by Susan Illene
The vampires moved back to where the wolves stood. They shouted threats on the way involving something along the lines of being drawn and quartered. As if any of them had been alive when that was still a practice. Did all younger immortals try to sound older than they were?
One of them began speaking on their phone again. They were running out of options and would have to give up soon. The predicted thunderstorm loomed in the distance and the wind had begun to pick up. It would be an hour or so before it reached us, but I hoped it would scare the sups off sooner.
A lightening strike, if direct, could kill them. Not only that, but they were a natural magnet for them whenever they were outside. Much like an antenna on top of a tall building. If they valued their lives, they wouldn’t stick around to get hit.
Twenty minutes later, two witches showed up. They drove a large SUV with headlights blazing, not bothering to hide their entry onto the gravel drive. When the werewolves had come, they had shut their lights off as soon as they turned from the main road. I could sense annoyance from the sups who were forced to cover their eyes. It almost blinded me with my normal vision.
One of the witches had a good amount of power, not as much as Noreen back in California, but enough zing coursed through her to be considered formidable. The second witch had about half that strength. They both appeared cocky as they got out of their vehicle. Their high heeled boots looked out of place and impractical, but they wore them with a certain grace and fluidity I couldn’t have managed out in the woods.
The two women arrived at the congregating point and settled into wide stances with hands on their hips and disapproval stamped on their faces. Most modern witches tended to avoid the outdoors, being forced to come here must have irritated them. They liked their creature comforts. One spoke in a boasting voice that she had never seen a human so easily best werewolves and vampires. I grinned to myself, thinking she would be eating her words soon enough.
With a cocky sway of her hips, the stronger witch moved toward the house, her long blond hair fluttering in the breeze. Even through the dark, I could see that the golden locks were the one decent feature she had. Her skin appeared far more aged and wrinkled than it should for a woman in her mid-thirties and her lips had a permanent down-turn. She also had the famous hooked nose Hollywood portrayed bad witches as having. It stood out from her face, but this time it wasn’t a cliché. She used a simple illusion spell to prevent anyone, aside from me, from seeing her true appearance. Her forays into the dark arts must have caused the loss of beauty. It had to have been a nasty spell to cause this much damage—most required a different sacrifice than personal looks.
I could tell she wanted to show her apprentice how superior witches were to the other races. She moved to the door and I sensed her attempt at an unlocking spell. Of course, it didn't work with my blood in place. She tried opening the doorknob without magic, but that failed as well since the door remained locked. Her feet stomped on the porch. After a moment, she tried to shove the door open with the weight of her body, but it didn’t budge.
"Unless you want this cabin destroyed,” she growled out. “I suggest you come out now. Otherwise, I will not hesitate to use force.”
"Give it your best shot,” I replied. The cabin could hold against any magic she tried against it. If her first spell hadn’t worked, none of the rest would either.
Her rising anger pricked against my senses, but I was too amused by it to care. She tramped over to the side of the house and attempted a spell to knock a hole in the wall. It bounced back and knocked her on her ass ten feet away. She had packed quite a punch into that one and hadn’t figured it would spring back on her. I caught her fall from the kitchen window and waved at her. She shot me a rude gesture in return.
To her credit, the embarrassing display didn’t stop her from trying again. A series of spells came hurtling through the air in rapid succession. I could feel the power of each one, but none of them did more than make me flinch a little. The blood protection held. Her magic didn’t. She’d tried everything, including water and air, only to have them fail too. It had to have taken a great deal of strength to perform so much at once. She didn’t have a lot left. I imagined it would take her days to recover after tonight—all magic had its limits.
This group of sups didn’t understand what a sensor could do to protect themselves. Of course, they couldn’t have known what they fought against before getting here, which made things easier on me. The knowledge of my race had eroded over the centuries as we stayed in hiding and none of the ones here had been around when sensors were still prominent. It gave me the advantage I needed.
A frustrated scream came out of the witch when she finally stopped trying to put a hole in the cabin. By this point they were all laughing at her. She had brought it all on herself. I had to laugh too when she started kicking up dirt as she made her way back to the group. She shot me a venomous look that would have terrified most people, especially if they saw what she hid under the spell, but it didn’t bother me. I’d seen more scorn from human enemies while serving overseas.
They started another discussion in hushed tones. By this time, the storm had reached us and loomed overhead, darkening the whole scene so I could barely make out their figures. It would start any minute. Lightning flashed nearby, but as yet, no rain fell. The sups glanced a few times toward the threatening weather, but didn’t stop talking. One of the vampires picked up a tree branch that was about the thickness of a baseball bat and broke it into a three-foot long piece. What did they plan to do now?
He carried the branch in a determined grip as he and the two witches moved toward the cabin. The women had daggers in their hands and an idea of what they might be about to do formed in my head. My feet took several steps back until I stood at the border between the living room and open kitchen area.
