by Charley Case
The bow slung over Danica's shoulders was pressed between them hurt Mila's right breast, but she squeezed tighter, screwing her eyes closed and accepting that she would have a bruised tit for a day or two. She would take a bruised chest over falling off the back of the bike any day.
Two minutes later, the engine’s whine finally let up, and Danica slowed to a stop before shutting the bike down.
“We’re here,” Danica said, patting Mila's hands, which were still clamped around her torso. “Babe, you can let go. That was a fun ride, wasn't it?”
“I hate you,” Mila said, slowly opening her eyes and letting go of Danica.
Danica laughed and put the kickstand down, tilting the bike to the side and eliciting another squeak of fear form Mila, making Danica laugh all the harder.
“I really hate you.” Mila laughed, swinging her leg over the back of the bike and fighting to not fall to the ground and kiss it.
Danica parked the bike a good hundred feet from the end of the road. Several old vehicles were parked along the lane and in the grass where the road widened into a rough turnaround at the end of the gravel road.
Danica adjusted her bow. “Dude, I think I’m going to have a bow-stave-shaped mark on my back for a week.”
“It’ll match my tit,” Mila said, rubbing her now-throbbing chest.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Mila grumbled, scanning the area.
Penny had flown into the camp proper and was circling above the clearing in the woods, scouting the area as Mila and Danica made their way up the last hundred feet of the road and squeezed between an old Ford pickup and a Subaru that was more rust than metal.
Mila could see several simple wooden buildings, all of them facing the center of the clearing. Approaching from the back, it looked like they could use a coat of paint.
The smell of wood smoke suddenly hit Mila's nose as they came closer to the clearing.
Glancing at Penny while she followed Danica, Mila saw the tiny dragon hovering over the center of the settlement turning in a slow circle, her mouth open in shock.
“I don't think anyone’s home,” Danica said cautiously as she unslung her bow. “What the hell happened here?”
Mila looked out into the clearing as they passed the first building and saw what Danica meant.
The settlement had obviously been a lively place to live, with a large area in the center of the clearing where dedicated to bonfires and a small stage erected to one side for performances or musical acts. Each of the little houses was individually decorated with lively paint schemes and handmade furniture on the front porches. It looked like a place where people felt comfortable being themselves and reveled in the community they had created.
It also looked like a tornado had ripped through the settlement. Trash and broken furniture littered the common area. The bonfire had obviously gotten out of control at some point and left a large blackened area in the grass, along with the closest house, which had burned down to a blackened pile of ash. Most of the homes had their doors swinging open in the slight breeze, or torn off completely.
“Holy hell,” Mila muttered. “It looks like they were dragged from their homes. Look at the furrows in the ground. People digging in their heels as they were pulled into the woods. Look,” she pointed across the clearing where the woods thickened into a wall of foliage, “they took them that way.”
She pulled out her Ivar pistol and checked that the safety was off before spotting her dragon friend still hovering thirty feet up. “Penny! You see the drag marks?”
Penny nodded, pointing off into the forest. “Shir.”
“Can you follow them? Don't get into any trouble, but see if you can find out where they went.”
Penny nodded and shot off into the trees like a blue streak of lightning.
“We should check the houses to be sure no one is in need of healing,” Danica said.
“Once a doctor, always a doctor, huh?”
Danica turned to her with a confused look on her face. “I’m still a doctor.”
“That’s what I said,” Mila argued, scanning the houses before moving toward the closest one. Its door had been torn from the frame and was stuck in the soft ground corner-first like it had been thrown with great force.
“You said, ‘once a doctor always a doctor.’ That’s what you say when someone used to be a doctor, but they still try to help people,” Danica responded quietly, drawing an arrow from her quiver and notching it with practiced ease.
They had been friends so long that they knew the senseless conversation would make the other feel better while in a stressful situation. Conversation was their love language.
“Right, sorry,” Mila apologized with little conviction. “I guess I meant to say that you’re a doctor, so of course you would want to find survivors.”
Mila led the way up the steps onto the porch, her pistol out in front of her as she approached the eerily quiet home’s entrance.
“It’s all good. Just didn't want you to think I had quit the hospital and wouldn't be able to pay the rent,” Danica said stoically, staying on the grass and drawing back the arrow, covering the entrance as Mila approached.
Mila quickly turned and pressed her back against the exterior beside the opening like she had seen any number of TV cops do. After a few quick breaths, she leaned over and took a quick look inside to be sure there wasn't anyone waiting in the dark.
She didn't see anything, so she stepped into the one-room house, the Ivar still at the ready. It had a surprisingly spacious interior, considering the small structure. A couch and a small wood-burning stove occupied the front room, with a tiny kitchen and dinner table under a loft. The loft held a queen-sized bed and had a thin staircase leading to it, and its underside served as a bookshelf along one wall.
There was no sign of anyone, and after a few seconds of no sound but the wind, Mila determined the place was empty. That didn't mean it was peaceful inside.
The entire place had been ransacked, either in a robbery or during a struggle. Books had been pulled from the shelves, plates had been smashed on the floor, and the table was broken in half from something large landing on it.
