Destiny's Child (The Kitsune Series)

by Morgan Blayde

  That red was lacking from my own aura, but not Cassie’s. That’s probably how Wocky knew I had been bluffing about the spoon and all. Though, in a worst case scenario, I could always close my eyes, cover my ears, and hum loudly while Cassie went to work. There are definite advantages to having a parent with psychopathic tendencies.

  “That’s just great,” the Trickster said. “Now it’s mothmen.”

  “Welcome to my world.” I felt the itching on my back that told me my baby moth wings wanted to sprout again.

  The news-types were a pain, but there was no way I wanted them dead at the hands of irate bugs. With a sigh on my lips, I let my sword collapse to nothing and crossed back, an electric tingle sweeping my skin. My aura went back to being invisible, as gravity slammed on full force. The gray tones warmed with color. Sunlight went from washed out to vibrant as I left the ghost realm behind.

  I ran to the vans, grabbing people, shoving them into motion. “Get in the vans, quick.”

  So, of course, everyone dug in their heels and ignored what I said, shoving microphones in my face. Questions beat at me like mothman wings:

  “Were you gene-spliced in some secret government lab?”

  “What planet are you from?”

  “How does it feel to be a freak?”

  “Get in these vehicles,” I yelled, “or you can ask some real freaks that question.”

  One of the men swung his camera to point up into the air. “Mothmen! I see real mothmen.”

  “Real hungry mothmen.” I tried to scare them into obeying me. “Maybe they’re looking for a snack!”

  The whirr of their wings rushed across us. They were looming larger now, not more than thirty yards out.

  A cameraman said, “Don’t moths eat clothes?”

  There’s always one geek who watches the Nature Channel.

  The reporters shrieked in panic and stampeded into the vans. Couldn’t blame them; they were wearing hundreds of dollars in blazers, skirts, fancy pumps, and assorted bling. The cameramen followed, and I was left alone to face the oncoming mothfolk. I wondered if they’d followed Ryan’s scent to get here, a scent that led to nowhere with him on the other side of the veil with Cassie and the Trickster right now.

  They wheeled twenty-five feet up, flying a complex search pattern that drifted more and more over where Ryan was. They were ignoring me and the vans. The camera guys filmed through the windows, not about to pass up this footage. I crossed over. My stomach barely settled before I ghosted into the closest van. Unseen by the occupants, I drifted over their heads, reaching down here and there to touch a camera and pull a surge of veil current through the mechanisms. Van by van, I made sure there was no record of this event. The veil’s current is the main reason I don’t carry a cell phone or any electronic device. They don’t handle transition energy very well. As the cameramen realized their cameras had crashed, I was forced to make another circuit to take out people’s cell phones. I knew if all this wound up on the news, Virgil would find some way to blame me for it.

  Leaving the last van, I moon-bounced over to Wocky and the Trickster. Cassie had already rejoined them. She’d not only fetched a large tablespoon, but also a corkscrew, an ice pick, and a shaker of salt. I would never again be able to look at such common things without a shiver going up my spine. I noticed Wocky eyeing them with equal unease.

  He looked up at me. “You’d better let me loose so I can help you with the moth-ers.”

  “Uh-uh, you’d only sic them on us,” the Trickster said. “We’ll all just sit here and wait ‘til they lose interest and go away.”

  I knelt near Wocky and used a small amount of shadow and aura to make a dagger. I smiled at him. “Now, about this new brand I seem to have acquired on my back…”

  “What?” he said. “You think I put that there?”

  “Dude, it’s your name! Written in demon. Of course you did. If you’re going to jerk my chain, I’m turning you over to Cassie. She might not be able to kill you, but I suspect she knows how to carve you up into a thousand pieces of agony. What do you suppose will happen to you if we bury various body parts all across the country in mason jars? We could even take a few jars to alternate realities. Good luck finding them then.”

  He smiled. “I’d share all my pain with you through the mark. Knowing that, Cassie wouldn’t dare touch me.”

  I looked at Cassie. She looked at me. We both sighed. He had us. We couldn’t touch him.

  Cassie threw away the items she’d collected. As they left her aura-sheathed hands, they returned to the human side of the veil, falling fast under normal gravity.