Faster than I could see, the vampire swung the branch at the window, shattering it. With swift movements, he swept the glass away using the same tool. He might not be able to put his hands inside the cabin, but the branch didn’t have that problem. I stood frozen, watching him closely. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why the witches had come with him. They didn’t need an invitation to go through the opening he’d made.
I raised the gun, which had been in my hand the entire time, as soon as the vamp stepped away. In his place came the older of the two witches. As she began to climb through the window, I knew I couldn’t hesitate. It was a matter of her life or mine. Sometimes, you don’t get the luxury of a choice if survival is at stake. When her foot crunched on the loose pieces of glass, all my focus went straight to her through the sites of my weapon.
The witch’s gaze froze on me. I let out a calming breath as my finger squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked back at the same time as a loud report hit my ears, making them ring. Horror flashed on her face right before the bullet hit its mark, erasing her expression. She had seen her death coming.
All of these details registered in my mind, as if it happened in slow motion. I never took my eyes off the open window and immediately reacquired my sights in case I needed to shoot again. The witch’s body had fallen back onto the porch, but the vampire continued to stand there, a shocked expression on his face.
The younger witch began to scream. I leveled the gun at her, but she turned her back on me and bent down to check on her friend. It put her out of my sight and she appeared too distraught to be a threat. She wailed loud enough to hurt my ears. The two must have been close for such a visceral reaction.
The woman I shot had to be dead, she wasn’t immortal. Nothing came to my senses to indicate she might still live, her life force had left within moments of the bullet hitting. I assumed the vampire would be trying to heal her with his blood if there was a chance of saving her, but he made no move to do so.
Instead, he gave me a look filled with so much hatred it left little doubt he’d kill me in a slow, methodical manner if given the chance. I stood my ground with the gun now pointed in his direc
tion, and gave him my own cold stare.
No emotion touched me, only the will to survive.
If the gun could have done any real damage, my finger might have been pulling the trigger again, but it’d be a waste of a bullet. Even giving him a temporary wound wasn’t worth the trouble. Besides, he couldn’t get in to harm me anyway.
I kept the weapon raised until he picked up the body and moved off the porch. The other witch followed right behind him, continuing to sniffle. She paid no attention to me, her sole focus on the woman whose body lay lifeless in the vamp’s arms. In my military career, I had shot at enemies before, but never watched them die. I wasn’t sure if any of them had since we never stuck around to find out. My limited experience came from ambushes that occurred while driving the streets of war zones—our goal had been to fight our way out and get to safety, not hang around checking for bodies. Staying in one place for too long in situations like that tended to invite more danger.
This experience had very little in common with those from my past. Part of it may have been the location—I should have been safe in my own country. Instead I’d been forced to kill. Even if the witch hadn’t had the best of intentions toward me, it still didn’t feel right.
One moment she had stood before my eyes and in the next she didn’t. A mere blink in time altering all that would go forward. Her existence came to a sudden halt the instant I pulled the trigger. The memory flashed before my eyes and the look on her face imprinted on my soul.
While the sups dealt with the ramifications of their latest plan, I let the scene play several more times in my head before shoving it into my special box. The danger hadn’t gone away yet. Lingering on what had happened wouldn’t change anything and I didn’t need to be putting myself at further risk. I couldn’t let them capture me because then there would be no one to rescue Aniya. Mrs. Singh needed her daughter and I wanted my friend back. They were not going to stop me.
As the group talked amongst each other, their collective anger rose. It seemed perfect timing, as a crack of lightening came down not far from our location. Rain followed the loud boom and flash of light. It didn’t start as a drizzle, like some storms do. This one came as an immediate downpour. Wind swirled around and blew through the open window into the cabin. My hair whipped about my face, blurring my vision for a moment before I used my free hand to hold it back.
I could still make out the group, standing among the trees. One of them pointed up at the sky. Dawn would be approaching soon, perhaps less than an hour, and the storm would be too dangerous to stay out in. They’d lost this round, but it was an empty victory for me. Taking the witch’s life had been an unexpected turn of events. The protections I’d placed around the cabin were my way of preventing bloodshed, but they hadn’t been enough.
The entire group, including the vamps who’d come on foot, got into their vehicles and drove away. Tires spun on the wet gravel as they went. My senses quieted once they reached beyond the half-mile mark. I let my shoulders sag with relief that they had finally left.
A mess of glass and debris surrounded me. The owner would wonder about the cause, but the storm’s convenient arrival could explain the damage. For now, I went out back and grabbed a loose piece of plywood that had been left behind the cabin. It would fit over the window well enough to keep it covered for the night. I took down a few cheap pictures of wildlife from the wall and managed to use the nails they hung from to fasten the board. One of my talents lay in improvising, which came in handy now.
A while later I had the place cleaned up. A whistle of wind still made its way through my make-shift window barrier, but it held the worst of the storm back. My instincts told me the sups wouldn’t return too soon. The vamps were limited to the dark hours and the werewolves were weaker during the day, unable to shift to wolf form. The witches could come, but they wouldn’t dare after what had happened tonight. There was one thing I was certain of—this was only the beginning, they weren’t gone for good.
