Protecting the Pack

by L. S. Slayford

  We raced on for another mile, and my heart quickened as the trees thinned and the area became familiar. The cave itself was an underground hollow which had been dug out centuries ago but resembled an over-sized badger’s hollow. About thirty feet long and thirteen feet wide, it was cool enough to keep my herbs and other ingredients dry and fresh for extended periods. Whilst witches would draw on their own inherent magic deep within them, I loved making potions. After being expelled from the Academy, Dad had instructed me in the art of potion creating and I definitely had the knack for them.

  And because I liked to spend hours in the cave, I also had a bed, a little food, and other supplies in there. Henry shouldn’t be able to find us.

  OK, scratch that thought. Henry might not have found us, but something certainly did.

  Or rather, three somethings.

  Daniel and I skidded to a halt as we left the safety of the trees. My heart raced to my throat and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Three demons stood outside my cave, and it was obvious they’d been trying to enter. Tree trunks the size of a cottage lay discarded at the perimeter, just where the wards protected it from all nasties.

  They turned their heads in our direction and ice slithered down my back. I’d never met a demon before, and I wished I hadn’t met these. They were the size of goblins, coming up to my knees, and the stench emanating from them was just as foul. Their skin was black, as if they had cloaked their bodies with shadows, and their eyes burned red. Teeth sharper than werewolves glimmered white and razor-sharp claws promised pain if one ventured too close.

  These were lower-class demons, the weak kind, but they didn’t look feeble in any kind of way. They looked as if they’d be quite happy feasting on my flesh and dancing on my corpse. I’d never fought demons. That was an advanced lesson the Academy taught in the last year of studying.

  Looks like I was getting the hands-on experience instead.

  They rushed at us in a blur of speed, a high-pitched squeal piercing through the chaotic thoughts of oh shit, oh shit resounding in my head. Two immediately diverted towards Daniel, who dived to the right, leaving me with the other one to deal with.

  There wasn’t enough time to cast a spell. I sped to my left and called my magic. It rose up from my abdomen and raced down my arms to my hands. The demon charged at me, and I let loose a bolt of magic. Sparks of red light burst from the impact, but it didn’t do a damn thing to the creature.

  Panic rose in my throat. I needed a different type. Think, Alana, think.

  I called up an ice spell, one I’d learned years ago and practiced on a bully who liked to torment my sister. Ice poured out of my hand and enveloped the demon, his black skin glistening like shadowy silk beneath. Satisfaction flowed through me for a second but dissipated like smoke on the wind when the ice shattered in a million directions, and the demon continued to rush at me.

  It lunged at me, its claws stretching out, aiming for my face. I reached up and grabbed its tiny wrists in my hands, those razor-sharp claws only an inch from my eyes. We crashed to the floor, pain rippling through me as the back of my head made contact with a rock. A cry tore from my throat, and the edges of my vision blurred.

  Teeth snapped close to my face and terror threatened to freeze me. Pushing it down, I wrestled the demon away from me, but continued to hold those wrists in my hands. If I let go, there was no way I was walking away from this.

  Tearing itself from my grasp, it bounded a few meters away before launching itself at me again. Blasted thing was stronger than it looked. I rolled to the side, narrowly missing a claw, but my t-shirt wasn’t quite as lucky. The edges of the ripped t-shirt fluttered in the breeze, and my skin chilled as the demon jumped in my direction.

  I needed salt. Salt was one of the few things that warded against demons and other evils in this world. I had salt, but it was in the blasted cave. Out of my reach.

  We tumbled to the ground, and pain bloomed through my side. I ended up on top and grabbed its wrists again. I didn’t have salt on me, and I couldn’t free my hands long enough to cast spells on it. What could I do.

  Using its gangly legs, the demon kicked me off and I was vaguely aware of flying when my back hit the front of a tree. All the oxygen from my lungs rushed out of my body, leaving nothing but a deluge of pain.

  But I didn’t have time to focus on the pain.

