Snow Fright

by Kaye Draper

  She nodded. "Good. Please take him, go get Flo and Tess's dad. Take them to the commune."

  The bird winged away. The human man and his duende would be safe inside the wards erected by the witches. And the duende and witch-turned-dog-monster would keep Ed safe.

  She stared at the snow falling on the vivid green pines around her as she went over details in her mind, making sure all of her people were accounted for. Bob... she needed to make sure the watchers were safe, but they would be okay. They watched. They knew everything that happened. If Bob hadn't already gone into hiding as a human, he would now. And he would make sure his brethren did as well.

  She was gathering an army. Now all she had to do was figure out where to find the enemy.

  Chapter 11

  I woke up slowly, clawing my way out of the dense darkness of sleep. My left leg throbbed dully. But my arm didn't hurt anymore. I sat up, shaking my head to clear it. Wondering why my leg hurt and why I thought my arm should hurt too.

  Then it all came back to me in a rush. The Organization. The fucking witches and sickos masquerading as doctors and scientists.

  They were studying me. Though their fucking scientific method wouldn't have passed muster in my high school biology class. And I'm pretty sure they had committed some ethics violations that would totally ruin the reputation of their research.

  I almost laughed.

  They had broken my leg to see how long it took me to heal. They'd broken it a second time to test my healing ability—apparently, I could heal a broken leg in one day, but it wouldn't be back up to strength and therefore was much easier to break the second day. Two days. It currently took me two days to fully heal a broken leg. But they broke my arm just to retest that theory to make sure.

  I knew I'd been here at least three days. But how much longer than that? I was having trouble remembering. I was hungry. My throat burned, and my stomach clenched. And I had a very hard time keeping a grip on human consciousness.

  I stood and strode to the bars of my cage. I could smell witch and human. There were Org people around here somewhere. I grabbed the bars with my good hand, hissing at the burn of magic zapping my skin. "Hey fuckers!" I shouted in a cheery voice. "I won't be much good for your damned experiments unless you come in here and give me a blood donation. Assholes."

  I tried to rip the bar out of the wall. I might have succeeded in bending it. A little. Maybe. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. I kept trying to yank it out for a long time, finally giving up with a wretched half-scream, half-growl. That was a new sound.

  Why weren't Cal and Cloud and the cavalry here yet? All I had to do was wait. They'd come back.

  Unless Cal had betrayed me, the fucking asshole. I kicked the bars this time. "Let me the fuck out of here!" Panic was quickly overcoming any rational thought. I was about to start climbing the walls.

  What if Cal had never told anyone where I was? What if he got all kinds of recognition for his awesome recruiting skills and then took his daughter and ran?

  It would make sense. Any sane person would get the hell out of dodge.

  I would hunt him down and murder him. As soon as I got the hell out of here.

  Why weren't they feeding me? Didn't they understand that I couldn't live without food? I was a goddamned creature of hunger, for fuck's sake!

  But maybe that was the point. Maybe they were past studying my physical abilities. Maybe now they were studying my feeding habits like an animal at the zoo.

  "Oooh Zookeeper!" I called. "Din-din time."

  I paced at the bars. Fuck. What would happen if they didn't feed me? I had struggled to fight against the wendigo madness back when Cloud left me. I had nearly lost my mind without access to human flesh and blood. But at least then I had access to animal meat. I hunted deer and squirrels and ate the beef liver Tommy got me from the grocery store. Now... I had been in here for days and they hadn't given me anything. Not so much as a nibble of hamburger. And I had been getting hungry before I was captured.

  My claws ached to rend and tear. My fangs throbbed. My head felt like it was going to split.

  I stopped my pacing and tried to hang on to myself. Ground myself. I went to the middle of my cell and lay down on the hard concrete, looking up at the ceiling. I pressed my hands down flat and breathed deep. Cloud would come for me. She wouldn't let me rot in here.

  If anyone could get the hunters and witches to see the light about the magical creatures and band together to storm the castle and get me out of here, it was the Cloud Princess. My Cloud Princess. Cloud. Please hurry, Cloud.