Chapter Nine
I stood in the shower, trying to wash away the memory of the night before, when the walls and floor began to shake. A thunderous roar came over the cabin and I nearly slipped on the wet tiles. The ominous sound had me grabbing a towel to wrap around my body as I leaped out. My heart thumped heavily against my chest as I reached for the gun on the sink counter, ready to shoot anything that came near. Had the sups come back already? My senses didn’t pick up anything dangerous nearby but something had to have made that noise. It couldn’t have been my imagination.
I moved in a methodical manner through the cabin using standard military search techniques. Nothing turned up by the time I’d finished. My confusion came to an end when realization hit me. I almost threw my gun against the wall, annoyed at myself for not figuring it out sooner.
In my weary state, I’d forgotten about the Air Force base nearby and their regular flights over the area. The roar of the planes going by annoyed everyone, particularly the locals who had to deal with it the most. This wouldn’t be the first time military aircraft had disturbed me, but I still wanted to run outside and raise my fist at them. Of course, they were long gone by now while I was left standing in the kitchen dripping water onto the floor.
I forced myself to set the weapon down on the table. It freed my hands, which were still shaking, to make coffee. The hot, soothing brew would help calm my nerves and wake me up—something I needed right now after last night’s events left me with little more than fitful sleep.
The memory flashed in my mind again.
It wasn’t something any decent person could forget. The dead witch’s face floated before my eyes, her gaze now haunting. It transformed to become one covered in blood. How many others had I killed overseas and tried to forget? Now I had an image to go with all the other deaths because I knew I’d hit some of my targets when we were ambushed. Feelings of remorse rose up before I shoved them back down. Not now, definitely not now. I tossed the key on my mental lock box for extra security.
There were bigger issues to worry about. The group had been angry when they left and would no doubt be back for more. My protections had held, but the sups would find a way around them, given enough time.
Make a run for it.
The thought flashed through my mind, no doubt fueled by self-preservation. It wouldn’t work. In all likelihood, they were more determined than ever to capture me and running away wouldn’t change that. Not to mention I couldn’t leave Aniya behind on the remote chance escaping the area might save me. She deserved better. She’d always been there for me. If I could at least get her out of there, maybe we could both hide.
One new advantage would help. Last night I’d taken extra care to memorize each of the sup’s unique signatures with my senses. It would allow me to know if any of them were nearby. All I had to do was find one of them and tail that guy back to their home base. They would have to be staying at the same place as Aniya. At least, I hoped they were. It was the one way I could think of to find her.
First, I needed some more wolfsbane. Most of it had been blown or washed away by the storm last night. The wind had been worse than I expected. What remained wouldn’t be enough to keep the werewolves out if they came back. I didn’t want them near the cabin, whether I was here or not.
I grabbed a phone book the cabin owner had been thoughtful enough to leave for my use. There appeared to be several herb shops nearby, but I didn’t want to be out in public any longer than necessary. Calling first seemed like a good idea.
I considered tossing the phone book after discovering the first two stores didn’t have wolfsbane. It didn’t seem right. The herb wasn’t uncommon and most places would carry it. They did in California—Lisette’s shop sold it. Not that I’d bought it from her place. She would have asked too many uncomfortable questions.
I tried the third and last one, hoping for better results. A woman answered the phone with a polite greeting. Her voice had a melodic tone to it.
“Yes, do you have any A
conite?” I gave the more proper name so as to not alert her to my true purpose.
A distinct pause followed my question before she answered. “I’m sorry, no, we don’t sell that here.”
A small tremor had been notable in her voice. She was hiding something, but I couldn’t come out and accuse her of it. “Do you know anyone who does?”
“It isn’t…commonly used in Fairbanks. You won’t find anyone who sells it in the area. Is there an alternative herb I could help you with?”
“Um, no, thanks.” I hung up.
The conversation told me a few things. First, the other shops hadn’t hesitated to inform me they didn’t have it in stock. I knew they were telling the truth. Next, this woman seemed to be a little too aware no one carried it.
She had to know why.
Maybe the sups forced local stores to get rid of the herb and to not sell it anymore. Humans could have been compelled and supernatural owners threatened. The practice might not be all that unusual for a place with a high supernatural population. It wouldn’t surprise me.
The woman had felt “other” but my detecting abilities had their limits over a phone line. Intuition was all I had. She had to be carrying it in secret because the feel of her words made me believe she told a half-truth. If that was the case, it would be worth the risk to find out.
After ditching the towel and getting dressed, I headed over to the store. It looked nice on the outside, despite its small size. Most herb shops weren’t that large so it didn’t surprise me. My senses picked up on her nature long before I reached the door, a fairy—one with a good thrum of power emanating from her. My senses told me she had been alive for about sixty years, but she appeared to be no more than twenty-five. Amongst the fae, fairies and elves tended to live the longest, measuring their lifespans in centuries instead of decades. I’d never seen an elf and this was only my second fairy.