One of the lead wolves raised his head and gave a hunting cry. At the command the pack charged toward her, the dust their paws raised streaming behind them in the heavy air. After a few hundred yards the charge faltered. The wolves slowed and exchanged almost human glances.
Amber stood, waiting.
Behind them came a snarl and they resumed running directly at Amber. Howls echoed to the horizon and back.
Amber settled her feet on the hot stones, ignoring the burning pain.
It’s only a dream. Pain is transient.
Wait.
The wolves ran hard toward her until a few feet away, then the tide of fur parted and they rushed past her to either side. Wheeling about they stalked toward her … prowling … circling … constantly moving. Jostling for position. They yipped, snarled, and growled, to each other and at her.
Run … run … run … came a whisper in her mind.
One wolf took up position behind her, brushing against her skin. Then he leaned his weir body against her, trying to force her down or into motion.
She dug her toes into the stone, refusing to move.
The other wolves started running back and forth across the dream. Away, then back to where she stood. With each mock charge her heart beat faster. The skin on the back of her neck crawled and her instinct demanded she run. Hide. Amber breathed deep through her nose, forcing herself to stay still, calm. One wolf leapt, flying past her in a blur of fur and teeth. She moved her head just enough to dodge the snapping muzzle only inches from her face.
Run … run … run …
From her childhood came the warning in her father’s voice. Never run from a dog. If you run, he will chase. They will always chase. Once you run, you’re prey. Don’t run.
Run … run …
Amber studied the wolves as they paced around her feet. She couldn’t remember offering offense to the world of the spirit guides. Done nothing recently that would inspire an attack. Unless by touching the web she’d become contaminated. Rejected by the spirit world as well as the house?
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The words sank, dull and empty into the dream.
The wolves did not respond.
Perhaps this is an ordinary nightmare, thought Amber, examining the dreamscape again.
No. That didn’t seem likely. Her imagination didn’t work that way. This was no ordinary dream. This was intense. Too much detail. Too much information.
One heavy male took up position directly before her, a hundred yards away, looked into her eyes and pawed the earth. Deep in his chest she could hear him grumbling. Growling threats.
Claws digging into the hard soil he ran toward her. Each movement graceful, determined. He gave her plenty of time to fear, to panic; so she refused to do either.
Instead she resisted the emotions, digging her fingernails into her palm. At the last moment she dropped face down as the wolf leapt, passing over her. Twisting and coming back up on her knees Amber saw the wolf land again. Immediately a dark pelted bitch rushed him, knocking the leaper to his side. The male rolled onto his back and bared his throat in submission. The bitch glanced toward Amber, almost questioning.
Amber remained crouched and made no move, no sound, still ignoring the others who clustered close against her skin. The brush of their fur raised the hairs on the back of her bare arms. The wolf bitch looked back and forth between the still cowering male and Amber. Then with a savage rip of her teeth, tore out the male’s throat. His blood fountained into the air, with each beat of his heart throwing his life up and out to cover the watching wolves. Howling, the pack rushed past Amber and joined their alpha in feeding on blood flowing from his ruined neck.
Licking her blood splattered muzzle the she-wolf stared at Amber.
Next time, came the whisper. Next time … run.
Chapter Three
Amber awoke, shaking. Cold to the bone. Cold in her spirit.
Safe. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering under the warm covers. She was home and safe. Nothing could hurt her in her aunt’s house. The wards were old and strong and … nevertheless, her heart was pounding in her throat.
“That was really … odd.”
Odd. No, more than odd. Sick. Scary. Wrong. Very wrong.
Spirit guides did not attack. They might put her through the psychic equivalent of running an obstacle course, but they didn’t try to kill her. Or each other.
It was sick. That attack. Drinking the blood of another wolf. It wasn’t a dream; her mind most definitely did not work that way. She didn’t know what it was and she did not want to go back into that vision again.
Vision, yes. But of what and why?
“Hey, Amber,” Rust emerged from a blanket on the other side of the room. “Are you okay?”
Amber summoned a smile from somewhere. “Sure, fine. Go to bed.”
“If you’re sure,” Rust yawned. “No double vision?”
“Go. I’m fine.”
“Do you need a drink of water? Wanna play name the President?” he asked. “Still have a headache?”
“No, no, and no. Go to bed.”
He nodded and staggered from the room, dragging his blanket after him.
Pushing aside the duvet that felt as if it weighed a ton, Amber climbed to her feet and turned on the overhead light. Blinking in the sudden brightness she stared down at her hands. In the dream blood had flown everywhere and splattered all over her naked arms and chest.
Why did she expect to still see it?
She glanced down at her watch. Five twenty a.m. She’d been running low on sleep for weeks trying to avoid getting fired, trying to finish a year’s worth of work in a few days. Trying to impress faceless people who couldn’t have picked her out of a line-up to save their lives. She should have been asleep for hours yet, but no, here she was wide awake and worried at o’shit o’clock in the morning.
Maybe that hit to her head and her recent stress had left her feeling hunted. Led to her having a perfectly abnormal nightmare.