  I don't know how long I lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing, pushing the monster in me back down into it's deep, dark hole.

  Then I smelled humans and witches. Closer.

  And a familiar tang of magic. Cal!

  I was on my feet at the bars in a blink. "Cal?"

  A parade of people came down the hall, some in white lab coats, some in black military uniforms, toting guns or manning the magical wards that were attached to the stretcher they carried.

  I watched as they stopped in the hallway and opened the door to the cell across from mine. They carried the stretcher in and sat it on the floor.

  Cal's eyes were closed, his golden skin was pale, with dark, bruise-like circles beneath his eyes. His breathing was erratic and every now and then one of his limbs would twitch and then fall still again.

  Sudden adrenaline washed through my body, like a hot-cold wave. Cal? What did they do to Cal? And... if he was in here... then how would the others find us? Had he been captured taking a message to Cloud?

  But I knew better.

  He had never left.

  "What... why are you caging one of your own witches? Seems like you'd be proud of the fucker after he caught me," I said, as if I really didn't care.

  The witch that seemed to be in charge—the one who liked oversized syringes and sledge hammers—locked Cal's cell door and reset the wards, then turned back to me. He smiled his should-look-kind-but-isn't smile at me. "Traitors have no rights here," he said calmly. "He knew that, and yet he chose to protect you and the rest of the monsters. Shameful, really."

  He gestured at the rest of his helpers and guards and they began to move away.

  "Hey," I called out. "I need food. Some hamburger, or beef liver or something. Especially if you are going to keep giving me shit to heal."

  The doctor nodded. "I've already asked that a meal be brought up to you, pet. Should arrive soon."

  Somehow, I didn't like sound of his voice, or the smiling promise in his unhinged eyes.

  After the assholes left, I crouched by the bars of my wendigo pen and tried to get Cal to wake up. He kept twitching and groaning, and occasionally flares of magic seemed to swirl up off him and then snap back down to be absorbed into him.

  "Cal!" I hissed. "Hey, witchy-poo. Need you to wake the fuck up and use your colossal greatness to blast us the hell out of here."

  I clutched a hand to my cramping stomach. My vision kept going black around the edges. If I lost myself to the wendigo madness, would I ever come back?

  I thought of Cloud. "Fuck this. I am not going to go crazy in this dammed pit."

  I stood and paced some more, running my claws over the concrete walls, causing faint lines to appear. I could keep it together. I was human.

  I watched Cal twitch. He smelled delicious. He twisted onto his side and curled into a ball, his blond hair plastered to his face with sweat. Then he seemed to sleep. Really sleep. With minimal twitching. I still couldn't get him to wake the fuck up.

  I tensed, instantly going into a crouch when I sensed more people coming down the hall. Someone was sobbing. The smell of fear and human tears was mouthwatering. I clenched my jaws together. No. Damn them, no.

  They dragged a human man to my cell and threw him in with me. I tried to dash out, when the door was open, but a wall of magic slammed me back. The new man was tall and muscular. One of them, I thought. He looked at me and his brow
n eyes were blown wide.

  "Please don't do this," he shouted, pleading with the others. His hands were cuffed together in front of him and the muscles in his bare chest strained as he tried to break free. They had left his cuffs on when the tossed them in with the monster.

  Cold.

  I bit down on my tongue, swallowing my own blood to try to calm the raging beast inside me. The hunger was so intense. The pain of it blinding. He smelled like vitality and life.

  I prowled the back of the room. "Assholes!" I shouted at the Org people. "I asked for hamburger. Not funny!"

  The man swallowed hard, his eyes darting between me and the departing men. "I get it, okay?" He said to them, voice weak. "Point made. You can stop this now. I'll behave."

  They didn't even look back. They didn't need to. They had cameras just outside my cell, up on the ceiling.

  The man sank to his knees, all hope gone out of him.

  "Why are they doing this," I asked, voice hardly more than a growl. I was digging my claws into the concrete so hard I left deep furrows, dust and stone pattering at my feet.

