by D. D. Miers
Chthel strode toward me, her pendulous breasts swinging, hair pulled back in a dirty braid to showcase her dishonor, the missing chain that proclaimed her the consort of the king. “I’m going to enjoy killing you, Princess.”
I met her near the altar, the eye of the storm, as Gray and the others fought to defend Eloise from the remaining hunters. Portia was hiding, but as I thought of her, a stained-glass window detached from the rest and hurtled down, penetrating the skull of a male hunter and driving him to the floor.
“You boast, but your hunters were felled by an aging grandmother bear, and I already allowed you to have your life once. Do not think I will be so generous again, Chthel, Guardian of the Ufasach Bas. You are no nightmare for me.”
Part of me thought I might be lying…at least the part of me that was sure we were about to all die. But there was no choice other than to defeat her and her soldiers. Almost my entire family was in that atrium with me. I couldn’t let them fall.
Portia, I thought as hard as I could, praying that the old links between us could be reopened now. Prescot is no match for the hunters. Get. Him. Out.
I didn't wait to sense an answer from her, just lashed out at Chthel and pushed her back from the corner where my aunt had taken cover. I missed a step and stumbled but slashed out with Caorach when the Huntress tried to take advantage, as though it was a feint.
Already my magic-boosted strength was fading. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Portia and a lean, rangy young wolf run out. Damnit, they scared him into a change.
But Gray was facing off with a hunter and removing his shirt, as Niall loosened his jeans and kicked off his shoes. There was no time to undress completely, but they tossed aside anything that might constrict, and before I could blink, Gray had gone through his seamless transition to hybrid form, sleek black fur covering his body as his face elongated into a feline muzzle.
Niall was right behind him, his limbs lengthening and claws jutting from his hands as he snarled, his wolfish mouth filled with sharp teeth.
“My people will dismember your hunters, and I will take your head back to Lothar myself,” I whispered. The stone’s glow had weakened as I used it, but as I spoke, it flashed with brilliant red light, painting the room before the glow died. “The Goddess accepts my oath.”
For the first time, I saw uncertainty in the Huntress' twisted, scarred face. As soon as she realized I'd seen her weakness, she lunged at me, screaming in a language too ancient for me to understand, and too terrible to ever want it translated.
Caorach easily met Chthel's first, wild blows. But as she only grew more focused, I was tiring, the magic that had aided me fading by the second. My knees buckled under the weight of the constant, lightning fast hits until Caorach was holding up my arm, instead of the other way around.
All around me were the sounds of battle, gunshots, roars, feline snarls, and cries of anger and agony as Eloise, Gray, and Niall tore through hunters. Amazingly, Penelope was still in human form, shooting at anything that bled green. Julian jerked Chthel off me, his huge golden mane already thick with the foul blood, but she dug her claws into his neck and tore him off her, throwing his giant body to one side without a second glance.
“Maybe I’ll kill your friends first, so you can watch, Princess. You should behold the nightmares of the Unseelie firsthand.”
I forced myself shakily to my feet and raised Caorach, planting my back foot against the fallen altar to brace myself. "My insides are being torn apart, and you can't even beat me. What the hell kind of chance do you have against anyone else? You're a failure, and you can die here, or Lothar will show you your own nightmare when you return."
She grated her teeth and hissed at me, stalking me one step at a time, looking for my weakest point. “I will paint my lord’s bedchamber with your entrails.”
“Well, I mean, I can’t guarantee the sex-appeal of my, uh, entrails, but you do you, Boo Boo.” I parried her first strike, and even without my mental connection to Caorach, she made my sword arm strong enough to hold her off. I couldn’t hear Gray or the others, I didn’t know if Portia and Prescot had made it, or if they were dead out on the neatly manicured front lawn.
Chthel was relentless, inexhaustible and fearsome as her bat-like face snapped in mine. She clipped my shoulder, my stomach, my hip as it got harder and harder to fend her off. Finally, Caorach slipped in my blood, and sweat-drenched grip and another swipe of her claws sent the blade clattering across the floor and pushed me to my knees.