Her life recently was one mistake after another. If Smoke was right, one of the biggest mistakes was taking that damn job in New York in the first place. Another was not accepting the job that Lucinda had offered her straight out of college. That job came with the offer of serious magical training. And Amber, stupidly it seemed now, had turned it down.
If she’d taken the job, accepted the training, then maybe Lucinda wouldn’t be missing. Amber would be fully trained, experienced, instead of … what? Under attack from a giant spider? A pack of dream wolves?
They would have teamed up, faced the Giant Monster issue together. She could envision their matching super suits – her aunt in her denim duster and Amber in … leather. Yes. Brown leather with an Indiana Jones hat.
But … but being herself, declaring her independence from both sides of the family had been vitally important.
She’d made the decision and this was the consequence.
She had a problem. Several problems. Hiding under the blankets from the boogie man was a kid’s solution. A grown-up, particularly a grown-up witch, had to get up and deal.
Amber started wandering around the library, idly picking books off the shelves and flipping through a few pages. She’d no idea where to start. It wasn’t as if there were a book entitled, Here’s the Answer, Amber, or Spiders on the Ethereal Planes: Their Causes and Treatment. She sank down onto a window seat and rested her head against the glass. There was an answer somewhere; she just had to find it.
Oh, well. It wasn’t as if she were an expert in data mining.
Oh, yeah. She was.
Standing she crossed to the screened area Smoke had pointed out when she’d arrived. There was a very nice computer humming away that responded to her passwords without complaint. She pulled up the library catalog and started searching.
Smoke entered the library just after eight with a breakfast tray.
“I’m surprised to see you up and about already, Amber. You wer
e wiped out yesterday.”
“Still wiped out, if you must know. Oh, coffee. You’re a life saver.” Amber rubbed her face and squinted against the unforgiving morning light. “I can’t afford to sit about. There’s so much stuff to go through.”
“What are you up to?”
Amber waved at the piles of books and printouts scattered over tables, chairs, and the coffee table.
“Looking for any legend that talks about spiders. There are dozens of them. Japanese, Hindu, Chinese, and Native American. All of them talk about spiders, but none of them come close to describing what happened to me.”
The phone at her elbow rang shrilly and her whole body jumped. Taking a deep breath she checked the display. Laurenville Books. She tilted the phone to show it to Smoke who frowned, then nodded his permission for her to answer.
“Morning?” She wouldn’t say “good” until she knew what the call was about.
“Hi, Miss … um … DeGoode is it? This is Karl Benn. We met yesterday. Laurenville Books manager.”
“Yes, I remember,” she infused her voice with as much enthusiasm as she could manage precaffeinated.
Smoke, bless him, handed her a mug.
“I didn’t get your name yesterday and all I have here is your aunt’s name.”
“Actually, it’s Amber Kemp.”
Smoke groaned and she wrinkled her nose at him. It wasn’t as if she’d given him her full name or any of her magical names.
“Right, well, we were a bit too busy to be introduced, Ms. Kemp. I hope this isn’t too early to call. I just checked the website to look at your aunt’s book order.”
Amber glanced at her watch. She’d been awake, if not up, since five thirty.
“Sorry,” said Karl, “I …”
“No, no, it’s not too early. I’m getting off to a slow start.” No kidding. “I still feel odd after yesterday, and I’m having nightmares. Please excuse me if I’m foggy.”
“Perhaps you should have stayed in the hospital. Concussion can be a serious problem.”
Amber rolled her eyes and Smoke leaned closer, pressing his ear to the receiver.
“A concussion isn’t worrying me so much right now as my aunt. Have you had a chance to ask around?”
“Not everyone is on duty this morning, but those who are here setting up say they don’t remember anyone like your aunt. I’ve had a chance to look at the website order. Giant Monsters wasn’t the only thing she ordered. Perhaps your aunt was having some sort of midlife crisis. Based on this list, I gotta say, she’s chosen some weird reading material.”
“I don’t know that someone wearing cowboy boots in the Poconos can make character judgments about weird,” muttered Smoke.
Amber grinned.
“What was that?” demanded Karl.
“My cousin Smoke is listening on the other line,” said Amber, giving Smoke a quelling glance. “What books did my aunt order?”
“Ah, let’s see. Psychic Self-Defense, Making Your Own Spells, Finding Your True Path and …” the voice on the other end of the phone hesitated. “Ah, do you happen to know if your aunt was depressed or something?”
Amber glanced at Smoke who shook his head vigorously.
“Happy. Real happy,” she answered. “Why?”
“I only ask,” said Karl, “because one of the books she ordered is … um … Legends of Death and Rebirth: A Multi-Religion View.”
“She hasn’t asked for the life story of Dr. Kevorkian so I’m not worried about suicide,” said Amber. “When she and my uncle disappeared they were going on vacation. A second honeymoon sort of thing. And those books aren’t weird by my aunt’s standards. If anything, they’re pretty mild.” Amber glanced up at the shelves rising above her head. “I don’t understand. She has those already. The Psychic Self Defense one, I’m certain she has a copy already. The only different book is the Giant Monsters one.”