  I looked at Coyote. “Okay, your show. What are you going to do next?”

  He shrugged. “Give my customer a two-for-one. I was only contracted for a mothman, and this one was handy, but they probably won’t care much if it’s possessed.”

  My brow furrowed. “You’re selling him into slavery? Man, I studied that in school. There’s, like, a constitutional amendment against that. It’s bad.”

  “Only if you get caught,” he said. “Look, normally I wouldn’t be dealing in, uh, exotic pets,” he smiled at his own euphemism, “but Inari isn’t the only one I owe. I’m doing this because I really don’t want to wind up skinned and turned into a fireplace rug.”

  “You should think about joining Gamblers’ Anonymous,” Cassie said.

  “I ought to, but I won’t,” Coyote said. “I’m too addicted to risks to ever stop.”

  Wocky broke into the conversation, “So, uh, who exactly are you handing this body over to?”

  “The Hysane, a couple of dimensions over.”

  Cassie drew in a sharp breath.

  Wocky went very still. “You’re joking?”

  The Trickster sighed. “Sorry, no.”

  “But the Hysane are low-brow monsters,” Wocky said, “and tacky as Hell. Their amusements are legendary for cruelty and barbarism—just blood, gore, and raw suffering. No finesse at all.”

  Hysane. “Never heard of them.”

  “Tough bastards,” Cassie said. “I was forced to fight in their games a couple hundred years ago. I won my freedom, but most don’t. Most die rather horribly. The Hysane are—”

  “Are here.” Coyote scanned the surrounding area.

  Cassie spun around.

  I swiveled, staring. “In the ghost realm?”

  I saw nothing at first, then my eyes were drawn to violet flames on the ground. The fire danced higher as small hills formed under them. The hills became heads, bald and mottled. The pumpkin-sized heads rose from the ground, balanced on shoulders that were clotted with muscle. The creatures ghosted up into sight, massive barrel chests followed by narrow, bony hips and lizard-like haunches. Their feet were clawed. They whished massive tails behind them. They appeared to be a blend of man and dragon, staring at us with pitiless black eyes.

  “Fine,” Wocky said. “Grace, get me out of this binding, and I will take back my mark.”

  “Mark first,” I said. “Then we’ll talk about you.”

  “No,” Wocky said, “the bindings first.”

  “Too late for deals now,” Coyote said. “They’ve come for what I’ve promised. Without the demon in him, the mothman isn’t alive enough to be interesting. I thought I’d have more time. As it is, both gotta go.”

  The closest dragon-man waved a claw at the Trickster, and hissed with a few spits thrown in. A mechanical device strapped to his stubby throat translated. “We have come for what you have promised.”

  “I have him here,” Coyote nodded at Wocky. “All wrapped up and ready to go.”

  The Hysane gestured to Cassie and me. “What about them?”

  Coyote jerked a thumb at Cassie. “She’s a past winner of your games. By your laws, she cannot again be made to play.” He smiled at me. “As for the young one, she is just a babe. You won’t get much of a show from her.”

  “Kitsune?” the dragon-man hissed. “Good breeding stock for the slave pens.”

&
nbsp; My fire-and-shadow dagger grew into a broadsword. I swung it around to point at the leader of the Hysane. “You want to die, just say that again.”

  They stared at my sword. One of them hissed with great excitement. His translator erupted with words, “Half kitsune, half Shadow.”

  The dragon-man that had been doing most of the talking stepped closer. His claw raked the air toward Coyote. “We will give you four hundred bars of gold for her.”

  Coyote smiled. “Done!”

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Virgin white, lace and veils,

  vows and curses never fail.

  Come sell your soul

  for a road to hell.”

  —Shotgun Wedding

  Elektra Blue

  I was about to lop off Coyote’s head with my sword when Cassie tackled me. An electric wave passed through me. My aura snapped out like an expired match as color and gravity kicked in full force. I fell to my knees, Cassie’s arms still around me. For the first time ever, I hadn’t crossed back on my own. She’d wrenched us both across the veil. To all appearances we were alone with the news crews, but I had the feeling that the chase would be on in moments.

