by Kaye Draper
Cal crossed his arms and scowled at me. "Are you feeling okay, Tess? Did you hit your head?" He leered. "Hunger making your brain short circuit."
I growled.
Then it hit me.
He really had no idea what I was talking about.
Fucking hunters and their fucking watchers.
Chapter 9
I tensed, and Cal hissed. Shit. I only had myself to blame for this. Even if I did trust him to a certain extent, we were probably tempting fate every time he spoke to me or let me slip though his fingers.
I could sense witches and smell humans.
I felt his magic rise around us. But there were only so many times you could fake an attack and accidental escape. I met his blue eyes. Was I really about to be stupid enough to trust him again?
Viola wasn't here. The dogman wasn't here. It was just me and Cal and about thirty-odd Org shitheads surrounding us.
"You have to be the one to bring me in," I said softly.
A quick, sloppy plan was forming in my head. He could take me in and get in the Org's good graces. Maybe check on his daughter or secure her release. And he could confirm where Tommy was—probably where they would be taking me—and then he could bring the witches and hunters back to get us all out.
What better way to find out where the organization's headquarters were than to have them take us right to it.
He went still for a moment. Then he nodded his head, ever so slightly. "Sorry about this," he said under his breath.
Then he pulled up his magic, letting it dance in his hands. I grinned and took a swipe at him, laughing when he barely managed to dodge and my claws caught the fabric of his shirt, slicing it open along his ribs.
The others from the organization ringed us, stepping out from behind trees and underbrush. I could sense human and witch. The Whitehall coven had pulled their witches out of the org, but there were other covens. And some of them were really stubborn about the tradition of hunting monsters.
I dodged a ball of magical fire, growling at Cal. If he set me on fire I sure as hell hoped he had a counter spell for the unstoppable witch fire. Asshole.
Then someone shot me.
Son of a bitch! I had not anticipated that. Of course they fought with guns as well as magic and hunter weapons like enchanted blades. They had much more modern ties to our degenerate human world. I held a hand to my torso. I think the bullet had just grazed me, tearing a furrow along my side, but what did I know about guns?
The monster in me had been content to play with Cal and his magic. Content to sit back and see if one of us really did kill the other and if maybe a feast would be coming at the end. But now I was wounded. And I was suddenly more aware of the fuckers around me, none of them aware that Cal was just pretending.
Fuck.
The wendigo madness rose up in me and I let it. I kept hold of only a tiny sliver of my humanity as I dodged blows and took bullets. I tried not to actually kill anyone, though I don't know if I was entirely successful in that endeavor. I clawed and bit and kicked my way through them, drawing on strength and speed that they just didn't have.
Magic hit me, burned over my skin, and then dissipated. I shook it off like the effects of a mild Taser blast, my synapses twitching, but functional. Then I saw Cal approaching.
He walked slowly through the ranks of the others, who all gave him wide berth. Apparently, even his fellow assholes were afraid of his magic. He pulsed with it, and I wondered if he had to fight it every time he used it, the same way I fought the wendigo madness.
I growled at him. "Fucking witch."
His face was stark and impassive. "Monster."
Then I felt it. He didn't throw the magic at me the way the others hand. It wasn't like a projectile launched from one of their guns. Instead, it rose up from the earth beneath me, coalesced in the very air surrounding me. And squeezed.
The fingers of power became a suffocating blanket that burned every inch of me, inside and out, searing my skin, my nasal passages, my eyes. I screamed and dropped like a rock.
Somewhere in the haze, I swallowed the blood filling my mouth, licked my lips, which I had sliced through with my own fangs as I seized. I kept a little sliver of my humanity. Used it to calm me.
Cal's magic was ruthless. But it was brief. He almost immediately pulled it back. He had given the others a chance to spar with me, he had make it look like he was killing me with his magic. Now he backed it off. It still burned. But like a warning. Play along, it said. Be subdued.
I wanted to growl and rage and fight it. Rip free, summon Death to my side and devour every single one of the soft fleshbags around me. But I didn’t. I wanted Tommy back. I wanted Cal's little girl back. I wanted Cloud there when I finally did devour them all—because I was going to need her to pull me back from the brink of madness and remind me of my humanity.
No losing it until Cloud was there.
Somehow that thought worked, and I used it as a mental mantra. I felt someone approach, though I kept my eyes closed. I whimpered when someone sat me up and wrapped me in what felt like a magically reinforced straight jacket. I tested it, keeping my struggles to a minimum to avoid another magical whammy. But I just confirmed what I already knew—I wasn't going anywhere, even if I wanted to.
I could hear Cal's calm, authoritative voice nearby, giving orders, directing people. I almost laughed out loud when I realized how much he sounded like Cloud in chief mode. I was lifted up by a couple of org people and frog-marched through the forest. I tripped and stumbled and was generally as a big a pain in the ass as I could be. I was starting to doubt my decision.
Maybe letting myself be captured was a big mistake. Maybe this was what Cal had been hoping for all along. That he could just take me in with my consent like a tidy little present for the organization. Panic started to claw its way out of my chest. Shit, what had I done?