“Whatever,” said Karl. “According to the site your aunt did a search for witchcraft and magic. Sounds like early senility to me.”
Amber had her hand over Smoke’s mouth before he could form a single word and shook her head. She could hear something behind Karl’s words. A trembling, not quite fatigue, something like … anger? Pain? If Karl was angry she couldn’t tell what about. It could be having to talk to someone – her – whose odd behavior could mean a lawsuit. A nice mundane reason. And some people didn’t react well to anything that hinted police and lawyers might come into their lives.
“That’s awfully judgmental for someone who’s got the books for sale,” she snapped, stretching her abused senses. What was it she was hearing?
“I bought out this place a couple of years ago,” said Karl. “A lot of the stranger, secondhand stock is left over from then.”
Nothing. She couldn’t sense a thing. Of course, being separated by miles of wire, electricity, and technology would make things difficult even if she wasn’t feeling so washed out.
“Well, I appreciate you taking the time,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll call again when I’ve spoken to the rest of my staff, but I’ve got to say I don’t think it will help. I don’t think your aunt was here. I’m very sorry. I hope you find her. Good luck.”
Ignoring Smoke’s disbelieving look, Amber smiled into the phone, putting all the cheerfulness she could fake into her voice.
“Well, at this point even negative information helps. I appreciate you taking the time. Thank you so much.”
He mumbled something incomprehensible in reply. She hung up and stared into her cooling coffee cup.
“You gonna let him get away with that?”
“With what?” Amber tilted her head toward Smoke.
“With … with … argghh,” Smoke jumped up from the table and started pacing across the stone floor. “I know he’s involved somehow.”
“Sure he is. But right now I can’t tell at this distance what his involvement is. There’s something in his voice that … I can’t read.”
Smoke turned to face her.
“So?”
“So, I’m going to have to see him again, in person.”
“That’s dangerous. You’re not well.”
“I know. But I have a feeling,” she leaned back in her chair, resting her eyes, “that I’m not going to be feeling better until I sort this out.”
“Okay, but you’re not going anywhere alone.”
“Deal!”
* * * * *
Karl considered kicking his office table and decided he didn’t need a pain in his foot to go with the throbbing ache in his head. Just looking at the titles of those stupid books sent daggers through his skull. Books on magic and sorcery were a damn waste of paper and ink. They shouldn’t exist.
He stretched, rubbed his face, and reached for a cup of water and a couple of pain killers and sat sipping. The phone call hadn’t gone well; although, right now he wasn’t sure what he’d wanted out of the call. He’d dialed the number with the intention of completely shutting down this potential problem.
Your aunt didn’t come into the shop. No, there’s nothing wrong with the order. She paid. She got books. People weird enough to buy books on magic – magic, for heaven’s sake! – were a danger to themselves and others and should be locked up somewhere safe until they grew a damned brain, for shit sake. And while we’re talking could you promise not to sue for loose carpeting or anything like that?
And then he’d heard her soft voice, a perfect match for the toffee hair and ivory skin, and he’d prolonged the conversation. Promised to call again. What was he trying to do, anyway? Get a date with someone who still might sue?
She was cute, sure, but who needed the crazy? He knew the danger of crazy girlfriends.
“Boss?”
Karl shook his mind onto a different path and beckoned his senior sales associate into the room. She looked much the same as he felt. Her tightly curled hair was streaked with grey and her face heavy with makeup and fatigue. Any other employer would kick
both of them to the curb given how slowly they both moved. But she turned up every scheduled shift and managed to stay awake for her full eight hours which was more than most of the other staff accomplished.
“How’d it go?” asked Bessie, tapping the pile of boxes with her bright red nails. Internet book orders waiting to go out. Aside from the coffee shop, almost his only income.
“Pretty much what you’d expect,” said Karl, tipping his chair back onto two legs. “She’s keeping to her original story and isn’t threatening any action yet. Still, it’s a good thing the security camera was watching the entrance when she came in. We can’t afford the legal fees. Not until business picks up.”
“Is business going to pick up?” Bessie put an innocent expression on her broad brown face, but Karl wasn’t fooled. No one who worked for him was under any illusions. The only thing keeping them going was the online second-hand service and the coffee shop. With the skiers in the winter the coffee shop did pretty well. It was this summer that business was down. It might be the economy, but the hikers hadn’t come back this year. The locals must have been seduced by the e-book side of the force and … excuses, excuses. His business was dying slowly, just like him.
“I can meet the payroll, Bess.”
“This month,” said the woman pulling herself to her feet and picking a box of coffee supplies off the floor.
“This month,” echoed Karl, as the door closed.
He dragged himself into the employee bathroom and splashed water onto his face. He stood for a moment looking at the gray that was overwhelming the black in his hair. It was pointless to think about the woman who’d collapsed on his floor yesterday as anything other than a potential liability. His was not the face that anyone other than a mother could love. There was no vigor, no drive in his skinny collection of bones. Anyone as sick as he obviously was – never mind that the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with him – had no business thinking about dating. As if he had the energy for a sex life nowadays.
And witches. Amber was better off without her aunt if Auntie-dear was getting into witchcraft.
First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) Page 7