“I will take your heart now, Light Court bitch.”
Julian was lying so still I knew he wasn’t breathing. We were alone in a room full of hunter corpses and a broken altar, and I couldn’t reach my Fae magic to even cover his tawny lion’s body with green things to honor him.
I felt something inside me break open, tearing me apart as it flew to the surface and out of me. Ragged screams clawed their way from my throat in the sounds of eagles screeching, lions roaring, and wild cats snarling.
The room spun as her talons sed toward my face, and the room went dark.
Nineteen
“She’s coming to, move!”
Human arms were wrapped around me and carrying me from the atrium. I heard a cat screech and began to sob with relief. Gray was alive. I glanced up to see Niall’s aristocratic jawline and tried to think of something to say, humorous, glad, anything to let him know I was okay, but I couldn’t think anything but that my love was alive.
“Gray,” I whispered, the word like nails on my ravaged throat. “Gray.”
“Hey there, Good-lookin’. Don’t you worry. Gray’s kicking ass and not bothering with names. We’re going to get you to safety and get Julian and Pen out.”
“Hurt?”
"Looks like Julian's pretty bad, Pen's got herself up in a corner of the attic, but she's cornered and looks to hurt to jump off the roof without a little help. Your aunt's taking care of her, I promise."
“Pres…Presc…”
“How about this. We need you to regroup, so you’ve got to focus. We’ll take care of the rest, Mo, please, help us by trying to heal yourself. We can’t afford to lose you.”
I couldn’t afford to lose any of them, either, and the image of Julian, still in animal form, lying deathly still on the floor amidst the broken glass and rubble was the only thought I could conjure.
“Caorach.”
At that, he managed a wan smile. “That, I can help with.” He set me down against the pretty, white garden fence and laid my blade across my lap. “Will it help you heal?”
I didn’t know if she could or not, but I was going to find our connection either way. If we were still fighting, then Chthel was still alive. Caorach seemed to be the best chance we had against her.
You bet your sweet ass, witch-Fae.
Never would I have guessed that hearing her snark would make me cry, but at the sensation of not being alone anymore and having her back in my mind, a sob wrenched itself from my chest.
Hey there, asshole-blade. Can you help me get standing too? Or do I have to do all the work around here?
I heard her tinkling laughter in my head, like tiny bells, and couldn’t understand how it had taken so long to begin to understand what she was…or rather, who. I only ever heard those bells when dealing with pixies, and my stupid, pain in the ass sword.
“Now’s a good time to get moving, blood-blade.” I forced myself to my feet, leaning my hip against the fence for support. My shoulder brushed the remnants of the magic that had protected and disguised the property and the numbing tingle in my shoulder gave me an idea.
I scanned the postage stamp yard for enemies and friends, finding both. So many body parts were strewn over the lawn, I couldn't figure out how many hunters there had been, to begin with. Eloise had decimated their ranks before they ever got to us.
There were wolves too, but those I did recognize. Two of Niall’s top guards lay torn open, naked and human, which meant they’d died in their animal form.
Julian was still a lion, Caorach reminded me. But he was still inside, and he might have died from his injuries, despite my fear, a thin sliver of hope shot through me.
Gray was outside with Niall and me, but I couldn't see Portia or Prescot among the living or the dead. I inched my way toward a tree in near the house, to better hold myself up as I tried to call all the green things to our aid.
My wounded hip was oozing some kind of infection as my body fought Chthel’s poison, and every step I took was like walking on the tip of a sword. I made it to the slender trunk of the maple tree and slid down it, sitting at the base while I tried to recover my breath.
I sank my fingers into the soft earth at the roots and called my first hand of power, the gift of the Greenman. Around me, the grass began to grow, and leaves fell on my shoulders as the tree sprouted new leaves, pushing those that were already shading the earth off of their branches.