  A blur of dark shadows raced in my direction and my heart froze in my chest. My fingers dug into the earth, hoping it would recharge me, but I knew there wasn’t enough time. My fingers clasped something hard and rough. Just as the demon was on me, I rose my hand and shoved it up.

  A shrill cry pierced the air, penetrating the bubble of fear and terror which surrounded me. Something black and stinking of oil spilled from the creature’s face and dripped onto mine. Clawed hands cupped its eye and it began backing away from me. Convulsions overtook its body and within seconds, it exploded in a cloud of black ash.

  A thud rang out. Stained with a dark oil-like substance, the rock lay on the ground. I grabbed it and glanced in Daniel’s direction who was still fighting his two demons. “Go for the eyes,” I cried.

  Daniel kicked one of the demons, sending it hurtling through the air and landing at my feet. Instinctively, I brought the rock down on its face, aiming for its eyes. Its body arched up and another piercing cry of pain rang through. A second later, a cloud of dark ash swirled in front of me. A few meters away pinning the creature to the ground with his knees, Daniel pushed his thumbs through the last demon’s eyes.

  This round might have been ours.

  But could we win the fight?

  Seventeen

  The familiar scent of earth, herbs, and flowers wrapped around my senses like a well-worn blanket. Even as a child, I’d gravitate here after an argument with my parents or dealing with bullies. This was my home away from home, my place of refuge. I belonged here.

  I didn’t know how old the cave was, or who’d originally utilised it, but witches throughout the centuries had been using the place. Mum and Dead never did, or so they told me, preferring the comfort of their home, and Annalise had always claimed it too ‘spooky’ for her liking.

  But it suited me perfectly.

  I pulled Daniel inside, checking the wards. Salt ran under a protective layer of magic so no animals could ingest or disturb it, and a layer of moss and twigs protected it from human eyes. Not that many ventured into the forest. There were some of course, idiots who couldn’t be bothered to read maps properly or who believed that trespassing laws didn’t apply to them. But that only happened once every few years and the incredible magic that covered the forest tended to make them sick.

  The forest was only meant for the werewolves and my family. And that was the way we liked it.

  I had to protect us all.

  “Here,” I said, shoving a mortar and pestle into Daniel’s hand. “Make yourself useful and start grinding those nettles. Once they’re done, cut up a bit of that bark in that jar on the right.”

  Tossing a dark look my way, Daniel began the tasks I’d assigned him. I grabbed a bottle of water and untwisted the cap as the bitter aroma of nettles swirled on the air. “What are we making?” he asked, grinding away.

  I took a long swallow of the water then set it on the earthen ledge beside him. Four ledges ran along the right-hand side of the cave, wooden boards placed on top, with various jars and bottles of potions and ingredients. Some were years old, others prepared a few days ago. Herbs hung from the ceiling in the back, drying, waiting to be used in the next batch of potions. In the centre sat a small hearth with a pot waiting for me. On the other side was a small table and a chair, and a bed where I’d rest at times. Like the ledges, it’d been fashioned out of the earth centuries before my birth, but a thin mattress and a few worn blankets make it comfortable for when it was necessary.

  I gathered a few pieces of wood and cast a fire spell to lite the hearth. Can’t be a witch without a cauldron, right? “A potion,” I told him, r
ummaging through the bottles for the correct ingredients.

  “I gathered that,” Daniel said testily, offering the mortar of grinded nettles to me. I grabbed it, chucked them into the pot, and handed it back. “But what kind of potion?”

  “One that should work on demons.”

  “Should? You don’t know for certain?” Scepticism flooded his voice, but he still reached for the jar containing the bark I needed.

  “The only things certain in life are that the tax man will screw you out of every last penny and we’re going to die,” I said, chucking in half a tub of salt. I rose my head and fixed him with a hard stare. “But I’m not dying today. Nor are my pack.”

  “You’re not a werewolf, Alana,” Daniel said, his brows knitting together, his eyes soft in the limited light cast from the fire and the makeshift door.

  I shook my head and stirred the pot. “No, but they’re my friends. They’re my family. And it’s my job to look after them, even if they weren’t my friends. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll be damned if I allow some fucked up wizard and his demon cronies to hurt what’s mine.” My voice was low, but the truth behind them resonated through the cave.