  He looked up at me and a sad smile flitted across his face. "They want to see how you make more wendigo-human creatures like yourself."

  I crouched, breathing out slowly. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He smelled too good. And I was too hungry.

  "And I... I tried to quit. To leave. No one leaves the organization." He laughed bitterly.

  I snarled. "Fuckers."

  I banged my head back against the wall. I bit my lip hard, tearing a piece off, chewing. Then I bit into my arm.

  He watched me with eyes that were calmer and more resigned than they should be. "You can't stop yourself from feeding on me, can you?"

  I growled. "Trying," I grunted. Cloud. Cloud would come. Tears gathered in my eyes. But I chased them away with anger. "Fuckers."

  He sighed. "If you bite me, will I turn into a monster like you?"

  I snorted, standing to pace again. "Probably. If I can stop at just biting you." I ran a hand through my hair, pulled my horns. "I'm starving. They haven't fed me since I got here. The madness...."

  He shook his head. "You've been here for a week," he said. "They said you need to eat every week or so."

  My pacing was taking me closer and closer to him and I couldn't stop it. "If I've been in here a week, then I haven't had human blood in almost two weeks."

  He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. For them. For us. For... this. Even monsters don't deserve torture. It's why I wanted to leave."

  I stopped, suddenly right in front of him without knowing how I got there. Mine hunger want need. "What is your name?"

  He looked at me as if he couldn't look away, like a mouse caught by the gaze of a cobra. "Michael."

  Hunger need want. "Do you want to be a monster like me, Michael?"

  He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He wasn't a bad looking guy. Probably had a wife and a passel of kids, with my shit luck. "No," he whispered. "Especially this way. They... it's not like they are going to release me out into the wild once you bite me."

  Take devour feed need want need need need. Hungry! "I'm sorry," I said. It was all I could say.

  He nodded. "You seem like a nice... monster... lady thing. Kick their asses for me?"

  I closed my eyes. The beast was roaring, clamoring inside me. This act in itself might prevent me from ever being human again. But it was the only way to silence the beast. To give it what it wanted.

  With maybe my last coherent, human thought, I reached out and snapped the chain of his handcuffs. It seemed wrong for him to have his hands bound when he died.

  He took a shuddery breath. I surged forward, slamming into him and bearing him back onto the cold floor. He fought me. He couldn't help it, even if he knew it was futile.

  The wendigo liked that he fought. It made him that much more delicious. The human in me was screaming, weeping, cursing. But she wasn't in control any longer.

  I bit into sweet human flesh, drank hot, tangy blood, felt the essence of him give me life. I don't know if I could have stopped if I wanted to. Maybe. But I didn't want to. And Michael the misguided org guy didn't want to be a monster stuck in a sick lab. So, I didn't stop. I devoured.

  I came back to myself for a moment when it was over. I sat back on my haunches in a puddle of blood and scraps of the man's pants, threw back my head, and howled, tears pouring down my face. I let it all pour out of me in my voice, all the rage, the pain, the frustration.

  And the promise.

  From somewhere deeper in the facility I heard a sharp yipping bark, like a coyote. I hoped I had just riled the fuck out of all the monsters in here. I hoped that somewhere an org bastard was attacked and devoured.

  I lowered my head, seeing my eerie creature eyes reflected back at me in the camera's tiny lens. My eyes glowed with blue-white fire. I lifted a bloody hand and extended my middle finger.

  Then I blacked out.

  Chapter 12

  Cloud surged forward, blade flashing, downing the org bastard before he could pull the trigger on his precious gun. She almost felt sorry for the humans who worked for the organization. They might be well-trained and armed to the teeth, but none of the enemies they faced were entirely human.

  When she got Tess back, Cloud vowed she was going to find somewhere to be alone with her wendigo. Someplace where the only battles they would face were things like what inane TV show to watch, or whose turn it was to do the laundry.

