The Darkest Gateway

by Jeri Westerson

  But before any of the people could get to their cars, the street burst with light. Suddenly the entire area was crawling with strange beasts, dragon-looking creatures like the lindworm, gauze-shrouded phantoms, things that looked like Orcs that carried war hammers and axes, tiny biting black creatures with long tails, monsters that looked like a combination of all the deadly animals fused into one, and even some with two heads.

  “It’s Halloween,” said Jolene. “It’s the book!”

  It looked to Jeff like a Scooby-Doo episode gone crazy. Everywhere he looked, monsters were running after humans. And then some of them turned toward the coven.

  “Get inside!” yelled Doc.

  Jeff and the others ran for the tea shop. Once everyone was inside, Jeff grabbed the coat tree and braced it against the door. “Now what do we do?”

  Seraphina looked wildly around. “Get as many jars as we can find.”

  Nick got the message and began gathering everything they hadn’t already given away.

  “But I think we have to attempt to kill them,” said Ruth, “or they won’t go toward the jars.”

  “And who’s going to be crazy enough to go out there?” said Jolene.

  Ruth laid a hand on the hilt of her sword. “I guess that means I’m up.”

  Doug lifted the nozzle of his flamethrower. “And me.”

  Sheriff Ed stepped forward, slipped off his gun belt, and held it forward. “Is there any way for you to enchant my bullets, my gun, and this magazine? I mean, even if I can’t kill them, I can at least injure them enough to make them get into those jars.”

  Seraphina took the belt but obviously hadn’t anticipated how heavy it was. She nearly dropped it. “Barring that these might be silver bullets…”

  “They’re not exactly standard issue.”

  “Then I think we can come up with a quick enchantment. Help me, Nick.”

  “George, give me yours,” he said. George reluctantly handed over his belt, just as something slammed against the front door.

  Everyone froze, looking to see if the wards held.

  “Hurry up!” said Jeff, his back propped against the door.

  Seraphina and Nick huddled over the guns and started to chant. They tossed salt over them and as they finished, the gun belts each glowed for a moment.

  Seraphina handed Ed back his belt. “It will do some damage now.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a grim expression.

  George didn’t seem happy about the whole exercise. The religious type. But he belted up, and the two of them readied to go out the door, along with Ruth and Doug.

  “Have you got the crossbow?” Jeff said to anyone.

  “Got it right here,” said Doc.

  “Good. Because as soon as I open this door, some of them are gonna want to come in. Aim for them, not for me.”

  “You got it, Jeff.”

  “Okay, on the count of three. One…two…three!” Jeff yanked open the door and the four rushed out. He slammed it shut. Nothing had tried to worm its way in.

  As soon as Jeff looked through the window, he saw the problem. The monsters were scattering, heading toward unprotected dwellings, no doubt. Soon the coven wouldn’t be able to find them before they struck.

  Jeff was getting the feeling he should go out there too, because it had occurred to him that the patrols hadn’t returned to base. “Nick, what are your patrols saying?”

  “They were returning here when the monsters came out. I’ve been getting texts from everyone.” He scanned his phone. “They’re taking shelter wherever they can. But nothing is coming into the jars.”

  “Because they have to be wounded. Maybe we should go out there.”

  “I’m game. Doc?”

  “You boys may have to. I’d hate to think that our patrols are getting into a fix.”

  Jeff was already pulling his shirt up over his head. “Okay. Nick, you take the east forest, I’ll take the west.”

  They each left a pile of clothes as they shifted. Jolene ran to the door to man it. “Okay? Be careful, boys.” She pulled it open and they both leapt out.

  Blond wolf Jeff sprinted around behind Kylie’s shop and dove into the woods. He didn’t have to look to see where Nick went. The only thing he couldn’t do was bring a jar, but if he could save the patrols, that was all that was needed.

  He speared through the trees, keeping his nose up and smelling for any people or beasts. Something weird was ahead. He could definitely smell something dark. He headed in that direction until the sharp scent of people and fear touched his senses. He sped up, leaping over logs and boulders. When he got to a clearing, there were people up in the pine trees, barely holding on.