"Keep moving, wendigo," Cal's voice was soft, but firm as he pushed me onward. Did he sound emotionless because he didn't want to be overheard being friendly with the monster? Or was this the real Cal? Goddamn it!
I growled low in my throat, a steady sound that I couldn't quite stop. My body thrummed with the need to fight back. But I had the sudden realization that it was far too late for that now. Part of me had thought that if I let them take me in, they wouldn't really be able to keep me. I was wicked strong these days and at least half of these people were human. The other half had magic, but also had human reflexes and healing abilities. Not like my tainted hunters. It would be easy to get away later if I changed my mind, right?
I glanced over my shoulder at Cal. His lips compressed to a straight line, but his eyes flashed at me for a moment—full of sadness and regret.
Oh motherfucker.
I turned to my right and leapt over a log, unsteady on my feet without the natural balance of my arms, since they were still strapped to my sides. I careened into a tree, but kept moving, trying to put distance between us.
An organization goon stepped out from behind a tree and punched me in the face. I spun and ran the other way.
Cal caught me as I ran right into his chest. He clutched my shoulders, not flinching when I snapped my head around and bit deep into his forearm. His magic rose up from the earth again, bathing me in heat and pain. But before I could really feel it, he leaned close to me and whispered. "Sleep, Tess."
And I did.
I woke up in a cage.
A fucking cage.
Okay, it was more like a large prison cell. Concrete floor, cinder block walls on three sides. Thick metal bars on one side. I pushed myself to my feet and prowled the perimeter of the place, smelling blood and fear and death.
They had removed the straight jacket thing from me and I stretched out my arms, happy to find no kinks. I was hungry, but not uncontrollably. My fingers went to the wound in my side and I was pleased to feel that it had healed.
I tilted my head, putting a hand to my chest as I felt a faint echo, like the lingering reverbe
rations of a bass drum.
Tommy.
It was so faint, but it was unmistakably him. My link to him was still there. I almost cried in relief. It had been so long since I had felt him this strongly. Part of me had just assumed he was really, truly dead this time.
I paced to the back of my cell, where something resembling a dog bed had been placed on the floor. There was no cot. No toilet. Though there was a bucket. I didn't think too much about that.
I sat on my dog bed with my back against the cool wall and settled in to wait. I pushed down the creature in me that wanted to freak out and wreak havoc. All I had to do was wait. Cal would bring Cloud and our army here and demand I was freed. Or blast me out.
I could do prison in an empty cell and peeing in a bucket. It wouldn't kill me. Besides, I'd probably be in here a few hours, tops.
Right.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, trying to think about how I could use this experience to write a crappy horror novel.
A long while later, I heard footsteps and smelled human. And witch. I opened my eyes as two men came into view. They wore lab coats. The human held a gun that didn't look right to me. And he smelled like poison. The witch pushed a cart on caster wheels, loaded down with things that looked like some comic book illustrator's overdone version of real medical instruments. Who needed a needle and syringe that long for anything? And was that... a saw? Pliers....
I stood, my back still to the wall, hands splayed flat against the cold concrete.
"Hello pet," the witch in the lab coat said as he picked up the elephant-sized syringe. "You're a pretty little one, now aren't you?" And the pet comment was apt. He spoke to me like a cute little dog. He touched the metal bars of my prison, and the magic reinforcing them shut off. But a wall of magic snapped up behind the men at the same time. I was still trapped.
The witch nodded to the human. He raised his gun. I dodged the first shot, but the second one got me in the stomach. I frowned down at the fucking dart sticking out of my gut. "Asshole," I hissed at him, plucking it out and flinging it back at him.
It bounced off his chest. Repelled by some sort of physical or magical armor.
I lunged for the human.
And tripped over my own feet and fell face first on the concrete, breaking my nose in the process.
I sat up and tried to put a hand over my bleeding face, but I couldn't feel my hands. "What the fuck are you doing?" I slurred at the witch, who was approaching with that damned needle.
Wait it out. All I had to do was wait it out.
I tried to crab walk away from him, but my muscles wouldn't work right. I smelled something familiar... the poison in my veins... it smelled like Cloud had the day I found her in my woods, burning up with scorpion-creature venom.
I tried to get up.
I fell backward and lay there as the witch doctor approached.
Ha ha...witchdoctor. I realized I was humming that cheesy old song.
Shit.
"Don't worry, pet," the witch said with a soothing smile that did anything but soothe. "I'm just getting some samples. No one will hurt you right now."
I hissed at him, my mouth feeling as though it was full of cotton.
No one would hurt me right now?
I didn't feel much at present. But that damned elephant needle? That, I felt.
But that was the least of my worries. The human kept his gun trained on me as the witch put on shoulder-length rubber gloves.
Then, thankfully, I blacked out.
Chapter 10
Cloud paced the clearing in agitation. Where had Tess gone? Why would she go off alone?
Ahanu fluttered down to land on her shoulder, croaking and flapping and nearly screaming with frustration. He turned smoky, and then the Indian boy—so like her little brothers, but clearly from another clan—stood before her. The snow and dirt in the immediate vicinity swirled up in a wind that wasn't there.