  Cassie pushed to her feet, strong-arming me up. She ran, holding my hand, pulling me into motion. I didn’t argue. She knew these Hysane. If she thought we ought to run, I’d go along with her. We crossed the dirt drive and plunged into the woods. As we ran full out, Cassie gasped out a message: “No matter what … don’t phase … underground.”

  “Why not?”

  “Earth-dragons, it’s their … element.” She jumped over a fallen tree that had been caught between another pair of trees, making a diagonal slide of it. I put a hand on the rough bark to help me over, and stumbled out of the landing on the other side, but kept moving. She added, “You won’t win that way.”

  Okay, good, warning noted.

  “But wouldn’t we at least make better time … in the ghost realm?”

  “They can’t fully materialize … in our world.” We were slanting down a hill now, slowing as we hopped small boulders and skidded in old pine needles. An acrid dust tickled my nose, but I didn’t sneeze.

  Five feet ahead, a dusky shape rose from the ground, a flattened Hysane, flickering around the edges like a violet flame. His lumpy face was finely scaled. He blinked at me, both an upper and a lower eyelid that met in the middle. He reached out with a claw-tipped hand, the claws glossy black.

  Cassie slowed even more, whipping me forward. “Your sword,” she yelled.

  I thrust my hand forward, pouring aura and shadow into my grip. Shadow-cored flame stabbed out. My sword pierced the apparition. A hole appeared as a big chunk of him belled away from my blade. Despite his reaction, I’d made contact, so there was no escape. His substance shattered. I fell through a glowing, violet snow that winked out as it touched me, leaving icy patches on my skin. I dragged Cassie in my wake, our hands still locked in a death grip of desperation.

  “These guys aren’t so tough,” I yelled.

  “They want you alive,” Cassie yelled back. “It makes a difference.”

  Oh. We angled to the side as we ran, going with the flow of the woods. “The flat rock will be coming up soon.”

  Movement overhead and to the sides caught my attention. A quick glance told me we had more company. “Bugs!”

  Cassie swiveled her head, a sweeping glance that took in the gray and brown flurry of moth-people wings. They’d been all male before. Now there were females mixed in, boobs bouncing in the wind. Fortunately, everyone’s lower regions were covered by thick fur. Fuzz also covered their heads, hiding features, but not their lantern-bright, compound eyes. Those eyes whirled weirdly with shades of blue and green. Antennae, like feathery fronds, waved above their heads, each filament writhing like gray worms.

  Ick!

  “I thought they wanted Ryan,” I said. “Why follow us?”

  Before Cassie could answer, a pair of Hysane rose from the forest floor, angled in a way that made me think we were being herded.

  “This way,” I yelled. I tugged Cassie sharply to the side, cutting behind the backs of the dragon-men. We went off the crest of a bank and skidded over stone and roots, pushing dust and pine needles ahead of our feet. And then we were dropping straight down a rock face. Instinctively, Cassie and I crossed over together. My aura appeared, weak and faltering. I wasn’t going to be able to stay here long, but I didn’t need a lot of time. The world was gray, and gravity was washed out as well, along with inertia, so my fall slowed in defiance of normal physics. I brought my head down, swinging my feet back to kick against the cliff face.

  Several Hysane rose up out of the rock, looking as solid as I’d first seen them.

  Cassie and I sailed over their heads. These guys had the earth at their beck and call, but the sky had always been my friend.

  We landed lightly on the flat rock, hopped a few times, and crossed back to the human world.

  “Those guys ever give up?” I gasped. My legs and lungs were burning. I was used to running track and cross country, but this grueling pace was killing me.

  “Who?” Cassie said. “Dragons or bugs?”

  Heading across the flat rock toward the highway, footing was prime, letting me spare a glance back. The Hysane were gone from sight but the mothfolk were furiously fluttering, determined to stay with us.

  What’s their problem?

  With a grating sound, a twenty-foot wall of rock cut up into the air. Side sections speared up to block the sides. We skidded to a stop, palms hitting the front wall. I shot a glance behind us. A line of Hysane stood there, waiting patiently like game players secure in the knowledge of their invincibility.