  The creature was something straight out of Dungeons and Dragons. Stoop-shouldered, it was big, like a goblin, with a heavy spiked club over its shoulder. It was naked from the waist up with gnarled muscles and an animal pelt as a breechclout hanging from a wide, studded belt. Its jaw was heavy and tusked.

  Jeff stood above it on a rock and assessed. If he could get it away from the patrol long enough and maybe wound it in some way, then—if they weren’t too scared out of their minds, that is—they could still trap it in the jar. Here goes.

  He lifted his head and howled. The sound rose above the treetops and rolled along the hillsides.

  The hobgoblin turned and grunted, sniffing the air. Was wolf tastier than human? Nope, didn’t look like it, because he turned back toward the people screaming in the tree.

  The hobgoblin swung back and slammed his club against the pine. It shivered and one of the patrol members slipped off their branch, hanging now by their hands. He wasn’t going to last long.

  Jeff leapt. He landed just short of the hobgoblin’s enormous shoulders, scratching down his back with his claws, and clamping down on the back of his arm.

  The hobgoblin roared, shaking his arm to loosen Jeff, but Jeff bit down hard and wouldn’t let go—even though it tasted awful.

  Jeff tugged back using his strong shoulder muscles, but the hobgoblin was a big fellow. It was getting more annoyed than injured and kicked out at Jeff with his pelt covered foot.

  With a whine, Jeff flew backward. Damn, that hurts! No time to lick wounds now. He shook out his head and drew forward, stalking low. He had to go for the neck. But if he couldn’t do that, he’d have to tear out a hamstring. If he got the neck, he’d have to maneuver around to the front of the beast, but that could prove dangerous, especially with that club he was slamming into the tree again. That guy was hanging pretty precariously from that branch. Another good whack and he would be dinner.

  Hamstring it is, he decided. When the hobgoblin lunged next, Jeff shot forward, opening his jaws on the back of the thigh. Instead of just clamping on, he shook his head, trying to rip as much of it as he could. The hobgoblin started to spin in a circle, swinging his club back, but Jeff ripped with jaw and claws, leaving a black, bloody mess in his blond fur and on his face.

  The hobbled hobgoblin went after him. Jeff growled and sneered, taunting the monster to come on. Grunting with pain and lifting his club, the creature limped toward him. Jeff backed away, growling all the while. He flicked his gaze toward the guy in the tree and he dropped down softly on the pile of pine needles. He motioned to the other one who tossed the ginger jar down to him.

  The man opened the jar and yelled, “Ego te capere!”

  Suddenly, the hobgoblin started to stretch. He glared down at himself in puzzlement but was compelled to slide toward the jar. He spun like a whirlwind, shot forward in a streak of color, and slipped into the jar’s opening. The man slapped the lid on and laughed in relief.

  “Is that…Jeff?” he said uncertainly, looking at the blond werewolf.

  Jeff raised a paw and bounded further into the forest.

  But after a while, he couldn’t seem to smell anything except that hobgoblin muck covering his jaws, and he was damned if he was going to lick it off. He began searching for a stream and trotted down to where the shorte
r birches and cottonwoods grew. He padded over the stony shore of a stream-fed pond, and stepped into the icy water until it was deep enough—up to his chest—to dunk his head. He shoved it into the water, the cold taking his breath away, and was grateful that it seemed to be washing away the smell of the demon blood.

  He pulled his head out and shook it. One more dunk should do it, he decided, and dunked again. Swishing his head in the water, he looked up…into the face of something that looked like a giant potato bug.

  He sputtered and jumped back, fur dripping. Something emerged from the pond, slowly standing up. It had a wide, raw-looking head with no hair but a lot of teeth in its wide mouth. It seemed to have fins on the backs of its arms and legs. So, not from around here. More like from the book. Jeff shook out his fur and backed away, snarling.

  It started to wade through the pond to the shore. There was no one with a jar around, but if he could wound it enough that it couldn’t get away, he could always bring someone back to clap it up.

