by C. J. Parker
Cain’s face reddened and his fists trembled. With a roar of fury, he lifted a heavy stone and brought it down upon his brother’s head, the crushing of Abel’s skull loud in the quiet night.
The intense urge to scream, flail his arms and weep nearly overtook Kangee. There was a deep need to rid himself of the scent of Abel’s death. The blended odors of hot metal and sulfur mingled with the scents of blood and rotting flesh and hung like a cloud of grief over him.
“Oh, my God.” Rhonda laid her hand over her stomach and looked away.
Kangee gritted his teeth. “Mother, why would you show this with the Outsiders here? What is your purpose?” Why was she showing his greatest shame?
Aetheria gave Kangee a reproving glance before giving her ring another twist.
Darkness fell and the moon rose full. Cain howled as his body contorted, bones broke and instantly healed, his skin split and bled as scales forced through, covering every inch of his body.
His eyes bulged and filled with blood. His breathing became labored. Fingernails extended to great lengths and curled into long claws, arms changed to lizard-like legs, rear legs bent forward and contorted to those of the animal he was becoming.
Cain’s face fractured as his jaw forced its way outward, teeth elongated and formed sharp, jagged points. His scream echoed over the land and descended into a low hiss.
“Behold, Cain, the first shapeshifter, the first dragon.” Aetheria’s voice sliced through Kangee’s fog of disbelief. “Cain’s curse.”
Cain vanished, and the light around the stunned group brightened.
The odor of rot and blood dissipated, and once again, Kangee searched the room for emotion. This time, he found it in nearly every visage. Troy glanced from Aetheria to Kangee, his face void of emotion and Aetheria’s expression of acceptance made Kangee’s stomach cramp with distress. Maybe the Guardians were right. They were less than human, lower than abominations.
The floor erupted with a blast of clay and rock.
Kangee’s heart jumped to his throat and blood roared in his ears. Dirt mounded and crumbled until a simple wooden box lay at the summit of a large dirt hill.
Aetheria strode toward the mound and gathered the box into her hands only to have it disintegrate, leaving behind an aged scroll cradled on her palms.
Kangee’s disappointment was palpable. He wanted this to end, to take Bobbie from this hut and tell her it was over. No curse, no prophecy. She had been through enough. Too much had been taken from her already.
“One who walks among the dead.” Aetheria glanced up from the scroll she was reading and looked Tabatha’s way.
“One who burns away any doubt.” She shifted her gaze toward Rhonda.
“And one of Cain’s own.” The old woman touched Bobbie gently on the knee.
“Mystics all, they will walk the earth in the time of redemption. Infinity flows in their blood. Justice only they can deliver, breaking the lineage. The children will be freed, no longer slaves to the affliction bequeathed to them by those in the beginning.”
Bobbie jumped from her chair. “No more shifters? We’ll be erased from the face of the earth like so much forgotten trash?”
Aetheria placed a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her back to her chair.
“Many will want to slay them, many more will fear change. Each will be marked with his beast.” Aetheria ran her fingertips over the dragon tattoo on Bobbie’s arm.
“This is the sign of the end. Those who follow will be likewise stained, and each will acquire the magic of those they join.
“Oaths they will swear. Loyalties will be steadfast.
“As in the beginning, brother will be pitted against brother. With victory, Cain will, at last, be forgiven for his sin, the murder of his brother who he has mourned through the centuries.
“The battle will be fought with given weapons. Their animals will sleep, unable to rise.” Aetheria rolled up the scroll and placed it in Bobbie’s hands. “The burden is now yours.”
Bobbie shook her head. “Oh, hell no. Answer me. Will the shifters die off?”
“I did not say that.” Aetheria signed and lowered her head. “They will no longer carry the burden of the sin of their originator. The curse will be lifted, and be considered a gift of God to be used for the good of humanity.”
Kangee stood from his chair and walked to stand in front of her. “Will the shifters be no more? Don’t torture Bobbie with your double talk, Mother.”
“There will be shifters to the end of time, Kangee. But they will not suffer the torment that you have suffered.”