  To make matters worse, the bugs had caught up to us, hanging overhead to form a ceiling.

  “We’ll have to go through the wall,” I said.

  “No,” Cassie said. “This is no longer ordinary rock. They’re animating it with pieces of their souls. We go in, we’ll be stuck.”

  “So we cross over and jump over it.”

  “Let’s try this instead.” Golden light filled her hand, shafting out into her own version of a sword. She rammed the point into the stone wall. It seared the air, blackening the rock, spilling a rain of sparks to the ground.

  I looked back at the Hysane. Several of the violet phantoms grabbed their chests in pain, their edges flickering even more. Hurting the rock seemed to hurt them. I pulled shadow from inside me and made a black sword that chilled the air with artic cold. I jammed the point near where Cassie’s blade had gone in. Heat and cold, we stressed the rock as we pulled our blades down, leaving slag-edged lines behind—but the lines closed like healed wounds.

  We pulled our swords out, turning to face the Hysane. One of them was on his knees. Several more were swaying unsteadily.

  “Any more options?” I asked.

  “Direct attack is all that’s left.”

  “Maybe not. Why aren’t the bugs attacking? It’s almost as if…”

  A wild thought occurred to me. I collapsed my shadow blade to free my hands, and stripped off the black denim bolero jacket I’d borrowed from Fran. It had been growing ever snugger. I dropped it on the flat rock and pulled my black tee up in back, leaving my breasts covered in front.

  Cassie shot me an inquiring glance that I caught from the edge of sight, my attention turned to the Hysane who crept closer like cooling lava.

  Jeez, could this moment get any tenser?

  I took a couple steps past Cassie, as if on my way to meet the enemy. I heard a gasp from Cassie and knew that what I’d suspected was true. “The squishy bumps are back, right?”

  I felt Cassie’s fingers tracing the skin over my shoulder blades, but no pressure on the bone ridges themselves.

  She said, “Like balloons about to pop.”

  “Stand back. I’m about to … flex … and hopefully spew out some pheromones.”

  Cassie came abreast of me, out of the line of splatter as I worked new grown musc
le and burst the bubbles on my back. I felt warm goo seeping down my back, and sudden freedom as sprouting wings unfurled. I managed to waggle them, boosting circulation.

  The closing line of Hysane stalled a moment as they studied the situation. Then their relentless advance continued.

  I stared up at the whirling cloud of moth folk. Their eyes were awhirl as well, a blue-green dance. Antennae fanned, slurping scents out of the air. There was a murmur of voices as a bunch of them rose and fell back, dropping like stones toward Cassie and me. “Just go with this,” I told Cassie. “I think they’re on our side.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Me, too.

  I lifted my arms.

  The Hysane were finally hurrying now. The rock walls surged, climbing higher and curving in to cage us.

  A pair of mothmen caught and jerked me into the sky. The shifters were inhumanly strong, the hands holding my wrists like bands of iron—not that I’d ever worn any for comparison.

  I heard a grunt from Cassie as another pair caught her, bringing her along as well. We were carried over the Hysane, and past them, back toward the woods we’d left. Ahead of us, thin spikes of rock stabbed up to block our way. We simply swayed around them at ever increasing speed. And then we were rushing above the woods that blurred past. The rectangular roofs of cabins appeared in various clearings connected by trails. And then we zoomed over the lodge, gliding down into the forest beyond.

  My moth guys swung me onto a tree, letting go. With half-numb hands, I managed to scramble and settle on a swaying limb, staying close to the trunk. Cassie was deposited near me, a little higher up.

  She stared down at me. “Seems like you were right.”

  “Had to happen sometime.”

  The rest of the mothfolk settled around us in nearby trees, their eyes fixed on me in a really creepy way.

  “Smart,” Cassie said, “staying off the ground so the Hysane can’t read their location, or ours.”

  The females in the surrounding—flock? Pack? Herd?—were changing. Their faces turned human, shedding fuzz, but the antennae remained, as did their wings. They showed no sign of modesty over their au naturel state. I’d have thought the moth dudes would be covertly ogling, the way males do, but no, they were sunflowers and I was the sun.