Julian and Penelope were still in the house, Niall was fighting his way in. Already shifted back into a silver-haired wolfman.
"If Pen's in the attic, she needs a way down," I muttered to myself. My throat was still sore, but healing and I pushed myself harder. Under the attic window was a seedling magnolia tree, right by the front porch. I found it with my power and pushed it to grow, thinking of sunshine and cool, misty rain and simply commanded it, "grow."
It stretched to just above the roofline of the porch, and I elongated and thickened one branch to tap on the window. C’mon Penelope, now is not the time to dawdle.
My magic was pushing the tree taller than it would ever grow, and I couldn’t hold it. When I released the spell, the tree would collapse on itself, becoming even less than it had been before I started. My magic had become much more powerful than this childish effort, but I had no strength to perform even a simple alteration without severe consequences.
"Thanks, Mo!" I glanced up at Pen, shimmying down the tree. She favored her left foot but seemed otherwise unharmed. "I just about got my goddamned foot torn off. So, so glad I heal that shit now."
Penelope had been turned by Julian to save her life. The pain I’d felt inside humbled me thinking of how she’d soldiered through it and never complained. “I’ve got to get Julian out. Do you have a phone? Can you call…backup?”
It wasn’t much of a plan but growing one tiny tree had stolen my strength. “Must heal…Julian.” Waves of nausea assailed me, my pain returning in a rush of flame and lightning through my body that forced me into the fetal position.
"Oh, God. Morgan. It's okay. I got you. See? There's Julian, right up there." She turned my head, and I peered through slits in my eyelids to see Julian climbing out the window.
“No. Not permanent. Tree going to fall.”
“Oh, shit. Jules,” she called out, waving to get his attention, which was fixed on something behind him. “Move your ass, husband, she says it’s not going to hold.”
Naked from shifting back to human form, he glanced between the tree and the corpse-littered lawn before jumping past the first branch to the second and swinging himself out and dropping to the ground. His face crumpled in pain and fresh blood flowed from the wounds in his neck and side, but the blood was red and clean and free of poison.
He grinned at me, and I tried to smile back, but a movement caught my eye, and I screamed, instead. Julian jumped to the side as he pivoted to face the house and the wounded huntress who had followed him out the window.
She had no wings but had the face of a bat and the body of a woman, soft and sagging in breasts and stomach and wore her hair back to ensure all who saw her knew what she was. A breeder.
Breeders weren’t usually used in fights like ours, which made the number of bodies on the lawn almost sad. The Ufasach Bas had few females who could bear young. That Chthel had sacrificed so many in her need to destroy me made my heart ache with compassion in a way I didn’t know the Unseelie could engender from me.
As she gripped the first branch, the feeling was subdued by revulsion and fear. Caorach was still too heavy in my hand to lift, Penelope was still nursing her whole-ass foot, and Julian was bleeding and naked, which meant he was too weak to shift again.
She stepped out onto the branch with one foot, then another, then a third, her fourth leg lifting from the shingles to test the strength of the branch.
But the magic had faded, as I knew it would. The tree shivered, then shrank, as though someone was pulling it back into the earth. The huntress scrambled for the roof but fell on her back and the last thing she saw before her head went sailing into the neighbor’s yard, was Gray’s snarling black face and molten gold eyes.
“You okay?” he panted.
I shook my head. "I'm too weak to fight, and something's bubbling up inside me. Before I blacked out before, I heard a hundred different animals inside me. I can't face that again."
"I'm sorry, Honey. I wish I'd known. I would've warned you, given you a chance to prepare for the change. I had no idea she was even capable of changing you or would want to." My vision swam, and he tucked his face close to mine. "It's okay, Love. I've got you."
I shook off the vertigo and pushed him off. Where’s Chthel?”
“Dead inside.”
“Are you sure? Did you take her head?”
Gray shrugged and glanced at the others, but they all shook their heads. “She’s dead, Morgan. They’re all dead.