Bertha rose from her chair and stood in front of Derek. “Derek Bainbridge, will you take the oath of loyalty? Do you love Tabatha enough to trust that what she is about to willingly undertake is the fight of justice? Will you accept the mark of the Chosen?”
Kangee leaned forward to look the other man in the eyes. “Do you understand you could lose your life if you join in this battle? Rightfully, it isn’t your fight.”
“I don’t fear death.” Derek turned his stare from Bertha’s to Tabatha’s. “I don’t understand how this is your fight either, Tabatha.” A moment of what seemed like indecision creased Derek’s brow. He peered up at Bertha then lowered his head again, in thought.
Tabatha rose from her chair and knelt at his feet. “Derek, look at me.”
He lifted his face a fraction gazing into her eyes.
“I don’t want you to do this. This is not your battle. Go home. I chose it to be my fight. Bobbie is my friend. Friends stick together.” Tabatha gripped both his hands in hers.
“I can’t leave you here, Tabatha.” He swallowed hard, tears on the brim of his eyes. “I lost Elizabeth. I couldn’t protect her. Losing her nearly killed me, but losing you would destroy me. Do you understand the difference? So, if I have to take this oath, fight whatever fight is coming, to save you, to get you to come home,” he turned to Bertha and lifted his chin defiantly, “I’ll take the damned oath.”
“So be it.” Bertha seized his wrist and uttered a spell.
“Son of a…” He pulled away as smoke and Hell’s own flames encircled his arm, but Bertha held on tightly.
“Let go.”
Tabatha screamed. “No! Bertha, why are you doing this?”
Bertha gripped Tabatha’s wrist bringing her and Derek’s wrists within inches of touching. The blinding blue flame wound around each wrist, darting at the tender skin like a living thing, burning off drops of blood as they hit the floor.
Tabatha cried out. Kangee’s heart twisted with pity.
Derek reached for Tabatha, his eyes panic-filled as tears streamed down her cheeks. Finally, the flame flickered and fizzled away.
Tabatha’s knees buckled, but Derek caught her in his arms, keeping her from hitting the floor. He held her as her sobs died away, leaving only hiccupping gasps.
Troy came to stand in front of Rhonda. “You have seen the agony this mark will inflict upon you if you choose to join Queen Moran in her fate. Are you willing to accept it?”
Rhonda’s body shook with great, quiet sobs and her cheeks were wet with tears. Lowering her face from view, Rhonda held her arm out without hesitation. “I’m ready.”
~~~
Bobbie paced the floor as Aetheria circled the room three times and then flung every window and door open. The setting sun chased away the dank darkness enveloping the atmosphere in the room.
Aetheria, Troy and Bertha exited the room, leaving the others behind.
Bobbie raced to her friends’ sides to help Tabatha bring Rhonda to a sitting position. Bobbie would never forgive herself if Rhonda were truly hurt.
“She’s out cold.” Tabatha brushed Rhonda’s hair from her face. “I need the journal.”
“Forget that damned book, Tab.” Bobbie didn’t understand how Tabatha could worry about the journal at a time like this.
“It explains how to ease pain. I don’t remember all of it.” Tabatha shook her head. “Someth
ing about ash of willow and sap from…damn it, I can’t remember. I need the journal. Where the hell did Bertha go?”
Bobbie understood how frustrated she must feel at not being able to help her friend because the same impotence ran through her.
Kangee stepped forward. “Tell me where it is.”
“On the night stand in my bedroom. Hurry, Kangee.” Tabatha’s shoulders slumped and relief flooded her expression
Looking like a monk in prayer, Derek sat beside Tabatha staring at Rhonda’s tattoo. “She’s not as strong as you and Bobbie. Think she’ll be okay?”
Bobbie nodded. “Rhonda was lucky. She passed out quickly. From what I saw, you two nearly lost it.”
“Nearly being the key word.” Derek glared at her.
“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know this was going to happen.”
Kangee returned, passing the journal to Bobbie, who opened it. “What page?”
