoming meeting with the hunters a couple of hours before dusk. I had been too groggy with daylight fatigue to do more than help her crawl into my sleeping bag and burrow into her warmth before I fell asleep again.
I was not going to examine how nice it had felt knowing she slept at my side. My sanity was slipping, clearly.
Now Cloud was once again up and ordering people about, probably on less than three hours of sleep. She had found another pair of leather pants somewhere, and was bundled in a fitted jacket much like mine but, as usual, in black. She looked tall, lean, and commanding out there in the snow as she ordered young witches to set up camp more to her liking. She was probably right in her element.