  I caught one side of Daniel’s mouth turning upwards as he handed me the diced-up bark. The scent of oak filled my nostrils. It invigorated me, coursed through my veins like pure energy. “So tell me more about this spell.”

  “It’s something I learned from a spellbook I found years ago. When the Academy expelled me, I kinda went a little nuts. I had no direction, no school, and a reputation for being a trouble-maker,” I told him, my tone hard initially but as I started talking it became softer. “When I came home, my parents didn’t know what to do with me. Dad started teaching me how to make potions. I took to it like a duck to water, even though witches don’t tend to deal with potions.”

  “No, but mages and a few wizards do.”

  “That’s right. Can you pour some of that water in the blue bottle into the pot, please? It’s from the stream that flows through the forest.” Daniel did as I requested, and I continued to stir. A bitter-sweet scent infused the air, and shimmering white light bubbled on top of the potion. “Anyway, since I wasn’t allowed to study at the Academy, I learnt everything at home. Dad took me to a market in London when I was fifteen, and I found this old spellbook full of old potions and elixirs. I’ve made almost all of them, from the Philtre of Phantoms, a Flask of Shielding, and a Vial of Sun.”

  “You’ve made a Vial of Sun?” Daniel asked, shock written across his face. “Even I haven’t made that yet.”

  I shrugged a shoulder, a bubble of self-satisfaction rising in me at his incredulous tone. No way was I going to show him just how much I liked it. “I get bored out here at times. There’s only so much hiking and playing with the pack a girl can do. I’m a damned good potion maker, but I’ve not tried everything in the book. I’m hoping I’ve got this right.”

  “So do I…” Daniel muttered, taking a long swallow of the water. He passed it to me, but I shook my head. “What’s it meant to do?”

  “According to the book, drive demons away. It doesn’t go into great detail. It’s done anyway. Grab those little vials on the top shelf and I’ll pour it in.”

  “It’s not going to work on Henry or any other wizard out there,” Daniel said, placing several vials on the shelf and uncapping them. I ladled out some of the potion and poured the clear liquid in. There was a faint shimmer to the liquid, as if silk had somehow been melted down.

  “No, it won’t, but we’ll need something against demons at the very least. My spells won’t hold them off for long. There’s some salt left; we’ll take that with us. For your cousin, there should be a few potions in here that could work.” I gave him a sideways glance. “You’ve got a really fucked-up family, you know.”

  Daniel’s shoulders sagged under the weight of my words. “You don’t have to tell me, I already know. At least Millie’s a good one.”

  The warmth in his tone at his cousin’s name made me smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Daniel.”

  A small smile spread across his face, and his eyes latched onto mine. His fingers cupped my face, the scent of nettles and bark on his hands invading my senses, along with his own aroma. Sweet Goddess, he smelled like the forest, heady and inviting. His face lowered, and his lips covered mine. A groan slipped out of his mouth and I took it into my own, savouring it, savouring him. His lips moved across mine delicately, like a rose petal he didn’t want to bruise. My hands reached around and settled on his hips. The world slipped away, fading to nothing but the gentle caress of silk on my lips.

  Reluctantly, we pulled away. Daniel rested his forehead against mine and a sigh slipped out of my mouth. We didn’t have time for this.

  We had demons and wizards to kill.

  Eighteen

  We clanged and jangled as we made our way through the forest once more, the potions clinking together as they hung from our waists. What we really needed was a potions belt, the kind that mages wore around their hips. But alas, we weren’t mages and we didn’t possess one.

  Instead, we were using the old tool belts my father once used when he went through his DIY phase twenty years ago. Unfortunately, he wasn’t very good at fixing stuff around the house and made more damage instead of fixing. Fortunately, Mum convinced him to give it up.

  And I got the tool belts instead. I’d been using them to fix the table last week and my lazy self forgot to take them back home. Oh well. Sometimes you’ve got to make do with what you’ve got on hand.