“Toward the middle.” Tabatha paused then whispered a list of spells and chants. A smile lifted her lips. “Page one-sixty-two.”
“Ash of willow and dew of rose.” Bobbie read, trying not to laugh. “Then it says,
‘Teeth of Satan,
fire of Hell,
our soul you are baiting,
drawing us to your well.
Milk of the one true God,
ash of His beauty,
we’ll use this rod to do our duty’.”
Bobbie raised an eyebrow and smiled. “A bit hokey, don’t you think?”
“If it works, I don’t care if I have to recite Mary Had A Little Lamb.” Tabatha grabbed the journal and placed it beside her.
Bobbie glanced toward Kangee as he backed out the door. Moments later, he rushed back through and handed Tabatha four roses and a scoop of ash. Bobbie had a fleeting memory of a much younger Kangee handing her a bouquet of wild roses when they’d spoken the mating words as children. She shook her head and forced herself to bring her full attention back to Rhonda’s treatment.
“No dew on the roses this late in the day, so I brought ice and a metal bowl.” Kangee shrugged his shoulders. “The ash is still hot. Figured you could mix it up over the ice, cool it down.”
Taking the bowl from Kangee’s hands, Tabatha tossed the petals from the flowers into it and glanced around.
“What do you need?” Bobbie knelt beside her.
“A stone or stick, something to mash these up.” Tabatha moved to stand.
Kangee touched her shoulder and glanced at the woodpile sitting just outside the doorway. He pulled a splintered cudgel from the stack. When Tabatha reached for it, he withdrew. “I’ll do it.” He soon had a dull red paste of rose and ash.
Tabatha raked her fingertips into the mixture and spread it on Rhonda’s wrists until the tattoos were covered. She repeated the procedure with Derek, then herself. Slowly, Tabatha spoke the words from the journal. When she uttered the last line, the paste vanished into their skin.
“Well?” Kangee’s hands shook. “Did it work?”
A small cry from Rhonda drew Bobbie’s attention.
“Is it over?” Rhonda waved her arm in front of them and gazed at a miniature version of Bobbie’s tattoo dragon. “My momma is going to have a fit.”
Bobbie laughed with relief. “I guess it worked. Doesn’t hurt, crybaby?”
Rolling her eyes, Rhonda pushed herself to her feet. “Nah. That was a breeze.” She glanced at Tabatha and Derek’s arms. “Y’all scared me to death. They look exactly like Bobbie’s except hers is a lot bigger.”
Rhonda’s head snapped up. “I get what the old woman meant when she said, ‘Those who follow the Chosen will be likewise marked,’ but what’s that ‘each will acquire the magic of those they join’ all about?”
Tabatha clutched the cudgel used to make the paste, and with a flash of light, it burst into flame. “I think that’s what she meant.”
“Wait. Wait!” Bobbie’s mind swirled in a tangle of confusing possibilities. With a great shudder, she sat hard on the edge of the stage. “Do you think you can shift now? Can I raise the dead?”
“Only if the need arises.” Troy stood in the doorway dressed once again in street clothes. “You have each taken on the other’s gifts.” He nodded in acknowledgment to Derek. “It will be hardest for you to accept. You have to leave Tabatha now and come with me so I can train you in the way of our magic.”
“Not going to happen.” Derek shook his head. “Try door two.”
Dread rose up, tightening Bobbie’s chest. No! This couldn’t be happening. “Dear God. What have I done to my friends?” Had she known all this would happen, she’d never have followed Tabatha home to New Orleans from New York. She never should have left home in the first place. Selfish. She was stupid and selfish.
Her voice cracked. “I swear to you, Derek. I will keep Tabatha safe with my own life. You have to go with Troy. Learn as much as you can. Tabatha will need you to be everything you are now capable of being.”
She walked up to Troy and punched him in the chest with her forefinger. She leaned in and whispered, “You will return him to her quickly. I will do everything in my power to keep her safe, but you have to promise me you’ll have Derek back if Tabatha needs him.
Troy bowed low and straightened. “I vow he will be ready and at her side.”