“See anything?” Danica called from behind Mila.
“Nothing. The place was destroyed, but there’s no one here. We should check the rest of the houses,” Mila said, squinting at the arm of the couch. It had been sliced open several times with what looked like a razor-sharp knife, all the way down to the wooden frame.
They moved on to the next house, and it was the same story—the house empty and torn to shit. This one had several of the same cuts in furniture, and the rug had been sliced nearly in half.
In the third house, she finally understood what she was looking at.
“Danica, come here,” Mila said from the open door, waving for the tall elf to come inside.
When they were both standing in the front room, Mila pointed at a wingback chair that was sliced to shit. “What does that look like to you?”
Danica raised an eyebrow at the ribbons of fabric that used to be a comfortable chair. “Uh, it looks like someone went hog-wild on a chair with a knife or a sword or something.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too,” Mila said, stepping closer to the chair and leaning over, making sure Danica could see what she was doing. “Every time something is cut, it’s been completely shredded. At first I thought it was just some psycho chopping away, but I think whoever did this was covering up what we’re looking at.”
She held out her hand like she had claws, her fingers spread as far as they would go and began to trace the lines cut into the fabric. It was hard to see at first because there were so many cuts, but once she showed Danica the pattern, Mila heard a gasp from her friend.
“Oh, my God. Those are claw marks?”
Mila nodded. “I think so, but I’ve never seen claws this sharp. Usually there would be more of a tearing patten, but these cuts are super-precise. It’s almost like th
ey were wearing gloves with razors in the fingertips.”
“Or there’s a magical element to their claws,” Danica said, fingering one of the cuts. “Let’s check the rest before Penny gets back. I don't want to accidentally leave anyone behind.”
Mila nodded and stepped out onto the porch. Movement from her right side made her hackles rise, and on pure instinct, she dropped to a knee as a branch slammed into the doorframe inches over her head.
Mila's eyes refused to understand what she was seeing.
A woman who had at one time been an elf if her pointed ears and almond eyes were any indication stood on the porch brandishing a three-inch-thick tree branch as a club. The woman’s face was twisted in a snarl reminiscent of a dog with rabies. Foam spurted from between clenched teeth, and her red eyes ran with bloody tears. The most disturbing part about her was that large portions of her dirty and naked body were deformed and far too large for her frame, as if she had been half turned into an eight-foot-tall bodybuilder. If that weren’t bad enough, all the disfigured portions were covered in a thick, wiry black and gray fur.
She snarled, lifting the branch over her head to strike again, but Mila, seeing her opening, launched her shoulder into the exposed stomach of the deformed woman. Her momentum drove them across the small porch and over the railing in a tumbling ball.
The woman screamed in rage and fury, bringing the branch down on Mila's back as they fell.
With a whispered word of power, Mila's mythril armor rose from her body in a fine chain mesh that covered her from neck to waist under her clothes, and the branch slammed into her and exploded into splinters.
The chainmail absorbed most of the impact, but Mila's back still protested with shooting pain. Knowing that the mythril could stop a bullet with minimal pain, Mila was shocked at how strong the woman had to be to hit her with a tree branch that hard.
They slammed to the ground, Mila driving her knees into the woman’s stomach while pushing herself up into a kneeling position and aiming the pistol at her face.
“Freeze! I don't want to—” Mila was forced to put her arm up to block the incoming fists as the once-elf went berserk.
Mila felt her powers activate just the way she had been practicing, and a half-circle of power formed instantly as a shield in front of her. She mentally attached the shield to her forearm, then let go of the power, anchoring the invisible barrier to herself so she didn't have to focus on it anymore.
The incoming fists slammed into the invisible barrier, causing the shield’s surface to ripple with golden light at the impact sites. Mila was nearly thrown back from the force of the blows, but she quickly planted a leg behind her on solid ground while keeping a knee on her attacker’s chest and leaned into the ferocious attacks.
Mila could see the vacant look in her attacker’s eyes. Whoever this woman used to be, she wasn't in there anymore. This was just a beast that needed to kill.
Danica landed beside the two of them, a nocked arrow pointed at the thing’s head. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Is there anything you can do for her?” Mila shouted, beating back the incoming fists with her shield.
“You mean like heal her?” Danica shouted in disbelief. “No way. Whoever she was, she died when something did this to her. There’s not even an aura in there anymore.”
Mila bit her lip, not liking what she knew she needed to do. She pressed the barrel of the Ivar to the heaving chest under her knee, making sure the heart was in the blast zone.
“I’m sorry about this,” she whispered before pulling the trigger.
The sides of the pistol glowed with golden light for the briefest of moments before raw celestial magic was expelled from the barrel. There was a deep thwump, and the ground rumbled as a bolt of magic slammed into it after passing through the woman’s chest.
With a shuddering scream, the elf’s body shook and spasmed before seizing up. Mila was horrified to see the woman’s nose and mouth begin to extend from her face in the shape of a muzzle and sprout thin black fur.