  He stalked along the edge of the shore, head low between his shoulder blades, eyes glued to the creature. What the hell are you? he wondered. If Jolene were here, she’d know.

  The beast was on the shore, its flipper feet flapping wetly on the stones. It seemed to gather itself for a moment, curling and uncurling its webbed hands, when suddenly it burst forward. Jeff ran to meet it, snarling and growling.

  His jaws closed over something that smelled and tasted like day old fish. Clamping his jaws, he bit down and shook his head. He had managed to grab its neck at the shoulder. Not ideal but it still could be a mortal blow. He did his best to rip the flesh and bite down for more. In the back of his mind, he knew that if he were a werewolf without his wolfsbane, this could have been a person. With a silent shudder, he pulled out more flesh, covering his muzzle again with fishy black blood.

  When it stopped moving, he drew back, sniffing, checking for vitals. It lay groaning, and parts of it were bursting into light, but he knew it would never disappear completely without Kylie writing in her book.

  He left it there, washed off his face again, and trotted onward, lifting his nose to the breeze and hoping to catch the scent of more monsters.

  * * *

  For hours he tracked creatures, brought them down or chased them away from the patrol. When he stopped to catch his breath, he stood on a promontory and looked out over the woods. The trees broke away in the distance, opening to a view of the dark Atlantic.

  He hoped Nick was doing as well as he was. He felt that if the other wolf was in trouble, he’d know it, being connected and all.

  His sharp eyes took in the details of the forest. He spotted the glowing life forces of squirrels, birds, raccoons, and all the forest creatures wherever they were. He also saw the other dimly glowing life forces of the old creatures of the earth. Older than man, who seemed to dwell in the wild places, never letting humans know they were there. He shivered at the thought of them, not liking the look of their auras at all, even though they seemed mostly benign.

  He caught a strange scent on the wind and turned toward it, lifting his head to fill his nostrils with the atoms of odor. Monster. He hurried down from his perch and galloped through the birch stands, over logs, through the rushes of a swampy place, and broke out into a meadow. Something was standing in the distance. No, it was only a tree. He sniffed around and turned toward the tree again.

  And then the tree turned toward him.

  It stood tall and thin, with branches coming out of its head, high like a crown. Its arms were gangly and spindly, longer and more out of proportion than normal human arms and ended in long branch-like fingers. Its mouth and eyes were like knots or gnarled hollows in the bark. That shit is scary, he thought. And then, How am I going to bite a tree? I could pee on it…

  It raised its knee with difficulty as if pulling its leg from the ground. And as it took another step, it did the same thing, like it took root every time it made a step. That gave Jeff an idea.

  He charged forward and landed hard on its trunk/body. It teetered but didn’t quite fall. It frowned its barky face and pulled hard to straighten. Jeff ran back as far as he could and charged again. He landed square on it again, and this time it fell over.

  If a tree monster falls in the woods and only a werewolf is there, does it crap its pants? Jeff chuckled in his head. That seemed to have done the trick. It flailed on the ground like a turtle on its back. It might even have been starting to take root. He was about to approach and make sure it was down until a patrol could take care of it, when it suddenly erupted into a brilliance of light and stars.

  Jeff faltered and flipped his body away, dropping to the ground with a yip. He looked behind him for some wand-wielding Wiccan, but there was no one there. The sparks fizzed and flitted, and the creature suddenly vanished. What? He trotted along the meadow, first one way and then the other. He even ventured to the place it had lain. The grass was bent but it was definitely gone. What could that mean?

  Oh no. Did it mean…was it because…? His heart gave a lurch and he raised his head, ears twitching as they listened, nose sniffing the air. He galloped up the incline and through the woods. He ran harder and faster than he’d ever run before. He couldn’t think, didn’t want to. He burst through the dark woods and hit the highway almost ramming into the Interceptor. It skidded to a stop and spun the wrong way round, but he didn’t wait. He kept going until he made it to Lyndon Road. Her shop was ahead. He pounded along the asphalt until he arrived to the front door, lit by the waning sun. Morphing as he reached for the door handle, he threw it open and stood naked in the doorway.