Chapter Eleven
Rhonda sat on the landing leading to the porch of Bobbie’s house. The sun set low in the sky, filtering through the trees, sending dappled light to dance on the houses.
Tabatha and Derek wandered into the woods to say their goodbyes.
Arms wrapped around each other, Bobbie and Kangee vanished into the old woman’s tree house.
Rhonda longed to have a man who loved her like Derek and Kangee loved Tabatha and Bobbie. But she’d made bad choices when it came to men. Shane’s father had been an excellent magician. He’d heard the word pregnant and vanished. When the men she’d dated lately had discovered there was a child involved, they never called back. She feared it would always be so but, then again, thought it might be better than loving someone only to have him leave her like everyone else had.
She noticed Cuda watching the goings on of the other shifters. He strode a short distance then spun and did an about face and returned to his starting point.
Bobbie had banned him from the village, and Rhonda could understand why. His attitude stunk to high heaven, but deep inside she suspected Cuda wanted to belong as much as she did.
The sun sent fingers of light through the fringe of leaves, giving the setting a near righteous appearance. Specks of dust floated through the light like sparkles of magic. It beckoned to her as if God Himself was telling her to go to Cuda. She recognized the hurt in Cuda’s eyes, having experienced it so many times herself. Loneliness and empathy pushed her to walk across the grounds toward him.
He gazed directly at her and snarled as he stomped into the woods beyond. Working her way under low-hanging limbs and fallen trunks, she didn’t stop until she came upon him in deep shadows and silence.
“Hello.” She held her head high trying to hide the nervousness drying her mouth.
“Did your queen bitch send you here?” He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. “She reckons you can stop me?”
“She didn’t tell me to come here and doesn’t know I’m here. You’ve got the upper hand.” Rhonda decided it wasn’t the smartest thing she could have said.
He paused and cocked his head to the side as if wary. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Her heart raced, her ears roared with the rush of blood. “No.” Voicing what she didn’t feel gave her some courage.
“You should be. I could kill you now and no one would give a shit.” He snorted with laughter. “I can smell fear all over you.”
Spider legs of panic raced up her spine, but she refused to let him push her away. “Please give me the respect of watching your language, and I’ll return that respect by not setting your lips on fire.”
Cuda took a step forward placing himself in shadow, the failing light to his back. “You and whose…”
“Oh, good grief. I feel like I’m talking to my son.” His reaction reminded Rhonda of a lost dog that had been kicked in the teeth too often. “Who abandoned you, Cuda?”
“What? I don’t need nobody and nobody needs me. That’s the way I like it. Coyotes are born loners.”
“That’s why you let that Jebez girl hang around? She’s trouble.” Rhonda had nothing to base that statement on, but she didn’t like that girl hanging on Cuda. It seemed to cheapen his quiet dignity.
He crossed his arms over his chest and gripped his biceps. “What do you know about anything?”
Rhonda didn’t back down under his glare. “I know she makes a point of seeing everything. She’s got her nose into everyone’s business and eyes in every corner. You could be endangering the whole clan.”
His brown eyes grew dark with anger. “You threatening me?”
No. I’m warning you, idiot. “All I’m saying is to be careful of what she appears to be storing away in that pretty but empty head.”
He spoke through clenched teeth. “Why do you care? Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Tabatha and Bobbie took me in when I was less than nobody and had less than nothing. The only person in the whole world who’d care for a second and a half if I died was my son, but then, he has his grandparents. There wasn’t much need for me in this world. But they took me in and loved me. Gave me a family. Me. Rhonda Meads. Firestarter. They didn’t care that I was different. They still wanted to be my friend.”
He snorted and turned away.
She gently touched his back. “What are you trying to hide under all that anger and bravado?” She felt the shiver traverse his spine, and his head rolled forward as if in the throes of ecstasy. “Do what you must, Cuda, but remember, respect is earned not taken. Power is not always what you think it is or what you think you want. When someone loves you, well, that’s real power. And I think riches are counted in the number of true friends you have.”