"Tess has been captured," he said, his expression far too mature for a child.
Cloud went rigid in surprise. "What?" She shook her head. "Who—the witch. The goddamned witch!"
Ahanu nodded. "She let him take her. He had to. The organization saw them together."
And just what the hell had Tess been doing with the witch?
Cloud turned sharply and headed to the wigwam she shared with Tess. She found her extra tomahawk, a bag of herbs used for spells, throwing knives for her belt. She pulled on a pair of leather gloves and came out of the shelter, her mind whirling.
Tess had allowed herself to be captured. Gods damn it. Tess was a human at heart. A woman who had grown up in a society that was for the most part ignorant of the things Cloud had seen. She couldn't know how much danger she was putting herself in.
But then, maybe she did know. Cloud took a deep breath, striving for calm. Maybe Tess did know, and she felt she had to do this. The woman pretended she cared about nothing. She put on a mask of sarcasm and pain, but Cloud knew what was underneath.
She was soft. She was kind. And she was driven by a need to save everyone, much as she might like to pretend she didn't care.
Damn it.
Cloud ran a hand through her hair then strode toward the cabin the witches had made into their commune. She took the front steps two at a time and threw the door open without knocking.
Witches were everywhere. Some lounged before the fireplace. Some sat at the table sipping from steaming mugs that smelled of spicy herbs. A few were reading or playing on their phones in the living room.
"Caldwell," Cloud demanded.
Everyone froze. Some looked at her with fear, some with open distrust or revulsion. Hunters and witches didn't respect one another on the best of days—each too wary or jealous of the other's strengths. Their only bond had been their hatred of the creatures that preyed on humans.
The young witch, Viola, stood from her place near the fire and came to Cloud.
"Dad went into town to get groceries and supplies. What's wrong, Cloud?"
Cloud took a deep breath and fought the urge to scream. "The organization has Tess. Your brother took her in. We need to go get her."
She stared into the girl's pretty brown eyes. Eyes that held more pain and maturity than they should. She wasn't a child anymore. Not after all that had happened the last few weeks. "I trust you to get a message to your father. Tell him I'm going to the hunters. We weren't supposed to meet up for a couple of days still, but I'm bringing them here now. You'll need to let down the wards and let us in. But make sure that we are the only ones you let in. The last thing we need is to have the org come at us before we have a chance to unite the two pieces of our army."
Viola nodded, then her mouth quirked. "Army?"
Cloud nodded. "I think that is what it will take to end this—war."
Cloud was already miles away. They still didn't know exactly where the nearest org compound was. Ahanu was adamant that he could take her partway there, but that the facility itself was heavily warded to make it hard to find.
The girl startled Cloud by wrapping thin arms around her and squeezing. "We will get her back," she whispered. "You don't have to rescue her alone, okay?"
Cloud disentangled herself. "Get your father and your coven ready for the hunters' arrival."
She spun and left the room before the girl could respond. Reaching for the shadows, she stepped between places and used the darkness to leapfrog to the hunting retreat where the hunters were staying.
She stepped out of the shadows and broke through the ward, setting off the magical alarms that the elders would feel. She nearly laughed at how weak the magic was, compared to the witch magic she was used to these past few days.
But then, who needed witch-strength magic when they were all tainted with dark power. She suspected that she was not the only one who was made using some part of the creatures they were created to fight.
She took a deep breath, ignoring the part of her that was insisting she hurry hurry hurry a
nd find Tess. Before it was too late. Before she lost one more person she would grieve forever.
If she continued to panic, she would not do anyone any good, least of all Tess. A warrior needed focus. Purpose. She closed her eyes and thought of her grandmother's face as she died. A warrior needed to understand every aspect of the battle she was entering into or she would make mistakes.
She opened her eyes, feeling calm and cold.
The elders approached. "We need to go now," she said calmly.
The leader eyed her suspiciously. "We are not supposed to leave for another two days, at the earliest."
Cloud shook her head. "No. We are going now."
She looked around the lodge, speaking to the hunters who were present. "Go find the others. Pack up the things you need. We are leaving this place and joining the witches in no more than thirty minutes."
She watched as they all hurried to obey, vacating whatever they had been doing to gather up weapons and pass the word to the others.
"Who do you think you are to give orders to my hunters!" The elder was irate.
Cloud turned back to the elders, looked at each one in turn, then turned her full glare on the old woman who had been her god, and her tormentor, for years. "I am Hanging Cloud, daughter of Chief Nenaa'angebi, leader of my people, defender of light, hidden in shadow." She stepped closer. "You are a pale imitation of the things I have always been. A weakling who enjoys being in control. And no one here is listening to you any longer without good reason."
She turned away, ignoring the protests and questions. "The org has my wendigo. We are going to get her back and stop them before they find a way to use her for their own purposes. Pack up now."
She strode out of the building and into the night. "Ahanu!"
The bird was there, as she knew he would be. "Where is the dogman? They haven't caught him too, have they?"
The bird shook its head.