“No. I’ve got to go back inside. I’ve got to be sure.” I struggled to sit upright, but even that small movement winded me. “Help me.”
“I’m not taking you back in there, Mo.”
"Grayson Xenos, you are my bonded mate, and you will not dismiss me."
He huffed and leaned into me. "I'm trying to keep you safe."
I took his chin in my hands, my fingers trembling "Babe if she's got even a little life left in her, none of us are safe." The shaking in my hands spread to the rest of Gray and me tucked me into his arms and held me. "How do I stop the pain?"
“The pain won’t stop until your first change.”
“Which animal will it be? I felt so many.” I saw Gray and Niall exchange a look of concern. “Tell me what I’m doing wrong, please.”
Niall stroked my hair. "I'll go look for Chthel, you stay here. You're not doing anything wrong, Sweetness. You're not like anyone else who's ever been changed. There's no rule book for this."
I struggled out of Gray’s grasp and clung to his arm, my body shaking like I’d developed a terrible palsy. “Give me my sword.”
Niall picked up Caorach and held her fast. "I'll come with you. You save your strength." He nodded at Gray, who pressed his lips together tightly to stop himself from arguing.
Pen took my other arm and held me upright. “I figured you’d feel better with a dressed person on at least one side.”
I glanced down at Gray’s trousers, almost shredded off his body from fighting and shifting. “At least he’s got fur, Pen. You’re not embarrassed, are you?”
She muttered something about shifters and modesty, which brought a smile to my face despite my pain and weakness. “So many firsts in life, and I never thought one of them would be you turning into a prude.”
“Prude? I’m buying Julian some dang mesh pants that’ll stretch through the change. Mesh is modest but not prudish…right?”
I wanted to laugh, but another wave of nausea nearly forced me to my knees as I tried not to vomit on my best friend or…husband. My husband…. That will never get old. I remembered the stone from our handfasting. I’d never heard of such a thing, but for something so precious to be created by our bonding, our love had to be blessed.
The house was quiet, still, and smelled of foul death. Eloise lay naked, her long gray hair tumbled out of its bun to fall over her torso, body carved by the hunters’ talons. “She must be honored,” I whispered, and Gray gave my arm a little squeeze of agreement.
He picked me up and picked his way through the wood and stone and glass debris from the fight. Chthel was lying motionless on
the floor in a pool of blood, though I couldn’t tell how much of it was hers. Her mouth gaped wide, eyes staring, and my heart began to pound.
“Set me down.”
Gray did as I asked, placing himself between those long, jagged teeth and me. “I sense no life in her. No breathing, no heartbeat. She’s dead.”
“Great. Now give me my sword.” Niall handed me Caorach, and I gripped her tight and took a tottering step toward the creature. “No hunter is truly dead unless you return their head to the king. Otherwise, he can just reanimate their fucking bodies and roll them on out.”
I tried to raise my sword with both hands, but the shaking began anew, and I nearly dropped her again. She trilled, complaining in my head, don’t let me go!
Gray enfolded my hands in his and helped me lift Caorach. With a whoosh, I brought the blade down on her neck, and Caorach sank into her, flooding me with power as she devoured the spark of the huntress that had remained to await reanimation.
Niall carried the head, Penelope carried the all-too-cheerful sword, and Gray carried me out of the house. I sat on the porch while the others beheaded every corpse they could find that still had one.
It was a different kind of quiet out in the still of the evening, the magic dissipated, leaving behind a simple cottage on a simple street. House lights blinked on down the road as someone got themselves a late-night snack or decided to turn on their television.
It was life, as usual, for the people who lived on Sweetwater. A fresh wave of nausea and that awful vertigo slammed into me and forced me to drop my head between my knees. I knew Portia had joined me the moment I felt her cool hand on the back of my neck before she knelt to murmur a spell of comfort in my ear.
She had been terrible to me almost always. But when I was truly ill, she had comforted and nursed me back to health. It was as though, in those moments, she could only see me as a child in distress, and the promises she’d made to my mother came back to her.