Mila was about to put another shot into her when the light faded from her eyes and she slumped to the ground, dead.
Mila slowly stood up and stared down at the thing. “What the fuck was that?”
“Shir shee chi!” Penny said, scaring the crap out of Mila as the dragon landed on her shoulder.
“Fucking hell!” Mila shouted, jumping backward and making Penny have to dig in her talons or fall off her shoulder. “Why the fuck would you scare me like that?” She pressed a fist to her chest and made a pained face. “Wait, did you just say she was a werewolf?”
Chapter Eight
“I’m not saying it wasn't a werewolf,” Danica whispered as they crouch-walked through the thick underbrush. She was leading the way, her wood elf blood instinctively letting her know where to put her feet to keep quiet. Mila followed close behind, placing her feet in the same spots as Danica but managing to make twice as much noise as the elf.
“But in your medical opinion?” Mila said with a roll of her hand, prompting Danica to continue.
“Well, werewolves are intelligent,” she said, moving a branch out of the way with the back of her hand. “That thing was nothing more than an animal. Plus, werewolves have a huge aura, and she didn't have anything. Almost like it had been stripped from her.”
“Shir, chi chi,” Penny argued from Mila's shoulder.
“Good point.” Mila nodded. “If something had gone wrong when she was bitten or whatever, maybe she got all messed up. Besides, if she wasn't a werewolf, then what was she?”
Danica shrugged. “I don't know. I’m just saying, I don't think that was a werewolf. I think she was turning into something much more basic, like an animal. We’re here,” she said, cutting off further argument.
Mila moved up beside Danica at the edge of the forest, hunkering down behind a thatch of saplings to hide from view.
After checking the rest of the houses at the settlement and finding nothing more, they decided to check out the old logging camp Harvey had told them about. Mila was pretty sure the missing elves and Heather’s disappearance were connected since the odds against it were astronomical. Mila was having trouble figuring out how not-werewolves, a missing group of elves, and a potentially dead Valkyrie were connected, though. The only thing she knew for sure was that the woman who now owned the logging camp they were spying on was the last person to talk to Heather. If she could just figure out one of the threads, she knew the mystery sweater would unravel.
Mila had tried to call Preston to let him know that the settlement was destroyed, but she couldn't get any service on her phone, and the magical one Victoria had given her, while at full signal strength, only worked to contact the sisterhood. She figured if they were already out near the logging camp, they might as well get all the info they could before checking in with Preston.
So far, the only leads they had about the elves were that there might be a werewolf thing happening and several sets of drag marks led into the woods.
Unfortunately, Penny had only been able to follow the trail about a mile into the wood before the last set of drag marks disappeared, but they were heading in the general direction of the logging camp they were now staking out.
Ten minutes went by with nothing happening before Mila finally sat on the ground, giving up on the idea that she would need to move quickly anytime soon.
“Well, her car is parked over there, so at least we know she’s here,” Mila said, jutting her chin at the industrial sawmill leftover from the 40s that dominated the clearing. There were a few smaller buildings that looked like they had served a purpose at some time in the past, but they had mostly fallen into disrepair to the point of uselessness. A new Jeep Wrangler was parked in the grass beside the front entrance to the sawmill.
“Well, I guess it’s better than fighting fucked up science experiments,” Danica said, folding her legs under her and sitting in a pile of leaves without making a sound. “I’ll take a little rest before we go
running headfirst into who knows what next.”
“I do not go running headfirst into things,” Mila said, gently cuffing Danica's shoulder with the back of her hand.
“You’re right. That’s mostly your big dwarf man,” Danica said, eliciting a hiccupping laugh from Penny that surprised the dragon as much as the two women.
“Chi chi?” Penny asked.
“Oh, he’s probably chatting up pretty girls, asking if they’ve seen any gold bars lying around.” Mila rolled her eyes.
“Jealous much?” Danica laughed.
“Yes,” Mila snapped in mock anger. “Mostly of the fact that he’s down in Mexico City having the time of his life while we’re sitting here in the dirt waiting for a potential murderer to get bored and leave her sawmill.”
Finn stood on the sidewalk of Avenida Hidalgo, adjusting the straps of the heavy-duty backpack he had just bought as he took in Alameda Central park. The park was the oldest in the city and happened to be less than a hundred feet from where a bar of Montezuma’s gold had been found in the 80s.
Several pavilions were scattered throughout the well-manicured grounds, and people milled about on walks or played games with their children in the cool of late morning before the heat of the day really set in. In the center of the park was a large fountain that splashed water around a female statue in regal clothing and had a few children running through the cool waters.
Finn smiled as he took it all in. He liked to see people happy. Plus, things were about to get pretty gross for him.
Deciding he had wasted enough time, Finn clapped his hands together and slowly turned in a circle, looking for the closest manhole cover. Unfortunately, the closest was in the middle of Avenida Hidalgo, a fairly busy street. He considered finding an entrance to the sewers that was on a less busy street, but after considering his last couple of hours wandering through the huge city, he decided there wasn't anything like a not busy street in central Mexico City.