  Along with the potion I’d just brewed, hopefully correctly, were vials of salt and a few other goodies which should help. Neither of us knew what Henry had as backup. My athame, a dagger I used to make potions and a gift from another witch several years ago, sat at my right hip. Only a fool relies on magic completely.

  And I’m not a fool.

  “Won’t it bother you?” I asked, as we jumped over a log.

  “What?”

  “Killing your cousin?”

  Daniel glanced my way, extending a hand and making a derisive noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t make me laugh. Henry’s always been a selfish brat. He’s a racist, too. I’ve got no loyalty for him after what he’s done.”

  “What about Millie? Won’t she be sad you’ve killed her brother?”

  Daniel turned to me, his brow creased. “Millie’s a cousin from my mother’s side and she’s always called him a slimy bastard. Henry’s from my father’s side.”

  OK, then.

  We fell back into silence, hurrying through the trees, heading towards Wolf Village from the west. Anxiety fluttered along my nerves, a fast-paced tango that never seemed to end. Dark smoke floated on the breeze, carrying the stench of destruction. The tango picked up the tempo, and my heart raced within the confines of my ribcage. Red sparks lit up the canopy in front of us, like miniature fireworks, then faded as maniacal laughter followed it.

  I reached out my hand to grab Daniel’s but snapped it back immediately. I needed my hands free more than I needed comfort.

  Well, if I’m being honest, I needed both.

  Daniel held a finger to his lips, gesturing to be silent. Cocking his thumb to the right, he started moving gingerly in that direction. For a split second, I didn’t know where to go. Did I follow him or go to the left? I hated decisions as much as I hated not having the choice.

  Muscles tensed, adrenaline racing, I inched my feet to the left. The school building was only feet away. I could use that as cover to see what was going on. Glancing to my right, Daniel was already out of sight.

  I tried to inhale, to fill my lungs with oxygen, to steady my nerves, but it didn’t work. Cautiously, I crept towards the building where I’d sat and listened to lectures with the pack over the years, taking care not to make any sound. Witches, like most other supernatural beings, can sense someone else with magical blood. I reached out with my senses, searching for my pack.

  There were a few her
e, in one of the cabins, but I couldn’t tell which one.

  The wood of the school building was reassuring beneath my fingers. Red sparks continued to blaze through the sky, but the laughter ceased to trail behind it. I peeked from behind it and suppressed a cry.

  Many of the cabins lay in ruins, toppled over like colossal statues spoiled from time. Toys and books lay forgotten around the hearth, no doubt one of the female wolves were playing with the cubs when Henry attacked. Speaking of the devil …

  Malice painted the wizard’s face. He moved around the open fire-place gracefully as a predatory cat, casting spells at the remaining houses. Taylor’s home creaked under the attack, the century’s old wood groaning with the force. If I could just blast him with a spell, then this could be over and done without him seeing me. All I needed was to get a little closer …

  Arms wrapped around me from behind, crushing me against a hard chest and lifting me up several inches off the ground. A cry threatened to tear itself from my throat but, before it could, a hand gripped my throat, squeezing off any air.

  I couldn’t see who held me, but he reeked of stale cigarette smoke and cheap beer. Henry turned our direction as I was dragged from behind the school building and unceremoniously dumped at the wizard’s feet. I sucked in as much oxygen as my lungs could take, my throat aching, but before I could make any move, Henry blasted me with a spell.

  My entire went stiff as a board. Panic unfurled within me as I struggled to move, only to find I couldn’t. Damn it, it was exactly the same spell I’d used on my sister when I caught her stealing my dolls as kids. Which meant I wasn’t going to be able to move any time soon if he was good as I was.

  Where was Daniel?

  Henry stepped towards me, his grin sending shivers of dread over my skin. He knelt down beside me, tilting his head, assessing me. “Looks like the protector of the guardians can’t even protect herself, huh, Mikey?” The man who’d dumped me, I presumed, chuckled. The smile on Henry’s face faded and his eyes grew cold and assessing. “Where’s that cousin of mine? Mikey, go look for him. That bleeding heart won’t be too far,” he said, his voice dripping with scorn.