  “The creatures…”

  Doc looked up mournfully. “I’ve heard reports from all the patrols, from Doug, from Sheriff Ed. All the creatures. They seemed to have… disappeared in a shower of sparks. Every one of them. Even those in the jars. They’ve vanished.”

  “Does that mean…”

  He nodded. “I think it means…the Booke of the Hidden is closed again or…destroyed.”

  “Kylie…” Jeff whispered. He threw back his head and howled.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Move it, Kylie. I just couldn’t run as fast, and Erasmus realized it and scooped me up. I hated feeling like a damsel in distress, but I had to consider that this was the most expedient way. And I’d much rather Erasmus held me than Shabiri, who would probably have thrown me over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  It was the Hound of Hell, Cerberus. He was back, probably egged on by Satan. Maybe these guys could outrun him, maybe they couldn’t. I sure wish I had my crossbow. Wait!

  “Shabiri, do you still have my spear?”

  “Spear? What spear?”

  “The Spear of Mortal Pain. You had it last.”

  “Did I?”

  Erasmus gave her a sharp glance. “Dammit, Shabiri! Do you have it or not?”

  “Everyone is so touchy.” She pulled it out of some miraculous pocket of her tight catsuit and telescoped it out. “And it isn’t your spear. I’m the one who got it for Dougie. So by rights it’s really mine—”

  “Either use it,” I screamed, “or give it to me and I’ll use it!”

  “It was all ‘thank yous’ an hour ago and now it’s all demands and threats.” She flew up in the air, spreading her shoulders like wings. Despite her bitching, she came down over the hound’s back and plunged the spear deep.

  Cerberus’ three heads all howled and stuttered to a stop. The dog whipped its snaky tail around, trying to dislodge the spear, but couldn’t quite reach it. Finally, he rolled over, howling more as the spear dug deeper. But after a lot of rolling the spear fell out. Cerberus shook itself, zeroed in on us, and continued to run after.

  “That was a good idea while it lasted,” I said as Erasmus ran faster. “Where’s the damn border to this place?”

  “It’s not far. Just over that hill.” He gestured with his chin to the distant ash-gray hills.

  But what he didn’t say was that even
though we’d turned on the speed, we weren’t going to outrun the massive three-headed dog behind us.

  “We’re just going to have to take a chance and fly,” I said.

  Erasmus looked at me, then glanced toward Shabiri. She looked back as the dog gained on us. She gave a quick nod, and leapt into the sky, her body widening and flattening into that manta ray shape again. Erasmus did the same. Almost immediately, something large came up over the hills we were heading for, with huge bat wings that reminded me of Baphomet.

  “What is that?”

  “What we were trying to avoid encountering,” he said.

  It had a huge lower jaw like a pelican which hung open, waiting to scoop things out of the air.

  “Sh-shabiri!” I cried. “The spear!”

  “I seem to have left it behind in that infernal dog.”

  “What?”

  “I can blast things, you know. So can your boyfriend if he didn’t have his hands busy.”

  “Then you’d better start blasting that!”

  She wound her arm back, like a pitcher on the mound. A ball of lightning coalesced and shot forward. When it hit the big-jawed creature, the ball exploded. The creature faltered its flapping, even lost a little altitude, but it recovered quickly and headed for us again.

  “Shabiri!” I warned.

  “I see it very clearly, darling,” she said between gritted teeth. She fisted her hands and her whole body began to glow red.

  “What’s she doing?” I asked Erasmus.

  “No idea,” was his casual reply, as if a great mouth monster wasn’t barreling down on us.

  Abruptly, she streaked forward with a huge amount of force and crashed right into the beast vanishing into its bulbous flesh. This time, she managed to knock it out of the sky. They both spiraled downward. I watched in horror and kept looking at Erasmus.

  “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s in danger.”

  “Is she?”

  “Well, I don’t know. She just disappeared into that guy’s body like it was Jell-O.”