  She watched with a critical eye as the dogman dispatched a few more org soldiers before letting himself get cuffed in the head by the stock of a riffle. The hunters with her faded back slightly, and the org took their chance and downed the dogman, darting him and quickly wrapping him in a jacket thing that was warded to suppress creature energy.

  Snow was heavy on the ground, dyed red in places, scuffed and churned with dirt in others. Cloud lashed out and knocked down one more org soldier before she raised her hand, giving the signal for retreat.

  She hated to leave the witch-creature with the org, but even if she wanted to, they couldn't get him back now. What was done was done. She felt a ripple of magic from somewhere behind her, Caldwell activating the spell they had placed on Ahanu.

  The org bundled the now limp form of the dogman through the forest and she watched them go. They were headed for a black van and its entourage, currently parked on the road just through this little patch of woods. Cloud put an arm under the shoulder of a wounded hunter and helped them hobble away, in the other direction, keeping an eye out in case the org decided to give chase or set up some sort of ambush.

  They didn't. The organization didn't care about the hunters and witches. All they cared about was capturing the creatures.

  Ahanu took off from the trees in a rustle of feathers, soaring up, above the forest, like an arrow pointed toward the dogman. "Great Spirit be with him," Cloud whispered. Then she handed the injured warrior off to a healer and stepped into the shadows beneath a nearby tree, into the inbetween place.

  She made good time back to the meeting point, where the rest of their army waited. "They took the package," she said, voice calm, heart anything but. If the bastards had harmed Tess....

  She took a calming breath. Of course they had harmed Tess. What was important was that she was going to get her back. Her and the annoying ghoul. And then this whole mess would be over.

  She ignored the voice that told her it couldn't be that easy.

  I had to sit there in my blood-covered cell for a long time.

  I woke up to find I was still surrounded by gore, but was less hungry than I had been. Sated, almost.

  Then I remembered Michael. I gave the cameras the finger again before standing and going to use my bucket. I hated the idea of the sick fuckers watching me take a piss. So, I climbed my cell wall and tossed a blood-soaked scrap of fabric over the thing. It didn't stick, but it did smear the lens nicely. The fabric landed in the hall outside my cell with a wet plop. I used the bucket in peac
e, but I hurried.

  Sure enough, footsteps came down the hall. They didn't like me interfering with their show.

  The main kook led the way, his white lab coat immaculate. His usual fake smile faltered when he got closer to my cell. "That certainly didn't go as planned," he said calmly. "Did we wait too long to feed you?" He shook his head.

  I prowled closer to the bars, reaching out to grab them, ignoring the searing burn of the magic as it tried to melt my hands. "Hello, Doctor," I purred. "Why don't you come on in and we can chat."

  He raised his eyebrows at me.

  "I hear you want to see me turn someone into a wendigo. Come here and I'll show you how it works."

  He turned away from me and walked over to stare into Cal's cage. "Witch!" He called. "Are you in there?"

  Cal was still out cold. I would fear he was dead, but I could smell him, and taste his magical energy. He was still alive. But his scent and his magic had changed. I couldn't put a finger on it, but they just felt different somehow.

  "What did you do to him?" I asked. Stupid, really. But hey, not like I had anything else to do but make conversation with my captors.

  "You will be so beautiful when you wake up," he said to Cal, ignoring me and squatting down in front of the cage that held the witch. "Just don't die before we can get the data from you, hmm?"

  He stood and strode away.

  I paced my cell, trying to ignore the gore that caked me and the middle of my little room. I fought down the tears that were threatening to overwhelm me. I had eaten someone. And this time it wasn't because that person was attacking me and trying to kill me. This time I had voluntarily let the wendigo take over and killed someone in cold blood. And eaten them.

  I shuddered. I turned and kicked the wall as hard as I could. I think I broke a couple of toes. But I healed really fast thanks to my recent feed. Stellar.

  I crouched by the bars of my cell again. "Cal," I hissed. "Cal, can you hear me?"

  His arm twitched and he moaned. I realized he had wet himself sometime in the last few minutes. Goddamn it.